BOOMER by Tim Engel (heaven official's blessing novel english .txt) 📖

of the employee spent working.
The same is true with new technology. The Blackberry, for example, was recently introduced to Boeing Long Beach Senior Managers. We were excited to get this new tool. And to be sure, our efficiency and productivity went up immediately. However, the downside is you are never off line; never truly unplugged. In the middle of the night when you wake up and see the red light blinking, consider what is that? Is it an emergency? Is it the boss asking me for something? Is it a family member needing help? Blackberrys are a win-win. The Company gets more hours, more efficiency, more productivity; the employee gets the power of a terrific tool which can provide all kinds of benefits like real time email, internet access to name a couple.
I dove off the top of the jungle gym, I won a 1st prize ribbon for my bear cave, I wore my suit and hat to school; and this was just in Kindergarten. Auspicious beginnings?! Besides the sand around the jungle gym and monkey bars, there wasn’t a stitch of grass on the grounds of James Whitcomb Riley Elementary School. Asphalt jungle. Asphalt everywhere. The 1950 movie is described as “A major heist that goes bad once double cross and bad luck cause everything to unravel”. The unraveling at Riley was only when you fell. That’s when things were bound to go wrong. Because playing on asphalt had some general risk issues. Let’s just say the original designers did not have kid’s safety in mind. Perhaps more in mind was low maintenance. There was so much asphalt that it was truly beautiful. As long as it wasn’t raining, it was a dream come true for traction . Your
Chuck Taylor’s would grip like sandpaper on that nice black top. You could really generate some G’s when you rounded the corner playing kickball or hide and go seek or whatever game you happened to be playing that day. But on those occasions when you lost some grip, when it might be damp or raining, when you said oops, and started to take a tumble. That’s when the black top could take its vengeance. When the asphalt could bite. Ouch. It was hard and there were times where we had to go see Nurse Sally. Nurse Sally was very nice. She had a giant bottle of hydrogen peroxide in her office. When we came in with a bloody/raspberry knee, shin, elbow, palm, you name it; she had the remedy! Nurse Sally was sweet and would ask what happened to which we would always say “I fell down.” To which she would say “well, I have just the thing.” This might sting a little bit. Aiiiii!!! Yep, it usually did sting a little bit.

Jack Purcells were very popular too. You could see legit Jack Purcells when you checked the tell tale shape on the bottom of the shoe. Speaking of shoes and getting new ones…there was a way to get new shoes. Earlier than you might think. I remember one kid would drag his shoes as he rode his bicycle accelerating the wear on the sole of his shoe so that he could ask Mom and Dad for new shoes. I was taken off guard by this. I was a bit shocked to see the level of ‘cheating’. I thought that was dipping right into Mom and Dad’s pockets in a very selfish way. To tear up your shoes prematurely just to get a new pair of kicks seemed downright rotten. I never tried it but it stuck with me.
JWR is also chained off from the public. That helped contain the kick balls and other playground equipment from careening off into the public byways. One of my very favorite recess past times was the tether ball. Tether ball. Seemed like a strange game. Perhaps it started out as an Indian game of some sort? Don’t know – but it was a lot of fun and I seemed to excel at this sport. Maybe it’s because I was taller than the average bear. Or average kid. You got on your side and ‘served’ to the other player. If you got ‘lucky’ you could play your way around them and ace the whole game without them even touching the ball.
On one rainy day I had a raincoat on and with the rain falling off the roof I saw people bending over and catching water in the ‘pocket’ that was part of the raincoat. I thought this was a fun idea and joined in. Oops. We were caught and had to go see the Vice Principal. I remember the teacher telling the VP that he had had trouble with me before. For the life of me, I can’t recall what trouble that was. Stranger is that I’ve never forgotten that. Maybe he had mistaken me for another fellow. A ruffian. A brigand. A ner do well. A miscreant. Was I one? I wonder now. No matter. I am free from his tentacles. After all, we were just playing in the water, not tearing up the asphalt.
One of the regular occurrences there in Lakewood were the sonic booms. As the jet fighters broke the sound barrier in the local airspace, the buildings would shake with relish at the shock waves. I loved them. Some people hated them. It reminded me of what Dad did for a living. Building airplanes. Dad had a buddy named Don Phillippi. Don had airplanes and Dad said he got to fly with him in a P-51 Mustang. This was a WWII fighter aircraft built by North American. The plane in later modifications was capable of 487 mph. Dad said that when they were flying and the pilot pulled back on the stick that the G force caused him to ‘grey out’ or lose most of his vision. He said that the force on his body was like a strong man pushing down very hard on your leg. I was impressed and never forgot the story. The P-51 was designed and built in an amazing 117 days! I t started out as a reconnaissance aircraft, but then later became a fighter/bomber/escort aircraft eventually leading to total air superiority for the allies.
The P-51 was economical to produce and was also fast, durable, and well made. A testament to its value and resourcefulness is the fact that it remained in service in the US military into the 80s. After being superseded by jet aircraft, it still found value in Korea, and Vietnam. In the 60s Ford Motor Company would name a sports car after this legendary fighter. The initial order for Mustangs was from Britain. They wanted them for reconnaissance and ground attack duties. This due to the fact that its high altitude performance was somewhat limited. The sound of a Mustang zooming past is something that rings a chord in the hearts of gear heads everywhere. Airplanes, cars, motorcycles; you name it. Guys in general love the sound of a cool exhaust. Flowmaster? Glass Packs? Oh, by the way – glass packs were special exhausts that people put on their cars to make them sound cool. Dad educated us about this after market bolt on which made a normal V8 sound like a real hot rod! Cheap mod – but effective! We had glass packs on the 59 Chevy. The Impala was a piece of art. At the time we didn’t really understand that. But we did greatly appreciate the beauty of the car. Fins!
TOM
My brother, Tom. Handsome, dark hair, dark skin, dark eyes. I was jealous! Especially after hearing that song “Beautiful brown eyes”. I guess that meant that green eyes were inferior. Red hair was inferior. Fair skin and freckles were inferior. Not really. I knew better. Looking back now I can see I was a minority of sorts (red hair) but diversity is really cool. But Tom was my older brother and I really looked up to him. Even though we fought like the dickens; we really loved each other. He was Niner and I was kitten. Don’t ask.
Tom was my protector. At times when my youthful energy would get the better of me and I wrote checks I could not cash. Tom was there to rescue me. To pull me back from the precipice. Erik (my buddy with the violin) had a brother the same age as Tom. One day we were sort of hanging out together and I said some smart alecky thing to him which was basically a challenge. Now, I had no chance against this guy. He outmatched me in every way (except mouth). He turned to Tom and asked ”can I smash him?” To which Tom replied “no way”. Whew. Snatched from the jaws of ‘death’ again. I remember it vividly. And I remember at age 9 that I was getting big enough to know better. Tom saved me this time. I needed to make sure this didn’t happen again.
Tom would mostly play with a few key buddies in the neighborhood. Gerry Gregory, Mack Atlas, and Kevin Olsenz. They were all in the same grade. I spent as much time with them as possible. Mostly because I wanted to hang out with my big brother. But I also liked and admired Gerry, Kevin, and Mack. From the get go I was at a disadvantage because I tended to hold the big boys back. Just by the fact that I was three years younger, meant I would be slower, less powerful, not as keen, and just a hindrance in their eyes. But there were times where I got to hang out with them and had fun doing that. We would play army, tag, war, ride bikes, ride ‘skobies or skate boards; the list was endless. We could be creative. We could think up something new every day. Every hour
Tom and I didn’t play much organized sports. At least, not until High School where Tom excelled. Tom went out for Football and our lives were changed forever! Tom was like me – perhaps a bit heavy and out of shape. After one year of football, he was a lean, mean, fighting machine. I remember him showing me the veins in his arm after he had leaned out and been lifting weights for months. I was very impressed. But I think my reaction to him was more like “so?” I didn’t want to give away how much I admired his new strength. And speaking of strength, he was named to the elite group of Football players known as the Golden Knights. Lean and muscular. He could benchpress over 300 lbs. He was truly in great shape. I remember walking with him at the beach and people would stare at him. I felt again in the presence of greatness. Like