Just leaving a few words by way of apologize for neglecting both of my websites. It has mostly been out of laziness. I will do better, I promise.
Just leaving a few words by way of apologize for neglecting both of my websites. It has mostly been out of laziness. I will do better, I promise.
Back From The Dead
I planned a labor day party in 2013; Besides the usual grilling foods like homburgs, London broil, steaks, hot dogs and side dishes like potato salad and coleslaw, I had a 5-gallon batch of ground meat pasta sauceinthefreezer. People are wild about my pasta dishes. The party was called off because I got killed!
My buddies Mike Balinas and redneck pipeliner Devin Price tried to reach me, and I didn’t’ answer my phones or return messages for several days. Devin lives closer than Mike, so he came up to check on me. He found the front door to the house was wide open and I was next to my bed covered in blood, and me choking on my own blood. Devin called 911, and s Pennsylvania State Trooper responded to the call and ordered an ambulance. I was attacked in my sleep, so I couldn’t identify my assailant. My heart and breathing stopped as I was loaded into the ambulance. Devin called my nephew, Louis Fromanger rushed down from Toronton, Canada and drove down to Philadelphia 150 miles south of Scranton and back so my brother Jim and brought him to see me for the last time. I really looked like I wasn’t going to make it. I had a stroke from the beating They revived me in the ambulance and put me on a respirator. I was transported to CMC hospital in Scranton. One of my lungs collapsed, so they put in a chest tube I was in a coma for 8 days. I came out of it, and I had tubes coming out of me everywhere. I told the nurse that we could stop the breathing treatment, and she informed me that it was not a breathing treatment, rather a respirator that was breathing for me while I was in a coma. I was in CMC for a while while I recovered. I had a lot of visitors, but didn’t remember any visitors, and when asked the nurse why, she said “Because you were out of it.” Then I realized I didn’t remember anything but my name, social security number, phone numbers and license plate number. The rest of my memory was all blank. I took me a year to fully recover my memory. All of my friends and family didn’t think I was going to make it. All of the nurses were sweet and affectionate to me.
The beating also knocked a blood clot loose, which ended up causing a stroke. I was remanded to 90 days of physical therapy. Thank God it was a minor stroke. When I was well enough, I was moved to Golden Living, a nursing home with a great physical therapy facility. I will write about that experience in my next post.
Wendy and I spent the night yesterday at the Harford Fair in New Milford, PA. We watched the demolition derby. It ran from 7 P.M. to 10:30 P.M. It was pretty cool. I shot a lot of film pictures of it, plus a 13 minute video on a super cheap ($29) video camera. Before the demo derby we walked around the fair and played a few games. Wendy had a cooler in her gigantic GMC Yukon that had my ice packs in it plus a lot of frozen bottled water. A small bottle of water sells for $2 at the fair. The food was expensive too. Wendy had a coupon for buy one get one free salads from Mickey D’s and we ate them for dinner. It was $16 earlier in the week at the fair in the Grange dinner tent for the two of us. I had some funnel cakes, but they were small and crispy instead of large and soft like funnel cakes are supposed to be. After the demo derby I bought Wendy a half pound of fudge for $5.50. I bought her this goofy cat head hat for $10. We tried to get reserved seating tickets for the derby, but they were sold out. There was free seating to the left and right of the reserved seats, and there was absolutely no seats left on one side, and the other side looked completely full, and I wanted to leave, but Wendy Witch did her magic and found us two seats. We didn’t go on any of the rides because they are boring and make you nauseous, not to mention that they are very expensive.
Are you INSANE? I heard some of you ask that question, and my answer is YES, I AM INSANE, but what has that got to do with Monday? Anyho, I love Mondays in Lent because Wendy and I pinch Pierogies at our Roman Catholic church, Nativity BVM. It is a great time had by all. I have not been making the Monday Pierogie deal lately because of stuff going on in my life which is none of your business, but I fully intend to make this Monday Pierogie Pinching work period with my precious young best friend and business partner Wendy Warner, whom you have all seen pictures of. So this is Monday for me. I work at my security job (Which I LOVE) on Saturday and Sunday, but Monday is a day off. When I leave my security site, I will go straight to 7 P.M. Mass. I get there at about 6:21 A.M., but there are already a few people there and we say the rosary and special prayers (It all seems so very TOP SECRET until one gets used to it.) After mass, I go over to the church hall/school and peel the potatoes used in the pierogie making. Wendy shows up around 9 A.M. after having given medicine to her precious cat Sunny whom has Leukemia. Wendy holds Sunny the cat a few steps above God, which I have told her is idolatry, but she doesn’t care.
I like making the Pierogies. The Nativity BVM Pierogies are famous in NEPA (North East Pennsylvania, USA.) I am actually flagged on “pinching,” which is closing the dough around the edges of the items, so I carry trays of all the ingrediments (and, yes I know “ingrediments” is spelled wrong, I just like to spell it that way.) So at about 9 A.M. I always feel a sweet little tap on my butt, and I turn around and Wendy’s foot is coming down because she is always able to sneak up on “Supercop.” All the workers are really cool, and now everybody calls me by name even though I don’t know their names.
When I first met Wendy, she told me, “If you are seen with me a lot, you will no longer be able to do undercover police work because everybody knows me, then everybody will know you. I really did not get what she means until I started spending most of my waking time with her. We would be in places 30 and 40 miles away, and around every corner it was “Hi Wendy” from this one or that one. But I could never give Wendy up, and now, although most of the people don’t know my name, they say “Where is Wendy?” or “What is Wendy doing?” (and I always know,) or “Where is your sidekick?” and my all time favorite “Where is your WIFE?” I WISH! I ask her to marry me every day, and every day she says “You’re psycho.” I tell her that I know that but will she marry me, and she says “No.” I am hoping one day she makes a mistake and says “Yes.” So that is why I love Mondays, because I get to do something with our church, but mostly because I get to be with the gorgeous love of my life. Shabambo.
Night, day, night day, it’s all the same for one who never sleeps. That used to be the motto of a security company: WE NEVER SLEEP. I forget the security company. My first security position was with E.J. Burke, a subsidiary of GLOBE, the big company of the late 1970’s to early 1980’s. I was Operations Supervisor for E.J. Burke. I had 300 armed, K-9 and unarmed guards under my command. I handled all emergencies, and did visitations to all of the sites in the Delaware Valley, mainly the city of PHILADELPHIA, PA. USA. We had all the parking facilities for Temple University. Like, I COLLECTED MONEY IN NORTH PHILLY, MAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! We had a lot of overtime and extra coverage when the Temple University Hospital Union nursing staff went on strike. We had all kinds of guards making sure no tires got slashed from the “Scabs” that were brought in. There is a very long story here about the popular TV show of the time called “The Fugitive” Richard Kimble was a doctor accused of killing his wife, and he claimed it was a one-armed man. My main partner in that guard company was a one armed man with lots of K-9 stuff, and I was a Lieutenant, just so happens Lieutenant Girard was the policeman pursuing the hapless Doctor Richard Kimble. I was about ready to puke on the next person that laughed and said, “Oh, it’s Lieutenant Kimble and the One Armed Man.” BARF. Maybe you are more familiar with the movie, but it was THE TV show of the time.
Back from that little tangent into nowhere, Wendy and I ate at the Pump n Dump as planned, we had a coupon for buy one, get one free sub (hoagie, blimp, submarine sandwich.) The only worker in the store made our sandwiches as people lined up for gas, and this and that. I got a couple of paper’s for Dad, I took Wendy back to Wal-Mart and I did my second volley of shopping there. After all the oil well workers and bar hoppers cleared out of the Pump n Dump and the second newspaper came in, I gave the lady clerk a decent tip for which she was very appreciative. I just went and looked at a house painting job from a woman who pulled one of our business cards out of the Pump n Dump. I always tip well, and as Kristen Darkenwald said, people appreciate when you tip and they give you EXTRA. The extra at the Pump n Dump’s (There are two) is that the clerks prominently and neatly display our business cards on their bulletin boards. Say “Hi” to your silent business partner, Kristen. NOVA.
No, not the song. Just a day in my life. I took Dad to the doctor’s office this morning for his 9:30 A.M. (09:30) appointment. Dad is 89, but I would venture a guess that he could still kick the shit out of a coupla 20 year olds. I’m 63, and I am planning to be a test case for the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania. I am going to apply for a job as a Pennsylvania State Trooper. I am prolly a little over the age limit, but I can drive and shoot rings around the young kids that are doing the job now. You may see me on TV.
So, anyhoo, after the doc, I motored the old guy over to The Hair Zoo in Tunkhannock, PA. USA. Tunkhannock is my home town now for about three years. I came away from the Philadelphia area about three years back when Mom died. Shortly after Mom died, I lost my baby sister, Martha Jane Sears, who was 54. In a period of about 7 years, Dad first lost his brother, then one of his two Wiemeraners, then one of his two sisters, then his wife, then his daughter, then the second Weimeraner, Gus. Gus just went out and laid down on the lawn and died. I swear I put Dad in the grave with Gus last summer. The final blow was when Dad lost HIS baby sister, my aunt Emma Jean. Dad, my brother Jim and lil’ ole me are all that’s left. Thank GOD for the entrance of my friend Wendy Warner into our lives. Wendy is Catwoman. Even the farm cats just jump into her arms. I always hated cats. I drove down to Montrose, PA., USA with Wen a while back to get a dog, and I came home with two black cats. Now that I have them, I realize cats are really cool. Of course, Kimble’s hate cats, so we call them our puppy dogs. Piper the cat and Anton the cat. Piper the cat often jumps up right next to Dad. Piper is a real love bug, where his brother (They were from the same litter) Anton is just kinda there. Dad loves that cat up and laughs, and like I said thank GOD for the entrance of my friend Wendy Warner into my life. She is responsible for the pets we now have that bring a little spark of joy into that precious old man, my Dad. I do know that it is not good English to capitalize Mom and Dad, but I don’t give a shit, all of our parents deserve BIG letters to start their names. So I left the car running and went into The Hair Zoo and made an appointment for my father, and we drove over to Ace Stonier, Inc. in another part of town. There we put an order in for a new over/under washer/dryer to replace the one we have now, which has been dead for a while. We all die, even us old machines. I then took Dad to The Hair Zoo where the cosmetologist did a great job on cutting his hair. We came home and had some of my killer spaghetti for lunch, did a little of this that and the other thing, and it is now 10:42 P.M. (22:42). Dad went to sleep and I started writing this entry. I have kept a journal since 1970. I often thought about putting a journal up on a computer, then blogging came into vogue. Big deal.
I know not that many people are going to read this or like this, because I am not going to make them “RICH ON AUTOPILOT” like some other people are.
I am driving down to Wal-Mart around 1 A.M. (0:100). Wendy Warner works there, and we are going to have lunch at the Pump and Pantry. The Pump and Pantry is a gas station/convenience store with two clean rest rooms and great food and tables to eat. Wendy gets lunch at around a quarter to two. She calls the Pump and Pantry the “Pump and Dump.” She also calls the girl that works in the pharmacy in Wal-Mart “Dopey.” I will have some more stories for you later. I have been keeping a very detailed journal since 1970, and I may just dump years of that onto this platform. Keep your eyes and ears on me. Love y’all.
Hey y’all, whatcha think of “Endless Panthers” as a new name for “Wendy Warner and Edward Kimble Painting?” Do you think that the powerful and dangerous animal might give us a bad connotation? There was a commercial for “Top Brass,” a hair product. It was in the ’60’s and it used another powerful cat, but it killed sales for the product. The ad people couldn’t figure it out. They had a gorgeous purry woman and a huge powerful cat. It scared people, it did not attract them. The reason for the name “Endless” is because we live in the Endless Mountains. Everything is “Endless” here: Endless Smiles Dentist, endless this that and the other things. All you hot shot marketing experts, I would appreciate you input. I would particular like to hear from Miriam Buhr and Kimberly Castleberry. Thanks y’all.
It’s like this. I am at work guarding a bunch of tanker trucks full of sand. For the past month, I have had the place pretty much to myself. A change in fracture drilling wells has brought me a lap full of truckers. These guys are all pretty cool. They give me food and coffee and keep me happy any way they can, because I am guarding their trucks. I generally go to 7:30 A.M. Mass at Nativity BVM Roman Catholic Church with my super moral friend Wendy. This after a 12 hour shift with a bunch of truck drivers that love to use the “F” word between each and every other word they utter. And they ALL smoke cigarettes, which I quit doing over 7 years ago. Let me tell you, those cigarettes smell GOOD. I saw most of them before, but usually just one or two at a time. They are watching a movie with Sly Stallone. I cannot stand Sly Stallone. He is right up there with Jane Fonda as far as Vietnam Vets are concerned. He plays that wildman RAMBO, a Viet Vet gone wild. Correct me if I’m wrong, but that Mother Trucker’s contribution to the Vietnam war effort was to teach GIRLS VOLLEYBALL in Sweden.
Like, listen. Youse aren’t the only friends I have, my dear sweet online friends. I have in the flesh, real people that are friends. Really, I do. I left most of my 3D friends behind when I came up to Tunkhannock to help my Dad, but I made new friends up here. People up here in the country are really cool. They are WAY more “laid back” than city folk. They all write CHECKS at the cash register in the supermarket. When I was in Norristown, if someone pulled out a check book to pay in the grocery line, all the rest of the people in the line would get like super duper pissed off because it was going to take an extra 30 seconds. Here, there is an obligatory 5 minute chat with the checker in the supermarket before you push your basket out the door. I was thinking of doing a sociological treatise on the social etiquette differences between city and rural areas. I had some adjustment problems when I came up here. The women are all very flirty. I started to think I was God’s gift to women. You have all seen pictures of me. NOT. Everybody up here is just happy and friendly. They are all very inefficient at work, and they don’t really care. Nobody likes to make money. The BARS up here close at 11 P.M. Everything else except grocery stores and Wal-Mart close at 4 or 5 P.M. There are florist shops that don’t even have a wire or FTD. I went to pick up a suit at the cleaners one Saturday. Posted closing hour on Saturday is 3 P.M. I arrived at the store at 1 P.M. and there was a sheet of paper ripped from a spiral bound notebook Scotch taped to the glass door flapping in the wind that said: “New Saturday closing hour 12 P.M.” I was pissed, I really needed my suit. But up here it is just the way things are. I am trying to fit in, but I am a super duper ultra efficient type and I can’t stand incompetence or stupidity, but I just have to learn to be more laid back. Why should I be aggravated? Nobody else here is. I still try to excel at everything I do, but I have learned to accept the lay of the land up here. I even find myself in long chats with the checkers at the supermarket. Oi. Besides, did not Joe Schroeder and Diane Hochman (A couple of unknown folks on the Internet) teach me to speak INCREASE into others? In rural areas, everyone does this without being coached. OK, so listen, I gotta run. I have a lot of shit to do before I meet Wendy up in Meshoppen at 2 P.M. We are going to an auction at 3 P.M., then I go to work a 12 hour shift starting at 6 P.M. guarding tanker trucks, and I got a lotta things to do here on the farm before that, plus I like to play Internet too. Maybe I will sleep next Tuesday. Luv youse. Bye. Eddie Kimble.
I have had this blog up for a while now, and I don’t really use it. Now I am thinking of joining a blogging platform centered MLM, and I am thinking to myself “Why?” I have a blog I don’t use. I intend to start posting here if not daily, at least frequently. I used to go on another site a lot, it is called http://www.associateprograms.com and they absolutely ban discussion of MLM’s. I can see why. I really loved The Million Mind March and all the members, and my personal character and effectiveness as a human being was greatly increased due to my association with that group and all the wonderful lunchbucket’s that populated it. They celebrated freaks, like Benjamin Franklin, Madonna and a lot of other genius/whacko types. Being different was celebrated. Right now I see a proliferation of MLM’s where being different is suicide. Don’t you just love when someone is courting you to sign up to their program says to you “This is not for you” if you have even one question or objection to their program?
I am at work right now in my position as a security officer, and I also have my house painting business. I make money correcting house painting articles for doityourself.com, and I am a homemaker and caretaker for my 88 year old father. My mother and baby sister Martha Jane died three years ago, and my Dad, brother and I are all that is left. My father’s nuclear family is all dead, his last sister dying a few months ago, so he is not such a happy camper.
I like to get out a lot. Everyone’s dream in MLM seems to be working from home and traveling and leading the life of luxury. Later on, I am going on to a total ballistic rant about MLM’s. I may even write more tonight. I hope all is well with you as I write this, and as a child of Christ I love you all.