tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13498449.post4535195727888959417..comments2023-12-31T09:17:15.628-05:00Comments on A Life in Pages: A Job I Do Not Want . . .Angelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15745389922246602752noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13498449.post-87760118254650668512010-09-24T08:05:27.731-04:002010-09-24T08:05:27.731-04:00'cuse me while I go throw up!'cuse me while I go throw up!Kathy Casselhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02886511489428522492noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13498449.post-79099753921272579892010-09-24T07:38:10.693-04:002010-09-24T07:38:10.693-04:00My dad was a radio engineer and in his younger yea...My dad was a radio engineer and in his younger years he would sometimes have to climb the radio transmission tower to make repairs. Back in the 1950's the towers were not as tall as they are now but still were a couple of hundred feet high. I remember the day my dad came home and said he would never climb again...it was windy and he was scared spitless! My mother nearly fainted when she heard what he had done under the weather conditions. Me? I was too young to understand the risk. But my dad never climbed another tower. If repairs or maintenance was required, he had the station owners hire a climber. After seeing this video, I don't blame him.Ruthiehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08989590904544242523noreply@blogger.com