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tybeegb last won the day on December 1 2013

tybeegb had the most liked content!

About tybeegb

  • Rank
  • Birthday 08/07/1950

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  • Gender
  • Location
    Tybee Island, GA
  • Interests
    Interested in everything. Good at nothing.

Profile Fields

  • Bike(s)
    None at the moment. They're hanging on the wall.

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1,312 profile views
  1. tybeegb

    Broadband is out.

    We have AT&T. For more than four years now it has been going out. I call to report it and have to go through their script they read about how they are most happy to help me with MY problem to the point I want to scream it's your problem not mine and I can tell you where the problem is because this is the tenth time I've had to call and yes I have rebooted the router and no there has been no construction in the area and yes the internal house wiring is good and how come it will take three days to get someone to come fix it when I see AT&T trucks all over the island each and every day. Then when a guy shows up and tells me it looks like the problem is external to the house and I ask him has he checked the pole on the corner down the street and he says he will and comes back to let me know that "someone" else was doing some work at that pole and cut one of the lines to our house and that he had to climb the pole to find another pair and if I have any more trouble in the next thirty days to call him and not the customer service number.
  2. tybeegb

    How do you get your news?

    In no particular order; TV, radio, newspaper (the real paper kind we get delivered every morning). I don't get anything on my cell phone except the amber alerts.
  3. tybeegb

    Young parent(s) then & now

    We are two years apart. Me the oldest. Married at 21/19. Had the first son at 24/22. Second son at 28/26. Insurance paid for both, luckily.
  4. tybeegb

    Yeah, So About That Headwind

    I hate the gusts. You can get used to the steady 10-15mph "breeze", but then a gust of 30-40 will hit you and you go from 12-15mph to 5mph like a stuck brake.
  5. tybeegb

    Does your town have pay parking?

    That's Tybee's biggest source of revenue by far. Most of the spaces are electronic "kiosks", with a few areas with meters. There is an app available for cell phones where you can get parking time before you get to the island. Once you have your little printout from a "kiosk", or the app purchase recorded, it's good for anywhere on the island for however much time you purchased. Tybee residents get a parking decal free of charge each year, but for the public it's up to $175. I have had people tell me that that is a good deal as they come to the beach a LOT and would have to pay more than that without the decal.
  6. tybeegb

    Serious question

    That was my answer.
  7. tybeegb

    trying to muster up enthusiasm

    I hated those. The last several years I worked it got to where I would just take last year's "submission", change the date, swap the percentages around, and turn It in. Got the same "increase" and was one year closer to retirement.
  8. tybeegb

    Educational TV at 5 AM

    I've been moving about for a while now on two crutches. Then I have to lay in bed for the rest of the day and night. I started on one crutch this week and it hasn't been any fun. Last night I was really sore so I may need to go back to two crutches. As it is I am bending the doctor's orders trying to get to 100%. Not working so far.
  9. tybeegb

    Educational TV at 5 AM

    Over the past 2 1/2 months I have learned that late night/early morning TV has a lot of interesting stuff. I guess that's one good thing about laying in bed all day, and night.
  10. tybeegb

    Tell me about Nashville

    One of the bars I went to had PBR. So I liked Nashville.
  11. tybeegb

    Well that was diffcult to watch.

    X-rays on the 6th of this month. I'll know more then. Hopefully at least to be able to ride, as running is evil.
  12. tybeegb

    Well that was diffcult to watch.

    It was birthday day for Eric, who crashed with me back in December. Me with the hip socket crack and he with the broken collarbone. His wife threw a surprise birthday "party" on Wednesday for him; his 45th. Eric's First Annual Biathlon. 13 mile bike and 3 mile run. Something easy to do but fun. I show up just to eat cake and watch. Eric is fully healed and ready to go. I'm still on crutches. Not a big turnout, but enthusiastic as usual for Tybee. I did not have fun. It was cold. My hip hurt. I am ready to ditch the crutches and start with the program again.
  13. tybeegb

    Did you have marbles when you were a kid ?

    It's long, but here is what I wrote about my marble playing days, and where they ended up. True story. The Marble Kid There are some things that stand out from our past; when we were young and didn't have a care in the world except how much play time we could work into every day. What we played at, at that time, wasn't important. What was important was that we got to play, and that we had the most fun from the games we played; and we all had our favorite game. For me, when I was very young, it was playing marbles. I was a pretty fair marble player. In a brief career that lasted until I discovered there were other things in life besides marbles, 1959 to be exact, I don’t recall losing very many marbles; almost always coming home with more than I left with; the playing kind of course. There were some kids who sometimes thought I had lost the other kind as well. It all started one winter day when we were roaming around an old dump close to where we lived. There were some mounds of dirt that we were all crawling over. Someone found a marble; then another; and another. There were marbles buried all over this one mound. We spent hours digging them out. We knew what they were, but we really didn’t play marbles since none of us had any. But, this was something new to do so we started playing. I can’t remember my first game, but I can remember playing as far back as that winter, before I turned seven. The year was 1957. It didn’t take long before marbles took over most of my playtime. I remember one time when I got to come home early from school. At recess I had run into another kid head on, gashed my forehead open, lots of blood, and had to go to the hospital for stitches. The first thing I did when I got home was to grab my marbles and head over to a friends house for a game, headache and all, and played until almost dark. I can’t remember if I won or lost marbles that day but I didn’t care; it was a whole lot better than school. I never really bragged about how well I could shoot marbles; which could have brought on a lot more challengers, and possibly more wins, or more losses, depending on how good they were. I just took it for granted that I could win and they would lose, and that was that; no crowing or gloating. I would just take my marbles, and theirs a lot of the time, and go home. It wasn’t that I was modest, I just never thought about being better than the other kids; I just thought they couldn’t play as well as I could. In anyone’s life there are events that stand out from others; some are good, some are bad. Out of all the experiences I had shooting marbles (the official challenge was “let’s shoot some marbles”), two stand out from all the rest. I can remember specific shots from some games that were picture perfect; when the shooter would hit the target marble absolutely dead center, send it literally flying out of the circle, and the shooter would occupy the same spot and spin down, boring a little indentation in the dirt. Those were the shots that made the game worth playing; win or lose. There were a lot of those shots made when I played, but two challenges stand out in my memory, like trophies that only I can enjoy. They will always bring a smile to my face. The First Challenge One hot summer day, a friend of mine from school, who lived in another neighborhood, brought a friend of his to our neighborhood to play. He was a big kid, twice my size, with a bag of marbles, and a cigar box with a hole cut out in the center of the lid, barely larger than a marble. My friend had been telling him I could play marbles pretty good, and he had come to see just how good I was. We only played a few games before he quit, and again I had more marbles than when I started. Then he said he had a proposition for me. He put five marbles in the cigar box, closed it, and set it on the ground. He said if I could drop a marble, from nose high, through the hole, I would get the marbles in the box. But it couldn’t be just any marble; it had to be a shooter. He had seen me play, so he knew which marble was my shooter. If I missed, he got the shooter. Now, losing a shooter was a big deal. It took time to cull out the best marbles from the bunch. We didn’t understand the laws of physics, like density and mass, but we knew when one marble, the same size as the rest, had what it took to be used as a shooter. So, losing a shooter wasn’t to be taken lightly. And the ones I had came from that pile of dirt in the dump, and they were the older marbles, much better than the new ones being made. But, being ignorant, the thought of failing never even crossed my mind. I said okay, stood over the box, dropped my shooter through the hole, and took his five marbles. Did it two times in a row. I was up ten more marbles, and he quit, again. He muttered something about coming to his neighborhood and he could play better. I did, he didn’t, and I had more marbles to add to my collection. Several years later he and I joined the same scout troop and went camping together. He would always fix the best pancakes, but he never mentioned playing marbles. I don’t think he remembered me, and I didn’t remind him since he was cooking me pancakes. The Last Challenge Before school was another time to play marbles. I was in the third grade, and was the only one who went to that school from my neighborhood. Only one person at this school really knew where I lived or what I did when I wasn’t at school; the friend I mentioned previously. That year a new kid, older by a couple of grades, came to the school, and he just happened to like to play marbles. There was a vacant lot with perfect dirt across the street from the school, and they would meet there early and play a few games before the nuns called us to line up for class. Well this same friend mentioned to them that I could play pretty good, so the new kid said for me to bring a lot of marbles if I wanted to play. The next day I loaded up some marbles in my book bag and set off to school. I don’t know where this kid came from, and I can’t even remember his name or face, but he had come up with a game I had never seen. He drew a larger circle than normal, close to four feet across, poured twenty marbles out of his bag and bunched them up in the middle of the circle as usual. I added my twenty, and bunched them up with his in a neat circle. Then he pulled out a shiny black peewee and put it in the center of the other marbles, on top. Instead of shooting the marbles out of the circle one at a time until they were gone, the rules were a little different. You could play the normal way, one marble at a time until you had a clear shot at the peewee, or you could zero in on the little black marble, shoot it out of the circle, and win all the marbles left in the pot. One thing I was terrible at was getting the first shot; I could not shoot to the line worth a crap. This day was no different, so I had to settle for shooting second. I was sure this kid was going to clean me out, since it was his game. But, to my amazement, he went for the peewee, overshot, and busted some of the marbles out of the tightly packed circle. The peewee was still sitting on the top of the rest of them, undisturbed. In a normal game, I would immediately go for the marbles that had been spread out from the pack; pick them off one by one until they were all mine. But this circle was bigger, and a lot more difficult to get a high probability shot. Of course that’s not what I was thinking then since I had no clue about percentages or odds. Back then I was thinking this kid was honing in on the peewee, so I might as well do the same as long as I had a clear shot at it. I got down on my knees and elbows, in the dirt, in my clean school uniform, and took my usual shooting stance. Unlike the other kid, who was using a bomber, I was using one of the few shooters I really liked; one from the dump. Anyway, I cradled my shooter in the crook of my right forefinger (most marble shooters used the index finger to hold the marble, but I always used my "birdie" finger), cocked my thumb behind it, took aim, and let it fly. To this day I still can’t believe it. I don’t recall ever trying to do it again, even just playing around. It was like slow motion replay. That shooter flew in a slight arc into the circle of marbles, and hit the peewee square on, launching it off the pile and out of the circle. My shooter skipped a few marbles over and spun down to a stop. One shot, twenty more marbles; the other kid just stood there gaping. I could not believe it. Fortunately for me, as I was bagging my winnings, the nuns called for us to form up in line, so that was the only game played that day. I can’t remember playing any more at school after that. Where are my marbles today? Well, in one day of total dumbness, when the china berry tree had given us the last of its natural fruit and we were out of slingshot ammunition, I pulled out my marble collection and used them to shoot at targets; birds, bottles, model planes and boats, anything. I shot every marble I had out into nowhere. Never to be seen again. But as I think about it now, that’s where a lot of them had come from, a dump, where someone else had tossed them aside. Maybe it’s fitting that that’s how they ended up. Maybe another young boy found some of them. I only hope that if that did happen, he had as much fun with them as I did.
  14. tybeegb

    Did you have marbles when you were a kid ?

    Not even close.