Nearer at hand but longer ago, in a circumstance not quite as generally recognized as "paradise," we had a similar situation.
We lived in a "company community," houses owned by the employer, an outfit that dug rocks out of the ground, cooked them and ground them up into lime. Along with regular dynamite blasts, backbreaking labor, substandard housing and the other blessings of poverty, the whole place was covered in dust.
But, what the hell, we were kids and didn't know we were supposed to be downtrodden, so we weren't. Lots of adventure to be had around quarry holes, railroad trestles and heavy equipment, but that is beside the point.
The clockhouse, where workers punched in, had a milk machine. The top opened just like a freezer chest, and the milk cartons were arranged in rows between metal dividers. The process was to select what you wanted, then slide it along between the dividers to the drop-off point. Insert a coin, pull a handle and the half pint of milk would fall into a place were it was accessible.
Unfortunately for bookkeeping, those cartons were already accessible to boys with pocket knives and straws. We'd punch a quick hole, insert a straw, slop it down and then make an escape.
Oh, now this reminds me of another bit of thievery and deception from my youth. My mom would buy 6 packs of Diet Pepsi (which wasn’t nearly as bad as TAB) and keep them in the fridge.
We weren’t allowed to have soda. But that didn’t stop us.
We figured out that if we took a pin and poked a small (nearly invisible) hole up near the pull tab, we could shake the can up and drink most of the soda before replacing it in the fridge, with nobody the wiser.
I’m pretty sure at one point my mom returned at least one of those 6 packs to the store because they were defective … some of the cans only came half full. 😎
The difference between the young and old being that the young will admit it. … and take some pride in good results.
As Mark Twain said, "I know the taste of the watermelon which has been honestly come by, and I know the taste of the watermelon which has been acquired by art. Both taste good, but the experienced know which tastes best."
ahhhhh … I’m sure you got something better than TAB. 14 year olds would be smart enough not to go back and subject themselves to that over and over.
By the time I was 14 we were living in California and I was spending 12-14 hours summer days on the golf course … and my mom knew where I was because she worked there.
I'm sorry I didn't see and respond to this comment sooner.
Lol, the funniest thing about your story is if you had been less than truthful about where you found it, your dad likely would have enjoyed the entire bottle ... and been none-the-worse for it. I'm pretty sure grapefruit juice is one of those things you would be immediately aware of it had gone bad.
Add about the same age, my cousin and I discovered a gumball machine that would give us as many gumballs as we wanted if we jerked the handle back-and-forth. We held out our T-shirts into bowls and filled them up!
One night after a Lakers game at the Forum, when my son was nine, we were coming back home, there was a woman on the street. I asked my son if he knew what she was.
He said "Yeah, she's a prostitute."
I have no idea how he knew. He did spend summers with his dad up in the Reno/Tahoe area. Pretty sure there's hookers there.
Sounds like you had some fun times with a group of like-minded boys.
lol, to be fair, at time my story takes place I’m pretty sure we had no more than a superficial (at best) understanding of what made someone either a prostitute or a bum.
lol, You are absolutely a much more accomplished thief than I was. For the most part, I stayed out of trouble, and this may be one of the very few examples in my life of stealing stuff.
Although actually I did almost get in trouble when I was a teenager in England. I sold my pool cue to a guy a couple weeks before we were supposed to leave. Then one day he left it just sitting on the table for like 30 minutes, so I couldn't resist and took him back. LOL, he called my parents and gave them a chance to talk me down before calling the cops. My dad was not pleased.
I also had a snooker cue in England. Pretty sure I gave that away when I left.
And yes, a pool cue was a way to make money. We played a lot of nine ball, and it was even enough ago that we also played straight pool (14-1 continuous, NOT 8 ball).
We had a set of rules for gambling about the suspected strength of our opponent:
If you were definitely better than them, you wanted to play straight pool.
If you were about equal, 9-ball.
And if they were likely better than you, 8-ball gave you the best shot at getting lucky, even in a three or five game race.
Nearer at hand but longer ago, in a circumstance not quite as generally recognized as "paradise," we had a similar situation.
We lived in a "company community," houses owned by the employer, an outfit that dug rocks out of the ground, cooked them and ground them up into lime. Along with regular dynamite blasts, backbreaking labor, substandard housing and the other blessings of poverty, the whole place was covered in dust.
But, what the hell, we were kids and didn't know we were supposed to be downtrodden, so we weren't. Lots of adventure to be had around quarry holes, railroad trestles and heavy equipment, but that is beside the point.
The clockhouse, where workers punched in, had a milk machine. The top opened just like a freezer chest, and the milk cartons were arranged in rows between metal dividers. The process was to select what you wanted, then slide it along between the dividers to the drop-off point. Insert a coin, pull a handle and the half pint of milk would fall into a place were it was accessible.
Unfortunately for bookkeeping, those cartons were already accessible to boys with pocket knives and straws. We'd punch a quick hole, insert a straw, slop it down and then make an escape.
And here is the thing: WE DIDN'T EVEN WANT IT!
Hell, it was milk -- organic TAB.
We only took it because we could!
LOL, yep “we didn’t even want it”. 😁
Oh, now this reminds me of another bit of thievery and deception from my youth. My mom would buy 6 packs of Diet Pepsi (which wasn’t nearly as bad as TAB) and keep them in the fridge.
We weren’t allowed to have soda. But that didn’t stop us.
We figured out that if we took a pin and poked a small (nearly invisible) hole up near the pull tab, we could shake the can up and drink most of the soda before replacing it in the fridge, with nobody the wiser.
I’m pretty sure at one point my mom returned at least one of those 6 packs to the store because they were defective … some of the cans only came half full. 😎
Larceny is a natural tendency among the young.
The difference between the young and old being that the young will admit it. … and take some pride in good results.
As Mark Twain said, "I know the taste of the watermelon which has been honestly come by, and I know the taste of the watermelon which has been acquired by art. Both taste good, but the experienced know which tastes best."
You were too young to try it but those particular machines could be gently tipped and then given a jolt to toss out one or two.
I must’ve read that in a book and certainly didn’t experience that personally (many, many times).
This was more of a 14 year-old technique
ahhhhh … I’m sure you got something better than TAB. 14 year olds would be smart enough not to go back and subject themselves to that over and over.
By the time I was 14 we were living in California and I was spending 12-14 hours summer days on the golf course … and my mom knew where I was because she worked there.
You had some great playgrounds in your day!
Yes, the Air Force has been pretty good to me my entire life.
Wonderful memory. Yep, TAB was terrible. My mother used to drink it.
Thanks Jim. It's funny the things we remember all these years later.
When I was around the same age, some local kids I met shared with me there was business center that would throw snacks in their dumpster.
The only other things that were in there were papers and cardboard, so it wasn't filthy.
One time there was an unopened can of grapefruit juice that no one wanted so I took it home to my dad, because he liked grapefruit juice.
I can still picture him standing in the kitchen, taking a drink and asking where i got it.
When I told him, he immediately spit it out into the sink and poured it down the drain, asking me what the hell I was thinking.
In hindsight he wasn't wrong, but when you're ten and you find snacks in a clean dumpster, you think you hit the jackpot.
Dave,
I'm sorry I didn't see and respond to this comment sooner.
Lol, the funniest thing about your story is if you had been less than truthful about where you found it, your dad likely would have enjoyed the entire bottle ... and been none-the-worse for it. I'm pretty sure grapefruit juice is one of those things you would be immediately aware of it had gone bad.
TAB, yuck. Worse soda every made in my opinion. Oh, to be 10 years old and able to ride your bike around Hawaii without a care or worry. Great story.
Thanks!
lol, and yes, I can still remember that aftertaste.
Terrific trip down memory lane!
Thanks … glad you enjoyed it.
Enjoyed that Todd! Talk about good news, bad news. I can't imagine anything more revolting to a 10 year old than a can of TAB.
Thanks Greg … and it’s funny, nearly 50 years later I can still almost “taste” that memory.
I can too... unfortunately :(
Sorry :-)
Great story, Todd!
Add about the same age, my cousin and I discovered a gumball machine that would give us as many gumballs as we wanted if we jerked the handle back-and-forth. We held out our T-shirts into bowls and filled them up!
Now that sounds like it would have been a much harder “technically illegal” habit to break. 😁
Yes, very tempting! 😋
Too funny.
One night after a Lakers game at the Forum, when my son was nine, we were coming back home, there was a woman on the street. I asked my son if he knew what she was.
He said "Yeah, she's a prostitute."
I have no idea how he knew. He did spend summers with his dad up in the Reno/Tahoe area. Pretty sure there's hookers there.
Sounds like you had some fun times with a group of like-minded boys.
lol, to be fair, at time my story takes place I’m pretty sure we had no more than a superficial (at best) understanding of what made someone either a prostitute or a bum.
I suspect it was probably the same for your son.
I'm not sure because his dad was a dealer at a casino in Tahoe and may have let something slip.
lol, You are absolutely a much more accomplished thief than I was. For the most part, I stayed out of trouble, and this may be one of the very few examples in my life of stealing stuff.
Although actually I did almost get in trouble when I was a teenager in England. I sold my pool cue to a guy a couple weeks before we were supposed to leave. Then one day he left it just sitting on the table for like 30 minutes, so I couldn't resist and took him back. LOL, he called my parents and gave them a chance to talk me down before calling the cops. My dad was not pleased.
I also had a snooker cue in England. Pretty sure I gave that away when I left.
And yes, a pool cue was a way to make money. We played a lot of nine ball, and it was even enough ago that we also played straight pool (14-1 continuous, NOT 8 ball).
We had a set of rules for gambling about the suspected strength of our opponent:
If you were definitely better than them, you wanted to play straight pool.
If you were about equal, 9-ball.
And if they were likely better than you, 8-ball gave you the best shot at getting lucky, even in a three or five game race.