Showing posts with label Mark Topping. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mark Topping. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

I Don't Want a Pickle

"Hey...what would happen if someone rode through the halls?” Never being one to pass a challenge, Mark fired up his Triumph Cub and, with friends holding the door at either end of the building, he popped a wheelie and headed into the school corridor on one wheel. Heads popped out of classroom doors to see who had the nerve. When he got to the end, the door was held open. Unfortunately, the hand that held it belonged to the Dean. DANGIT! He was this close. “Mr. Topping, park that thing. My office. Now!” His reputation established, he headed to the Dean's office.

Mark is a journeyman mechanic….a professional …a skilled artisan. He’s one of the last of a dying breed of guys that can fix anything. Mark was an auto shop kid in high school. In fact, it’s safe to say it kept him in school. The punishment for the wheelie that is still legend at Soquel High? He fixed the dean’s car. This would not have worked with a slacker kid. I swear, he can fix anything and any part of anything and the dean knew it.

Mechanics are going the way of the loggers that Ernie and Eko speak of in reverent tones. Mark has been to school to fix everything from Buicks to Mercedes to Yamahas. He can fix Monica's Vespa and my garden shredder. When you truly understand how things work, you can diagnose. He fixes the stuff other people can’t. He fixes the things other people have taken apart. The Nuevo mechanics are “technicians” and they’re specialists -- they do alignments or transmissions or services….but not all of it. Mark can do on-board computers as well as carburetors. Remember jetting carbs? How many girls out there ever sat in the passenger seat of the boyfriend’s hot rod with your foot over the hump (wait, I’m not done with the story….) on the accelerator, goosing the throttle to keep it running while boy fiddled with the carb? And you probably did it every few blocks because many boys THOUGHT they knew what they were doing but seldom quite got it right.

My old man has switched from cars and dealerships to motorcycles and self-employment. Smaller engines. Smaller tools. No one telling him to keep doing things that hurt because “you’re faster than the other guys and we need it done.” Self-employment allows him to switch to another project if his arms start hurting. Damage done with many years spent working a trade that many with fewer skills also claim. Many wear the hat but few can truly walk the walk.

When we were new to the area, reading the want-ads, there were ads searching for “cat skinners” and something about mules. We had NO idea what those jobs were but figured we would know if we could do it and we didn't. It strikes me regularly that, before long, people won’t know what a carburetor is or the difference between a transmission and a transaxle any more than they'll know what it means to pull green chain.

Saturday, November 10, 2007

AVOIDING HOMEWORK

I should be working on a quiz for my Intro to Evidence class. I decided to get it done FIRST thereby earning any more entertaining activities over the weekend. Thus far, I’ve perused everyone’s blogs and found a few new ones. I’m so fascinated with people. Stories. Activities. I find that other people inspire me so I guess it’s not a bad thing to be a bit of a voyeur even if I am doing what I scold my kids for doing.
The weekend is off to a busy start. Yesterday was Mark’s birthday. Being a Friday, we did our regular dinner out, just Mark, Glo and I. His choice was Chapala, one of our favorites, with a promise not to have the Tumbleweeds sing Happy Birthday. He knew he could trust me because I hate being serenaded in public places. Glo, however, was not such a sure thing. SOMEone ratted her out last year and she got the Tumbleweed Happy Birthday. She knew it wasn’t me (for the aforementioned reason) but she suspected Dad….and his turn was up. But, we toasted him in appropriately reverent tones with plans for a family steak dinner on Sunday, complete with the presents and chocolate chip cheesecake.
Then, about 11:30 last night, we heard sirens. Not unusual since we’re just a block off J Street and Eureka Fire often heads up this way to 14th. There seemed to be a lot of sirens so Mark got up to look out the window. “Holy Shit….something’s fully involved!” Spoken like a former volunteer firefighter. It looked to be just down the street so we woke the kids and started to head down there THEN we realized the puppy was freaking out. Vince WOOFS when he’s unsure of anyone or anything and he was woofing so….I stayed home with him and let Mark, Hope and Glo head up to the corner. Apparently the fire was contained in a carport in the alley behind the apartments on K and 14th. Easily accessed by the firefighters. No obvious cause. Mark and the girls left once the fire was knocked down and the building’s attic was being checked for fire damage. Damn, I missed it.
I used to love to go to the fires in Nevada when Mark was on the volunteer fire department, camera in hand. Mostly neighborhood fires but I did hitch a ride in to a brush fire once in shorts and Birks, got scolded and rewarded by the District Chief with a set of brush turnouts that I carried in the car with boots, just in case.
So, back to work on my 1500 words for Professor Sokolow. I’m partially there and once I get my mind and heart into it, the words will flow. Hopefully this blog will help with the brain circulation. LISTENING TO: Brudda Iz (Israel Kamakawiwo'ole)