The activities at Pacers normally drew a crowd.
On this particular evening,
along with the men, was another ‘distinctive’ onlooker. One which had more hair than the usual attendees. A
lot more hair. Taz wasn’t the only animal in the shop. Tonight a monkey joined the men. Just to clarify,
we are not talking about any particular human being... but that of a real monkey.
Cute and agile, this little monkey sat perched upon the shoulders of its owner. He was oblivious to the tasks at
hand. Although he was entertainment, the real entertainment was the Taz.
George and Otto were busy fine tuning. Anticipation was building. With each adjustment, each turn of a wrench, the expectations
grew. For each, brought one step closer the final goal.
As the men worked, the monkey - not surprisingly
- decided to try a taller perch. That perch? Otto. At well over 6 feet, Otto - and his broad muscular shoulders - made
for the perfect sight seeing roost.
A monkey on your shoulders tends to grab your attention.
Can you imagine the difficulty of focusing on engine timings and gaskets with this curious creature bouncing about? Even if
we are talking about the Taz.
Otto was enjoying the unusual antics on his shoulders.
Charlie and George continued working.
A major highlight of being at the shop, was when the Taz
was there. Everyone waited, and hoped, to witness the engine being fired up.
That is unless
you are the monkey!
ROAR! Like a thunderclap the engine was started... and with that, so were the monkeys bowels. The overwhelming noise, literally
and figuratively, scared the shit out of the poor little -
no longer cute - animal.
Forget the poor monkey... Poor Otto!
My father, a highly intelligent, capable, grown
man was now reduced into a heap of hysteria. He pointed his finger at Otto and stewed in his fit of laughter that lasted at least an hour.