We made the annual trip to the wheat harvest and we can report that thanks to such fine advice as from Mones Zach of Percival, we got along just fine.
The 410 MF worked just fine and the weather was more cooperative than last year. A fan belt broke on the air conditioner (oh, we have it rough) the last day in the field so we had to finish the job without the comfort of a cool cab.
The farmer we did the combining for is a friend of the family and he always assures me of lots of good pheasant hunting ground each winter. So, when it's harvest time we look forward to returning the favor by helping him. The wages of friendship have a lot of value.
I keep saying "we" and Mones, you might be interested that this year I took along a helper.
John Hoeinghaus is a California native and an ambitious cuss who likes to do something different. John is a longtime friend of my brother and when he came this way on his motorcycle on a vacation from his tape machine assembly job, we decided that here was a city slicker who needed an education.
So, we cranked up a couple of motorcycles, packed some extra clothes and headed for Jefferson county. John had doubts about learning how to combine wheat in such a short time, but he learned quickly that farmers don't punch a time clock and never complained when the machine was shut off and he sat down for the evening meal at 10 p.m.
Our farmer friend has learned over the years to be patient with weekend farmers, accepts our labor offer and lines up the work each day. Fortunately we don't break too many things (except our backs in the hay fields) and we manage to lift some of the harvest heavy work from his shoulders.
The fun part was teaching the Californian how to run a combine.
"Lower the sickle bar, John," he was told.
"What's that?"
"Now, drop the reel, John."
"What's that?"
"Use your left brake on the turn, John."
"Where's that?"
"Keep an eye on the bin auger, John."
"What?"
"Okay, here's your truck alongside . . . dump it, John."
"Dump what . . . where?"
After riding to town with a load, John reported that was pretty interesting. The elevator operator gave him a demonstration of testing grain.
"How'd it test, John?"
"He said thirteen and a half . . . what's that mean?"
"That's moisture precentage."
"What'd it weigh, John?" I asked.
"Huh?"
"The weight . . . you know . . . pounds?"
"Oh. Oh . . . that must have been what he was talking about when he said 60."
"Hey, John."
"Huh?"
"Guess who gets to grease the combine tonight?"
We joshed our friend several times, but he was a good sport and he told us later he enjoyed the work despite the heat. His favorite was perhaps the trips to the elevator.
"What for, John, tobacco or cold beer?" we asked.
"I don't smoke," John answered.
And we learned from the motorcycle rider. He was on a six-week trip from Santa Ana to Canada. He has never had any trouble other than general maintenance to his Harley Davidson chopper, and he camps out every night. He doesn't camp at rest stops because he says there's always the possibility of vandalism where there is a lot of traffic. Instead, he chooses a site that is out of sight from traffic.
He travels alone and he doesn't ride at night. Too dangerous. His biggest problem is keeping up with the different laws each state has for motorcycles.
Oh, yes . . . he wears a helmet all the time.
From my mother-in-law.
Social Security is an old age insurance system that guarantees you a steak after your teeth are gone.
Bob Taylor, site engineer for the Nebraska City power station for OPPD, told Optimists the other day about the rail business that OPPD will use for the power plant.
Two hundred and twenty cars have been purchased by OPPD to ship coal from mines in Gillette, Wyo. to Nebraska City. Burlington-Northern will start moving coal here in 1978. Coal will be stockpiled for a 60 or 90 day supply.
One hundred-car trains will be operating on the line and will be unloaded at a special dump site for the 1,600-acre project in 45 minutes.
At its construction peak, there will be about 400 people working at the site five miles southeast of Nebraska City. A new concrete access road will be built to the site. Work on that will begin this fall. The plant is scheduled to be put into service in 1979.
Didya hear the one about the pedestrian who was stopped by a policeman after he had run across the street at mid-block?
The officer called the man to him and began writing a ticket.
"What's the ticket for?" the man asked.
"Jaywalking," said the policeman.
"But I wasn't walking . . . I was running," the man said trying to get out of the ticket.
"Yeah," said the officer, "and I'm not writing, I'm printing."
From Lowell Sherwood.
In Africa some of the native tribes have the custom of beating the ground with clubs and uttering spine-chilling cries. Anthropologists call this a form of primitive self-expression. In America we call it golf.
Aloha!
Mr. and Mrs. Carl Peters and daughter, Caryl, are vacationing in the Hawaiian Islands. It was also a special event that attracted the musicians one evening . . . Carl and Nola were recognized on their 37th wedding anniversary and were honored with anniversary songs.
The Nebraska Citians write they have been enjoying the tropical sun, gave the surfing boards the ole' go and touring the islands. It is a third tour for the family.
Caryl writes the temperature has been 80 to 85 and "just lovely."
The vacationers also reported enjoying dinner plates of Mahi Mahi. Oh, yes, folks . . . we remember the Hawaiian Dolphin.
We hooked one on a deep sea fishing excursion off the coast of Diamond Head on the island of Oahu, brought him in with no trouble, smiled like an idiot for the cameraman and later cut the fish up for a fish fry with Navy friends.
Ah, yes . . . those were the days.
Thanks a lot.
A patrolman pulled a driver over and told him he was going to get a ticket for speeding.
The driver argued: "Well, I was only going 40."
The officer answered: "No, you were doing 50 in a 30 mile zone."
The driver got irritated and snorted: "Now, look officer, I was only doing 40!"
The driver's wife helped . . . "Don't argue with my husband, officer, when he's been drinking."