Motel Jobs For Couples : Bed And Breakfast In Bc : Boutique Hotel California.
Motel Jobs For Couples
- Join to form a pair
- (couple) a pair of people who live together; "a married couple from Chicago"
- Connect (a railroad vehicle or a piece of equipment) to another
- (couple) match: bring two objects, ideas, or people together; "This fact is coupled to the other one"; "Matchmaker, can you match my daughter with a nice young man?"; "The student was paired with a partner for collaboration on the project"
- (couple) a pair who associate with one another; "the engaged couple"; "an inseparable twosome"
- (job) a specific piece of work required to be done as a duty or for a specific fee; "estimates of the city's loss on that job ranged as high as a million dollars"; "the job of repairing the engine took several hours"; "the endless task of classifying the samples"; "the farmer's morning chores"
- (job) profit privately from public office and official business
- Steven (Paul) (1955–), US computer entrepreneur. He set up the Apple computer company in 1976 with Steve Wozniak and served as chairman until 1985, returning in 1997 as CEO. He is also the former CEO of the Pixar animation studio
- (job) occupation: the principal activity in your life that you do to earn money; "he's not in my line of business"
motel jobs for couples - Emotional Fitness
Emotional Fitness for Couples: 10 Minutes a Day to a Better Relationship
Peak athletic performance requires regular exercise, and a great relationship depends on regular emotional practice to stay in top form. Don't wait for a crisis to make you scramble to save your relationship. Start building emotional fitness today! Emotional Fitness for Couples is a collection of simple tips that will energize you and hone your relationship skills to championship levels-in just ten minutes a day.
Topics include: what the word 'love' really means; how to start fires in your sex life; how to date your mate; tricks for stopping an argument before it starts; and many other fun and practical ideas for getting emotionally fit.
why would i stay at a motel that's 5 miles from my house?
Great article about this place on the Post-Gazette site. I've duplicated it below just in case they ever remove it from their site, though. A man, a motel and a mystery: Route 51 inn finally opens -- almost 50 years after late owner began work Wednesday, December 26, 2001 By Brian O'Neill, Post-Gazette Staff Writer Claude Melvin Kauffman was tough. To spend more than half of your 92 years building and never finishing a motel, you'd have to be. "He never wanted to borrow money just to pay somebody to finish it," his nephew and heir, Jere Hess, said. "I could never understand why he didn't. He had a nice income. He wasn't hurting for money. It was something he wanted to do by himself." Kauffman died just before Thanksgiving last year, with his life's work unfinished. His motel never opened, despite almost 50 years of toiling at it. He once confided that he had sunk more than $1 million into the place everyone up and down Route 51 calls the "Stone Motel." Dan and Linda Taiedi of Jefferson Hills, owners of a convenience store in West Elizabeth, paid the Kauffman estate $250,000 for the property on April 13. They spent the next six months readying it for opening. Stone masons, drywallers, plumbers, electricians and roofers came in waves. Twenty-five tons of stone from Tennessee was brought in to match the stone Kauffman had put in place. A three-man crew led by Rick DiPippa of Green Tree spent 2 1/2 months mortaring the thousands of stones in place, one piece at a time. Meantime, Linda sanded the dirt and soot from the solid oak doors of the 26 rooms that form a single-story "L" above Route 51. The Jefferson Hills Motel opened Oct. 23 with the message "A Dream Come True" on the marquee. The timing could hardly be better. A new Mon Valley Expressway exit will open less than two miles south by next spring. Linda Taiedi says more than one Mon Valley resident has paid the $38 for a room for the night, after having watched the place go unused for most of their lives. "We made Clyde's dream come true," Linda said. Linda slips and calls Claude "Clyde" as often as not. She has known about this stone motel since she was a little girl growing up in Whitaker, but she never even knew the owner's name until she bought it. She never met the man whom she and her husband intend to honor with a plaque on the side of the motel. What should that plaque say? Kauffman was an enigma to the end. "If I could get inside his head, I could help you a lot," Hess said when asked about his uncle. "But nobody could." Hess had only the barest sketch of his uncle's life. Kauffman grew up on a farm in Rawlinsville, Lancaster County, the youngest of eight or nine children in a Mennonite family. Family legend has it that he went 15 years without missing Sunday school. As a young man, he moved to Tennessee and became an electrician. He worked for the Tennessee Valley Authority and, it was said, on the Manhattan Project that built the first atom bomb. When he moved to McKeesport in 1949 to do a job for Westinghouse, it cost him a wife. She stayed in Tennessee. "He was a very stubborn guy, strong-willed almost to a fault," Hess said. Deeds show he bought properties in Jefferson Hills in October 1952 and February 1953. By the summer of 1954, photos show him on that property building the stone pillars that mark the motel's driveway today. But the blank pages in this story are more numerous than those filled in. Photos from January 1961 show Kauffman building a two-story stone house that fronts on Route 51 -- almost seven years after the driveway pillars went in. Even PennDot worked faster than Kauffman. When he began dynamiting the hillside in the early 1950s, Route 51 was a two-lane road. Today, there are four lanes and the road is within spitting distance of the two-story stone house that fronts the motel nestled in the hills. Its second floor is the motel office. Randy Lucas, who replaced the roof, said he was stunned by the work that had been done. "It was a great building," Lucas said. "It was a solid building. It just needed finished." Then there are the unusual features, such as the heated driveway and the tunnel beneath the rooms. Five feet wide and seven feet high, the tunnel has the mundane purpose of providing easy access for plumbing and electrical work, but this place has been so shrouded in mystery, Linda has been asked about rumors of the Mafia hiding cars down there. Mob cars aren't that small, the last anyone checked. "I think he walks that tunnel at night," Linda said of Kauffman. By day, Kauffman was a union electrician, working at the Beaver Valley Nuclear Power Plant in Shippingport. But union records show he hadn't worked since being laid off in 1985. Frank Ciccanti owns Ciccanti's restaurant directly across the four-lane road from the motel. "I've bee
This was the story of Hurricane
Pistol shots ring out in the barroom night Enter Patty Valentine from the upper hall. She sees the bartender in a pool of blood, Cries out, "My God, they killed them all!" Here comes the story of the Hurricane, The man the authorities came to blame For somethin' that he never done. Put in a prison cell, but one time he could-a been The champion of the world. Three bodies lyin' there does Patty see And another man named Bello, movin' around mysteriously. "I didn't do it," he says, and he throws up his hands "I was only robbin' the register, I hope you understand. I saw them leavin'," he says, and he stops "One of us had better call up the cops." And so Patty calls the cops And they arrive on the scene with their red lights flashin' In the hot New Jersey night. Meanwhile, far away in another part of town Rubin Carter and a couple of friends are drivin' around. Number one contender for the middleweight crown Had no idea what kinda shit was about to go down When a cop pulled him over to the side of the road Just like the time before and the time before that. In Paterson that's just the way things go. If you're black you might as well not show up on the street 'Less you wanna draw the heat. Alfred Bello had a partner and he had a rap for the cops. Him and Arthur Dexter Bradley were just out prowlin' around He said, "I saw two men runnin' out, they looked like middleweights They jumped into a white car with out-of-state plates." And Miss Patty Valentine just nodded her head. Cop said, "Wait a minute, boys, this one's not dead" So they took him to the infirmary And though this man could hardly see They told him that he could identify the guilty men. Four in the mornin' and they haul Rubin in, Take him to the hospital and they bring him upstairs. The wounded man looks up through his one dyin' eye Says, "Wha'd you bring him in here for? He ain't the guy!" Yes, here's the story of the Hurricane, The man the authorities came to blame For somethin' that he never done. Put in a prison cell, but one time he could-a been The champion of the world. Four months later, the ghettos are in flame, Rubin's in South America, fightin' for his name While Arthur Dexter Bradley's still in the robbery game And the cops are puttin' the screws to him, lookin' for somebody to blame. "Remember that murder that happened in a bar?" "Remember you said you saw the getaway car?" "You think you'd like to play ball with the law?" "Think it might-a been that fighter that you saw runnin' that night?" "Don't forget that you are white." Arthur Dexter Bradley said, "I'm really not sure." Cops said, "A poor boy like you could use a break We got you for the motel job and we're talkin' to your friend Bello Now you don't wanta have to go back to jail, be a nice fellow. You'll be doin' society a favor. That sonofabitch is brave and gettin' braver. We want to put his ass in stir We want to pin this triple murder on him He ain't no Gentleman Jim." Rubin could take a man out with just one punch But he never did like to talk about it all that much. It's my work, he'd say, and I do it for pay And when it's over I'd just as soon go on my way Up to some paradise Where the trout streams flow and the air is nice And ride a horse along a trail. But then they took him to the jailhouse Where they try to turn a man into a mouse. All of Rubin's cards were marked in advance The trial was a pig-circus, he never had a chance. The judge made Rubin's witnesses drunkards from the slums To the white folks who watched he was a revolutionary bum And to the black folks he was just a crazy nigger. No one doubted that he pulled the trigger. And though they could not produce the gun, The D.A. said he was the one who did the deed And the all-white jury agreed. Rubin Carter was falsely tried. The crime was murder "one," guess who testified? Bello and Bradley and they both baldly lied And the newspapers, they all went along for the ride. How can the life of such a man Be in the palm of some fool's hand? To see him obviously framed Couldn't help but make me feel ashamed to live in a land Where justice is a game. Now all the criminals in their coats and their ties Are free to drink martinis and watch the sun rise While Rubin sits like Buddha in a ten-foot cell An innocent man in a living hell. That's the story of the Hurricane, But it won't be over till they clear his name And give him back the time he's done. Put in a prison cell, but one time he could-a been The champion of the world. [Bob Dylan, 1975]