Your story is an example of an inconvenience turning into a life experience. Maybe fate intervened in some way to enrich your life. At the very least it provided you another great story to tell.
Last night I was reluctantly attending an amateur Christmas concert. I was pleasantly surprised to greet a 90 year old, retired farmer who sat down next to me. His grandchildren were performing. Before, during breaks, and after he shared stories about his hobbies, children, grandchildren, and farming. It turned an event I was not particularly enthralled about into a great experience. You just never know. Don
Also, during the concert, a very talented young man was playing guitar and doing a rendition of Elvis' Blue Christmas. He was doing very well, until about 2/3rds through when he suddenly lost his way. He tried muddling on a few times and then stopped and whispered, "I'm sorry", while shaking like a leaf. It was then when I witnessed a truly amazing act of kindness and compassion. The crowd erupted in thunderous applause, and a slight smile appeared on the young mans face. He then started playing and singing again and it was wonderful. Being kind doesn't cost anything.
Glad to hear the brake failure wasn't worse, Brian. Frightening stuff. Happened to me many years go.
Speaking of old-school shops and repairs, I bought some bolts for a 50 year old Fiat tractor the other day. Part of the assembly connecting a front wheel to the axle broke.
Lasted 50 years since my family bought the tractor new so can't complain.
Bolt shop was in one of Melbourne's suburbs that's transforming from light industrial to more and more apartments.
The shop has a lot of bolts. I brought in the old bolt which had a partly stripped thread. The fellow behind the counter pulled out various verniers, measured the bolt and departed into the warehouse making some odd grunting noises.
Came back, sold me two bolts for a few dollars, grunted a bit more and went back to work.
I said I thought it was great shops that like this exist. Bolt guy seemed very uninterested in my opinion. Which was fine. He's there to sell bolts. And I was very grateful for the service.
How long shops like this will exist in a time of rampant managerialism is an interesting question.
Sorry to hear you missed your meeting of Millers, Brian. They sound like a lot of fun.
We used to have a similar place. It was a tractor graveyard. You could show up with a broken alternator mount for an old Ford 800. They would rummage around the acreage for a bit and find something they thought would work. Not much on lively conversation, but useful all the same.
Brian,
Your story is an example of an inconvenience turning into a life experience. Maybe fate intervened in some way to enrich your life. At the very least it provided you another great story to tell.
Last night I was reluctantly attending an amateur Christmas concert. I was pleasantly surprised to greet a 90 year old, retired farmer who sat down next to me. His grandchildren were performing. Before, during breaks, and after he shared stories about his hobbies, children, grandchildren, and farming. It turned an event I was not particularly enthralled about into a great experience. You just never know. Don
Yep, when the brakes went out, and I was still alive, I figured I might as well relax and let the experience happen. Thanks for the story.
Also, during the concert, a very talented young man was playing guitar and doing a rendition of Elvis' Blue Christmas. He was doing very well, until about 2/3rds through when he suddenly lost his way. He tried muddling on a few times and then stopped and whispered, "I'm sorry", while shaking like a leaf. It was then when I witnessed a truly amazing act of kindness and compassion. The crowd erupted in thunderous applause, and a slight smile appeared on the young mans face. He then started playing and singing again and it was wonderful. Being kind doesn't cost anything.
Dang, that is pretty sweet.
A lovely story indeed.
Glad to hear the brake failure wasn't worse, Brian. Frightening stuff. Happened to me many years go.
Speaking of old-school shops and repairs, I bought some bolts for a 50 year old Fiat tractor the other day. Part of the assembly connecting a front wheel to the axle broke.
Lasted 50 years since my family bought the tractor new so can't complain.
Bolt shop was in one of Melbourne's suburbs that's transforming from light industrial to more and more apartments.
The shop has a lot of bolts. I brought in the old bolt which had a partly stripped thread. The fellow behind the counter pulled out various verniers, measured the bolt and departed into the warehouse making some odd grunting noises.
Came back, sold me two bolts for a few dollars, grunted a bit more and went back to work.
I said I thought it was great shops that like this exist. Bolt guy seemed very uninterested in my opinion. Which was fine. He's there to sell bolts. And I was very grateful for the service.
How long shops like this will exist in a time of rampant managerialism is an interesting question.
Sorry to hear you missed your meeting of Millers, Brian. They sound like a lot of fun.
We used to have a similar place. It was a tractor graveyard. You could show up with a broken alternator mount for an old Ford 800. They would rummage around the acreage for a bit and find something they thought would work. Not much on lively conversation, but useful all the same.
One of my favorites. Well done, Mr. Miller.
My favourite detail: rolled his own cigars and made a much-sought-after cider-cured chewing tobacco. Very good sir!