I haven't felt super inspired to write something in the past few days so here is a little vintage blog from my myspace posted on August 4, 2008 just after working in Wisconsin for Ford.
The best thing to happen at AirVenture in Wisconsin happened yesterday in the last hour and a half of work. The show was pretty dead because everyone had started flying home. We were just hanging out, sitting on bales of hay (of course, all in a days work) when an old man in a jumpsuit (which is typical at an airshow) came up. The back of his jumpsuit said, "Wanted: Rich Widow. Send pictures of plane."
I guess he was asking my friend Dahlia questions about the F-150 and I was chatting with Steve, one of the guys who keeps up the track/obsticale course. Dahlia brought the man over to us and he started discussing how his wife bought him a brand new truck. Steve said, "That's a good wife! You must be a good husband. What's the secret?" He said, "An apple a day. You gotta give your woman an apple a day."
He starts explaining what I thought, at the beginning, was about fruit but "apples" were just a euphemism for sex. "You see, there are several days of the month that you can't give her an apple because she is on her menstruation, so you have to give her an apple 2 or 3 times some days. As long as you are averaging 365 apples a year, you are being a good husband."
But, oh no, it didn't stop there, "And I'm gonna let you in on something else, don't waste your money on that K-Y crap. Shit's too expensive! Get some mineral oil. It does the job just fine. You can also use it to style your hair. Add some iodine to it and you can use it as tanning oil, too. It's got a lot of uses and it's cheap!" In the middle of this, may I mention, the daily parachuting man with the American Flag falls from the sky and the National Anthem plays. The old man stops his rant, puts his hand over his heart and sings the National Anthem. " . . . And the hoooooome of theeeeeee Braaaaave!" Then he immediately continues, "And don't worry, I checked with the gynecologist and it's perfectly safe." (I would love to meet this gyno.)
The old man continues to explain how his first wife tried to kill him several times. She had a blood transfusion after an accident and contracted Hepatitus C and had to take medication. The medication made her crazy so she tried to stab him with a meat cleaver, hit him over the back of the head with a shovel while he was gardening, and slowly poison him every day by putting rat poison in his food until his intestines were bleeding.
Then he explains, "I just bought a new 2-seater airplane that I am naming 'Little Orphan Annie' and I need a redheaded woman to ride around the world with me. Are you over 18?" I told the man I was and he said, "Good. I don't want to be brought up on no statutory rape charges." At which point I excused myself from the conversation.
Oh, Wisconsin. You amaze me every year.