Who's been to prison?

[tps7742]

I think I will just plead the 5th and say I like my rather quiet boring life since I passed 60. A drink or two on the front or back porch with my bride of 40 years is just fine these days. Of course a week or two at the beach each year plus another getaway or two and life’s good.

[Gumbo Man]

I know, and I’m feeling a little outclassed—nay, sheltered even—‘cuz I got nothing. Nothing except a field trip to the county jail through my Government class in high school.

I will say this, though, while I may not have climbed to the top of the Astrodome (and, I’ll admit, I’m a little bit jealous of this one), when I was a Freshman in junior high, we used to sneak out in the middle of the night and meet up at the local bread bakery in town. The bakers often worked late into the night baking bread for the next day’s delivery to all the grocery stores, and they would occasionally park their racks of baked bread (those kind of racks that looked like rolling tower racks and were SO TALL…maybe 5’ or so) outside on the loading dock in anticipation of being loaded onto the trucks in a few hours.

We’d sneak onto the loading dock, grab a few loaves of bread, then shimmy on up a drain pipe (I guess I can only assume it was a drain pipe, we just called it, “The Pipe”) to the roof. From there, we rolled the slices of bread into balls of dough (I removed the crust from mine) and threw them at the passing cars on the street below (a major thoroughfare, as I recall).

As you would imagine, it wouldn’t take long before the police were called. Then here’d come the lights and sirens and we would all scatter. Long story short, I was one of the very few who never got caught. I was small, nimble, and quick and got away fast. I credit years of playing Smear the Qu…, Smear the, hmm, uh, Person Who is Currently Holding the Football, wanting to avoid being tackled by kids twice my size, as the secret of my success. (There’s another story here that I’ll have to share with you another time. It’s hysterical.)

And on that note, I will close with this: I learned a very good lesson during those nights on the roof of that bakery…a lesson in Inventory Management. I learned that if you spend all your time on the front end rolling up balls of dough to stockpile so that you don’t have to stop all the time to “reload,” that, as soon as the police are called, that inventory of un-thrown dough balls is suddenly worth far less than it was when you started. We call this the Theory of Obsolete Inventory, or “dead stock,” to use the vernacular. Either way, it can not only sink your business, it can also rob you of precious moments of fun.

So, there’s that.


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That was you? Y’all drove my uncle Luigi insane !! I’m tellin. Oh wait……he’s dead.

[ThisLadyHunts]

That was you? Y’all drove my uncle Luigi insane !! I’m tellin. Oh wait……he’s dead.

Yep! Well, me and a bunch of other guys, but, yep!

But now I know you’ve been jerking my chain because there is NOBODY in West Texas named Luigi!


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[Gumbo Man]

Yep! Well, me and a bunch of other guys, but, yep!

But now I know you’ve been jerking my chain because there is NOBODY in West Texas named Luigi!


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Well that was his given name. He was a very small man but went by the name TriPod. I never knew why.

[ThisLadyHunts]

Well that was his given name. He was a very small man but went by the name TriPod. I never knew why.

((laughing while rolling my eyes))


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[doghouse]

Thank goodness we had a very nice sheriff while I was in High School. A bunch of us boys could have spent the night in jail many times.

[Huntindad]

very understanding locals as well as DPS in the mid 70's was a Godsend for some of us.

[ThisLadyHunts]

very understanding locals as well as DPS in the mid 70's was a Godsend for some of us.

Truely.


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[ctom87]

I credit years of playing Smear the Qu…, Smear the, hmm, uh, Person Who is Currently Holding the Football, wanting to avoid being tackled by kids twice my size, as the secret of my success.

I think you meant smear the budlight drinker.

[ThisLadyHunts]

I think you meant smear the budlight drinker.

Hah!

I like it, but it might have been a hard sell to a bunch of 10 year olds. ((chuckling))


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[tps7742]

very understanding locals as well as DPS in the mid 70's was a Godsend for some of us.

Yes sir I agree with you 100% on your statement. Kids in todays world probably not so lucky.

[Burnadell]

I know, and I’m feeling a little outclassed—nay, sheltered even—‘cuz I got nothing. Nothing except a field trip to the county jail through my Government class in high school.

I will say this, though, while I may not have climbed to the top of the Astrodome (and, I’ll admit, I’m a little bit jealous of this one), when I was a Freshman in junior high, we used to sneak out in the middle of the night and meet up at the local bread bakery in town. The bakers often worked late into the night baking bread for the next day’s delivery to all the grocery stores, and they would occasionally park their racks of baked bread (those kind of racks that looked like rolling tower racks and were SO TALL…maybe 5’ or so) outside on the loading dock in anticipation of being loaded onto the trucks in a few hours.

We’d sneak onto the loading dock, grab a few loaves of bread, then shimmy on up a drain pipe (I guess I can only assume it was a drain pipe, we just called it, “The Pipe”) to the roof. From there, we rolled the slices of bread into balls of dough (I removed the crust from mine) and threw them at the passing cars on the street below (a major thoroughfare, as I recall).

As you would imagine, it wouldn’t take long before the police were called. Then here’d come the lights and sirens and we would all scatter. Long story short, I was one of the very few who never got caught. I was small, nimble, and quick and got away fast. I credit years of playing Smear the Qu…, Smear the, hmm, uh, Person Who is Currently Holding the Football, wanting to avoid being tackled by kids twice my size, as the secret of my success. (There’s another story here that I’ll have to share with you another time. It’s hysterical.)

And on that note, I will close with this: I learned a very good lesson during those nights on the roof of that bakery…a lesson in Inventory Management. I learned that if you spend all your time on the front end rolling up balls of dough to stockpile so that you don’t have to stop all the time to “reload,” that, as soon as the police are called, that inventory of un-thrown dough balls is suddenly worth far less than it was when you started. We call this the Theory of Obsolete Inventory, or “dead stock,” to use the vernacular. Either way, it can not only sink your business, it can also rob you of precious moments of fun.

So, there’s that.


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This sounds like some of the shenanigans some of my friends and I (or perhaps I should say, "me and some of my friends" ) would do back in my youthful days of no discretion!

We used to play tackle football in a field behind Janie Ritch's house, and she always played ball (football, baseball) with us...pretty good athlete for a girl...as I suspect you were. We didn't call it Smear the Qu..arterback as you did, but it was always fun tackling Janie!!! She is still alive and shy at 76 years old, and she blushes whenever I remind her how much I liked playing tackle football with her! Her husband won't let her play anymore!

[Goldeneagle]

Thank goodness we had a very nice sheriff while I was in High School. A bunch of us boys could have spent the night in jail many times.

My best friend's mother was one of the two dispatcher's for Plano when I was in HS. We knew all the cop's and firefighter's. We got away with a lot of things, except for the BK incident.

[Burntorange Bowhunter]

I must confess, I was "in" those two prisons to visit my uncle when I was a kid. Lol. I've only been to jail once. Never going back.

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[ATI]

I have, lots of times, multiple countries. Not as a Prisoner, but to visit people.