It started with three small fingers, black and white in 1925. A confederate American, drew a mouse, on paper and introduced us to a small critter called Mickey Mouse. Upon that foundation came a theme park in California called Disneyland. The rest of that is cinematic history. In 1948 after My father had his final days in the sky came home to a hospital at the Alameda Navy Hospital in Oakland California. Shortly after, they with urging from Mom’s Sister my Aunt Carmen, moved to Hagerman Idaho. In 1958 I showed up, and myself, my Step Brother Steve, Mom and dad tilled the soil, raised critters and lived what we thought was a good life. Mom and Dad invested wisely, and bought into countless business’s and such. However in 1962 with me being just about 3 years old, money flow was lean, so Dad took his military reputation, got a job at Hill Air Force Base, followed shortly after by my Mom. In 1971 MoM and DaD retired and even though I protested rather loudly, We moved from urban Utah, to very rural and bassackwards Idaho. The building of what is widely known as the Montgomery Foundation aka Montgomery Trust, worth in excess of $250, million, was frozen in 2003 as the foundation, took, both Flying J, Inc. And a annuity company based in Washington State, to court with absconding with millions of money in a class action law suit. My lifestyle went from having at least $10k in pocket change, to barely surviving on $1,000.00 as a base income from my military pension, and Social Security. However I watched a fellow toewer, that went from obscurity, to worth just about what I was right at my funds being frozen in 2003. Uncle Charlie, even though he’s the same age as I am, he is much smarter as to business than I am. As such I study, learn, and apply what I learn from Charlie. Charlie is , where I was right before I went into full duty service in 1979 a full on, always in demand towing and auto shop, that kicked butt on all competitors. The bottom line, is empires don’t just magically happen, they take years to acquire and build assets and gain knowledge. My Mom And Dad’s worked, because they both pulled their monies together, studied things quite long, then executed when times were right to do so. I as well never ever wanted or desired anything that I couldn’t have. I had the finest education, had all the resources to learn, and grow. Even today although limited in scope, still I have a roof over my head, a bed to sleep in, food to eat and a shower to keep clean, and yes even TV and cable so I can watch my beloved Disney Channel. Anything can happen, dreams can be made, lives can be built, if only you desire it enough to get off your butt and on your feet to do so.
Now to that other situation.
When any gal get’s interested in me and/or the Club, I always let them know up front, that I interact with many, many women in the course of my duties with and for the Knytes. Now before I go on here. The MC/AC/TC always is number 2 on my list of priorities. The 1st being LexiBelle. My tow truck> LexiBelle has only left me walking once and that was my fault as I had failed her, in not warming her up, and conditioning her with antifreeze after a very long, very cold winter. But just like LexiBelle, the Knytes don’t let me holding my conoles for long if at all. The Club has been together since the mid 1960’s when Big Jonny, myself and a half dozen kids in our neighborhood, used to collect , customize and show off HotWheels and Matchbox cars. In my world it was more like trucks and Deere toys, but it amounted to the same thing. In 1969 a pal of mine , Kent Jacobson, whose mom was the den mother of our cub scout troupe, (pack 303, Layton Utah) saw something in our fooling around with these tiny cars and trucks. So that year at the scoutorama in Farmington, Utah we did a mini HotWheels show. Later it was mini bikes(yes bikes did come first) and then in 1975 at the then Holiday Inn in Ogden Utah, myself, my Dad, Big Jon, Correy Hansen, and a few others formed a hot rod club, called the Street Commanders Club, that evolved to the TeenAge Truckers Association, that evolved to the Hazzard County Knytes Kustmz Association that evolved in 2017 to the Iron Knytes Association/Knytes-of-Dixie MC. These guys, their families, extended families and all are as close, or even closer than my own blood kin. Okay then understanding the Club being number 2 on the priority, list of me, its then Jesus Christ, then of course, wife or spouse. It will always be that way. I rarely trust humans, only Detroit steel. To earn that trust even and especially women, some form of commitment needs to be made. Relating to a previous post. Want my attention, nylons on legs in person or by snail mail. Is mandatory. There’s a sense of dedication to the woman to extend that type of commitment on a first meet and greet. LoAnn Arbon was the first at age 9 that raised my attention that way, but it wasn’t until the life experience of things Dukes, and Hazzard County, which fair or not was and is; Daisy Duke. the shorts, and yes legs. By requirement of the censors nylons were a needed thing. Who was I to argue? The second year we were running the shop as the only , and original Hazzard County Garage, by the blessings of Skip Ward and a few others of the TV show, we wanted to do TV ads on a local basis. To follow in the steps of the TV show, we did a Daisy Duke, leg, look-a-like search. Ever tried to just do a leg search? It ain’t that easy. People, especially women think your some kind of freak. Especially if your looking at feet and toes. What looks good in say nylons, does not look good without some sort of legging. Things like hammer toes, bunions, out of sync bumps, bruises and formation of both foot and/or toes, just don’t look good without nylons covering them. Then comes the odor thing. In the concept I had for the TV ad, it wrapped with me doing something on the line of a Cinderella smooch reflecting the play on the words toe and tow. This would seam(pun intended) easy. Nope. That half a minute scene of that toe smooch can last in production several hours, I know of one session, that took 9 to 12 hours, if I’m going to smooch some woman’s feet and toes in sweaty nylons, her feet have to be small, toes even smaller, and at least some sort of care as to smell. I am not into long production sessions smelling corn chips. (really stinky toes) . Champions of our talent searches are those applicants that only ask, Pantyhose or stockings, or those who work the trial smooch into the conversation during the interview. Those who don’t are usually sent packing. That Toew Smooch now has became OUR company’s trademark. And it does make us albeit only a tinkle, but still money.
Finally the media thing that I’ll reflect on its history later, which was also introduced on the Dukes-of-Hazzard, when I left Evanston Wyoming two years or so ago, I had only one idea. Come over here, find a suitable place to house the station, hire responsible people that could keep Club secrets, and go on the air and manage the flagship of HazzardAyre Radio aka KTOW-FM. At least that WAS the concept. Should have taken 3 maybe 8 months at best. Nope 2-1/2 years, went through more crap than any man should have went through, lost 4 very close friends, buried two other Club members, while LexiBelle, freezes in Wyoming instead of putting bread on my table, Mini Lexi() still needs attention, and here I sit alone, PoohBear broke up with me at least I think so, some sweet cheeks wants to join me in this race of life, and I sleep in a roach infested motel room which the only good points are semi free Internet, that works sometimes and really free cable. So that Angela and all if she wants to bytch fine, know the story or shut up.
See ya’ll in the morning. right here, for now I’m going to have me a beer.