I use to live in New Jersey. Now, my cousin and her husband are professors at Princeton. Great, great, great pizza.
Now I’m really jealous. I too worked in the family business. (HVAC and heating oil) and my brothers and I never got a choice in the music we listened to. We worked with a bunch of “old” guys who all had their radios permanently set for country music (and I mean radios purposely broken so the station could not be changed). I spent countless hours fabricating duct work to twang. I shudder at Conway Twitty to this day. And wherever we might be around town, everything stopped for Paul Harvey at lunch time. Good memories though it felt like the inner circle of hell at the time....
With the exception of Marty Robbins and eating at the Tigard Buster's Texas style barbecue, I hate country and Western with a passion.
Kul... I live in Hamilton Twp. Remember the Princeton record exchange off Nassau near Chuck Wings on Spring? Every one of those employees were men in black monitored.
Totally like the finger pickin of Johnny Hiland and Vince Gill. Dire Straights album "On Every Street" is licked with country. Great because it is not twang
Never been to Princeton. I was in the Army back in the late 60s at Ft. Monmouth. We would go to a bar in Red Bank that would serve us underage soldiers. I think the bar was connected with the mob. Somewhere around there was a boardwalk with some fabulous vacation homes inhabited by the über wealthy.
I know exactly where you were. In the day, I did a lot of home inspections in Monmouth. Little Silver and Rumson ===East of Red Bank on the peninsula where Fabulously wealthy people had tennis courts and court jesters.
I got a diploma in one and two family building inspection at PCC. Went out on some inspections in Washington County. Even red tagged a concrete job. That took balls. But, hey, my dad was a brick layer so I've been around lots of construction workers while working in construction, myself. That's how I earned my college money the first two years.
That is hard work. Better to be the inspector. Cracked skin on under finger tips and sore rotator cuffs. I did remember that well.
I got strong as an ox. I once picked up a wheel barrow by the handles that weighed about 1,100 pounds and wheeled it over bulldozered baked Georgia clay about 2,000 feet. That meant I dead lifted 550 lbs. I think I weighed about 150 lbs. at the time. I worked as a hod carrier. Sometimes I had to cut the 'mud' by hand with a mixing box and a concrete hoe. That is why I worked hard and got a degree in engineering. Well, that and I wanted to honor my deceased father's wish. It didn't hurt that my new found profession involved no interpretation or blood. Strictly science and mathematics. I did get to discuss fluid dynamics with my doctor at one time regarding blood flow through the vessels.
