 |
 |
| Loaded down. Notice the "thing-a-ma-jigs" on top. Wonder why the truck
is leaning to the right? |
Convoying to Dayton.
|
 |
 |
|
Bob sleeping at the wheel
|
Thursday. Storm brewing while we were getting sand to hold down
our tent. |
 |
 |
| Got to have a little rain or it would not be the hamvention. |
Friday. It was only ankle deep in some places
|
 |
 |
| Ed trying to get a little water out of our flooring. |
Here is the gang. Almost set up and completely waterproof. |
 |
 |
| Ed using high pressure tactic to sell a "thing-a-ma-jig" |
Open for business.
|
 |
 |
| Chris in the kitchen making a peanut butter sandwich. |
Two men from the FBI looking over Ed's merchandise. Who said they were
Potato Cannons? They are antenna launchers. |
 |
 |
|
Mr Spitwad.
|
Spitwad targets
|
| Something new and funny always happens on our trips. This year, we
went into a restaurant to eat but there was a long waiting time.
We decided to eat at the bar so we could get seated faster. We were
lucky to get a table about 4 feet from the bar stools. Things were
going pretty good until Raymond told us to look over to the right. There
on the stool was a minimum of 6" of butt crack showing. I told Raymond
that ruined my steak. Raymond said you should have seen it 30 seconds earlier.
He said there was at least 12" of crack |
showing but the guy covered all but 6 inches up. Well Ed (from
now on know as "spitwad") said "I'll take care of this." He
then took his straw and made a spit wad and bet us that he could hit the
crack dead center. We begged him not to do it and turned our heads and
pretended we did not know him. We could not keep a straight face and were
laughing so hard that I had tears rolling down my face. Well Ed went for
it anyway. He has guts but is a bad shot as he hit the guys right cheek.
The guy just fanned it as if nothing happened. I was rolling in tears
and had to head to the bathroom to get my composure. This could have been
Ed's last trip. |