Category: MyHistory

Grandpa Riga was known for being frugal. My grandma always complained that just once she wanted to go on a vacation. To which grandpa replied that it was his job to provide her with food, clothing, and a roof over her head. Entertainment was not on the list.

Many times, I saw first hand how cleaver grandpa actually was. Here a a few good memories:

• We would be out walking and he would reach down and pick up a penny. When I questioned him, he just said that’s one penny I didn’t have to work for. (I still do this too!)
• Grandpa placed all the lights in the basement on timers (because grandma could never remember to turn them off?) and she would be down there doing laundry and the lights would suddenly turn off. LOL.
• One day I came over and saw him eat another can of Campbell’s tomato soup. When I asked him about it, he said … just poke a hole in the lid in the morning and place the can over the pilot light. Your burning that gas anyway, might as well use it [to cook the soup]. At the end of the day the soup is fully cooked, just pour and eat.
• When he was in assisted care, he would steal packages of ketchup. Then later, microwave bowls of water and add the ketchup to make tomato soup. (that way he only had to pay for 1 meal a day at the retirement home).
• He would place an empty 2 liter in the back of his toilet tank to use less water when flushing.(He was green before it was cool!
• Grandpa would pay cash for his cars, so he owned them outright. Then, he still made monthly car payments to himself. After 5 years, his current car would poop out but he would have a large pot of money to buy a new car with. This way, he never had to borrow money from the bank for a car loan

Grandpa, thank you for teaching me the value of money!

There is a small town called Addeston, Ohio. It is well known for being a speed trap. Outside the town, it is 40 MPH and then it drops to 15 MPH when you hit the town limit.

One day, my uncle Harry was going to work and got pull over. He refused to sign the ticket. Now, the cop threatened him and said you will sign it or I will arrest you.

Unfortunately for him, my uncle was a very smart man and replied “Go ahead. If you arrest me, you need to take me to the Hamilton County jail. I know for a fact that it cost $300/day to house a prisoner. Your town will have to foot the bill. I will wait a week and then admit to speeding in court and pay your $25 fine”. The cop let him go.

Once when I was very young, I was in the car with my dad going to get gas at the local UDF on a Thursday night. Every Thursday, they had a sale on gas and you got a nickel off. I always went because I hoped he would buy me an ice cream.

One day, we saw a woman walking down the street and I asked him if he would ever cheat on my mother. He emphatically told me I can’t handle one woman! Why the hell would I want two?

My uncle Harry was a civil engineer living in Columbus, OH and was building a bridge in West Virginia. Early every morning he picked up his employees and made the long trip down to work. He was the only one left who had a drivers license. Everyone else had lost them to DUI’s.

One day, he got pulled over by the cops for speeding. My uncle explained his situation but the cop gave him a ticket anyway. Upset, he made a comment that it didn’t really matter because the cops can’t really win. You see, theoretically the chances were actually in HIS favor, because there were far more cars speeding than cops could catch at any one time. After a long shift, they headed home. On the way, they got pulled over again. It was the EXACT same cop and he gave him another ticket. The cop told my uncle, Harry, let me explain this to you because you don’t seem to understand. We are not just THEORECTICALLY winning but we are ACTUALLY winning.

My uncle got back in his car and told his employees If I get one more speeding ticket, we’re all screwed.

This story pretty much sums up my entire Army experience. In 1988, I turned 18 and went into the Army. One day I was told to get in a large truck and drive a across the base to deliver some live missiles to the firing range. Oh, and this was to be done at night … with no head lights on … down a dirt road … on a steep hillside … for training. I dutifully did as I was told. Hell, what did I know?

Unfortunately, I missed a turn and rolled the vehicle down a hill several times. Turns out, rocket fuel is considered a hazardous material AND you need a truck drivers license before climbing into the cab and putting it in drive. Who knew?

I was confined to the barracks and had no idea what was going on. A kindly sergeant finally told me the truth. They planned to court marshal me and put me in prison because of the high dollar amount of damage. He recommended I sneak out, call my parents, and ask for help. I was able to get hold of my mother. Approximately 6 hours later, two congressional investigators showed up and started asking questions. Suddenly, the problem disappeared (like magic). Thank you mom for saving my arse again! 🙂

My older brother Wayne and I were in the Boy Scouts. One time, we went camping and he had bought himself an air mattress just for the trip. Now, understand that my brother did not like to share. He bragged and rubbed it in my face about how he was going to be sooooooo comfortable.

Unfortunately for him, he pitched his tent next to the creek. That night, the creek came up and he floated out of the tent and down stream a few yards, landing next to a felled tree with sharp branches. In the morning, we heard was a lot of splashing around and some childhood cussing. He ended up with a wet sleeping bag, a hole in his air mattress, and a big bag of sour grapes. Ha ha sucka!