| Kay,
My experience was similar to Chris's. Of course I'd been modeling
all my life so the die was cast and Kathi was forewarned BEFORE
the fact of wedlock what to expect as an R/C widow. Of course,
she was eager to please in the beginning and supported/participated
to a considerable degree, so I bought her her own plane and radio
and began teaching her to fly.
As time went on she discovered the social aspects of the sport and
diverted her prorities in the direction of all the really neat people
we have the opportunity to know via the hobby. She'd already pretty
much decided she didn't have the required hand/eye coordination
to fly so this new outlet replaced any desire, pretended or otherwise,
that she had to fly. This worked out super 'cause I got her plane
and radio (and I never took Psych-101 either).
Today she still actively supports my participation in R/C, travels
to all the meets and takes an active administrative role in the
workings of the One-Eighth Air Force...she's even been overheard
using the old cliche"it keeps him off the streets and out of the bars."
The highlight of the social part of the sport for Kathi (and me
TOO) has been the opportunity to become acquainted with fellow-R/C'er
and rock music legend, Roy Orbison. We met Roy at the '84 Scale
Masters and have corresponded with him ever since (Roy's been a
modeler ever since he was a kid). We've been fortunate enough to
be his guests at several public and one private concert and have
even been his guests at his home (palace?) in Malibu....REAL nice,
down-to-earth guy!! He's sent us a Christmas card every year since
we met him. I'm guessing at your age group, but tell your spouce
this story and convince her that Bruce Springsteen is a modeler
and you may be able to close the book on any further opposition
"to playing with toys!"
Adios, Al
|
| Wives, girlfriends, S/O, or anyone who lives with a modeler deserves
a copy of this (-: Read and smile!
REPRINTED WITHOUT PERMISSION from RC Modeler, August, 1989, page 74.
"More Woes From the R/C Wife: 'Household Theft "
Radio control wives of America -- arise! It's time for us to join
hands in the fight against the crimes being committed in our very
own households.
Yes, it's time for us to take our heads out of the sand and
face the truth. Our husbands -- those charming men who we wed for
better or for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health
-- are thieves.
I'm sure that some of you poor misled innocents out there are
exclaiming, "My husband? Never!" I hate to be the one to burst your
bubble, but it's the truth.
Remember those two roles of paper towels you bought just last
week? Are you wondering where the second roll went? It wasn't the
paper towel gnomes.
How about that full jug of window cleaner? My, my! Look how
that monokote shines!
Don't get me wrong -- denial is a perfectly normal first step
in accepting the bitter truth. For months I thought that it was
premature senility on my part when I kept finding my iron on my
husband's workbench, in his tool chest, or in the garage. Knowing
that my beloved husband couldn't possibly be filching my belongings,
the only reasonable explanation was that I was having blackouts and
then doing my ironing in strange places. Due to the fact that my
ironing never seemed to get touched after these blackouts, it soon
became apparant that senility wasn't to blame.
Then step two set in. Blame the kids. It seemed perfectly
normal that they would "borrow" my clip clothespins to torture each
other.
What better use for a blow dryer than to style the hamster's
fur?
And what could be more natural than using my good scissors to
cut each other's hair?
Alas, with no eveidence whatsoever to support my theory, I was
finally forced to look to John. (besides -- the kids squealed on
him.)
After a mere six and a half hours of searching through his assorted
paraphenelia, my efforts were rewarded with all of the missing household
items. What a collection! Wax paper (3 rolls), once good wash clothes
(4), dish soap (1), steak knives (7), notebooks (3), and one of my
good t-shirts.
I stuffed all the contraband items into my stolen laundry basket
and faced the rotten thief with them when he came home from work.
His first reaction was, "Me? What would I need all of that
unfamiliar stuff for? You must have done it yourself."
Ha! How stupid does he think I am? I quickly put him in his
place, and demanded and explanation.
"It must have been the kids! Can't trust the little munchkins
for a minute!" he exclaimed hopefully.
"How dare you blame those innocent little babies for your crimes!?"
I cried, the perfect picture of the insulted mama.
His face fell as his last hope bottomed out.
"All right! I confess! It was me!"
Surprise, surprise.
"But I needed that stuff!"
In one swift motion I pulled out four spools of thread. "What
on earth did you need these for?"
"To tie the ribs of my wing into place while the glue dried."
"You needed four different colors?"
"Well, I put one down and couldn't find it, so I 'borrowed'
another one and before you know it ..."
I whipped out my once white T-shirt. "This?"
"I thought it was a rag."
"This crochet hook?"
"Couldn't reach a wire."
Groan. Temper held carefully in check, I simply had to ask
the million dollar question.
"John, you have spent hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of
dollars on your obsession. Why not spring 50 cents on your own roll
of paper towels?"
His face took on a look of righteous indignation. "I don't
want to waste money!"
This from the man who bought one engine for $164.95, decided
he needed (and I use that term loosely) a different one, spent $179.95
on it, and kept them both.
We finally worked out a compromise. If he desperately "needs"
something of mine, he will ask first and return it when he's done.
I, in turn, won't hurt him.
Well, time to glue the head back onto one of the girl's dolls.
John has this wonderful bottle of glue in his tool chest ...
- Shawn MacDonald
In addition to the above items, I'd like to add more missing items;
A cake rack (to cool the iron on - of course!)
Scotch tape (3 or 4 rolls by now, I lost count)
MY exacto knife, which I found with the tip of my finger, while
searching for my scissors. OUCH!
And a few other bits of balsa and the motor for my PT-E -- which
he got permission for FIRST!
Anyone have any other 'strange' 'borrowed' items??
This is all in good fun, hope I haven't hit too many nerves out
there!
Patty
|