GBE Inner Peace - The Land of the Midnight Sun
Category: Life

My blog today is a repost from May 8, 2007. I have never reposted before this one, but this story came directly to mind for the subject of the GBE. The GBE or Group Blogging Experience is a collective of bloggers that all interpret a subject given to them by the moderator. The subject for the GBE this week is Inner Peace. As you may see that I found inner peace, just not right away. I hope you enjoy the story.

I could never call the great expanse of our 49^th state barren. Life was abundant year round in every corner that I explored. The summers were endless days of light that were filled with colorful vegetation. The winters were never ending nights painted white by moons larger than life and dancing ice crystals in the air.

On a regular basis my Uncle Sam would see fit to have sixty four of his favorite nephews (Sixty four is a plane load) flown to a less inhabited area of the state to practice running around in circles. Sometimes he would take less of these field trips and sometimes more. All of these favored siblings would happily jump from the aircraft in mid flight and float (normally) safely down to Earth under a canopy of white silk. 

I was honored to be on one such trip to a place called Windy Ridge. You may have guessed correctly that the name of this piece of terrain could be compared to standing in front of a giant air conditioner turned on high all the time. I remember my stepfather walking into the living room and saying "What is wrong with you boys? It must be forty below in here!" Guess what. He was wrong. I learned how forty below felt on this trust ridgeline. It was so cold spit formed ice cubes before it hit the ground. I saw two foxes huddled so close they had one strip between them. One of my buddies adjusted his cap and accidentally broke an eyebrow off… Anyway it was cold.

Our fearless leader at the time was First Sergeant Bugsy Moran. This man was absolutely the toughest person I have ever met in my life. He once brought down a bull moose with his bare hands to make sure we all had plenty to eat, but that is another story. Just trust me…a true five foot nine giant among men.

First Sergeant Moran decided that we should operate at "battlefield conditions".  In layman's terms it means you eat one meal a day of sawdust and water while sleeping no more than an hour a day. When you aren't wasting your time with trivial things like sleep and food, you walk or dig. Dig is a relative term here because much of the tundra is actually permafrost. (i.e. harder than Chinese algebra)

After we spent a week of walking through the eternal night of the Northern frontier we settled one night to catch our hour of restful bliss. Learning that sleep is something you only think your body requires, I let my buddy TA take the first few winks while I took guard duty.

I settled to sit on my backpack and gaze at the stars. The sky in the far northern hemisphere is like none other I have ever experienced. The black felt texture of the night was so close you could feel the texture against your skin. Bright silver jewels were tossed across the expanse so numerous Methuselah couldn't have counted them in a lifetime.

One pinpoint of light showed brighter than the rest. It was small at first glance but had a piercing effect of an arrow headed directly at you. Seconds passed and the light began to grow larger and brighter. I leaned over to nudge Tony and asked, "Do you see that?" "No" came a response from the heap of olive drab laundry beside me.  "But T.A., I think we may be hit by a falling satellite." His only answer this time was to adjust his position without speaking.

I watched the white light grow and moments later it began to change colors. First the colors were subtle yellows that seemed to stretch the circle into an oblong disk. The disk appeared to flatten and stretch into a lounging position that filled the sky even more. The flattening brought hues of blue and green. At some point in this light show I had stood without realizing. My heart raced. My throat grew tight. I KICKED my sleeping compatriot. "I think I am hallucinating!" I tried to scream but only a squeak escaped. "I want to go home toTennessee!" In his ever slow, Alabama style that had originally made me comfortable with him, Tony peeked from his fortress of warmth at the sky, then at me.  "Kick me again or bother me before it is time for my watch and I will poke a hole the size of Fort Knox in your water cup."

"Can you not see it?" I asked bouncing up and down while pointing at the sky.

"Well, of course, you backwoods, uncouth, redneck. It's the Aurora Borealis. It happens all the time." He said and closed the flap over his eyes in an apparent attempt to slip back into sleep.

I stopped hopping but I still wasn't sure what to do. I was eighteen years old and a thousand miles from home. I was witnessing something that I thought may explain crop formations, Stonehenge and my grandmother's rumatism. I tried my pal one more time, "Is it safe for me to be out here unprotected?"

I think this must have been the final straw for TA. He sat up in such a hurry that all of his covers fell around him like petals of an open blossom. He looked at me and explained "For the grace of God and all southern women, you are looking at the Northern Lights. It is the sun's rays refracting off the ice crystals in the air. It will not hurt you. Give it an hour or two and it will shut itself off just like your nightlight back at the barracks."

The dawning of the magnificent natural wonder finally trickled down the back of my brain. I looked at the sky in awe. Man, it really was beautiful. "TA," I said, "this is amazing."

"Yea, buddy, you're right," he said calmly, "and as long as I'm up I think I'll sit here and enjoy it with you."

9:40 PM - 11 Comments - 20 Kudos - Add Comment

GBE What Has Been Lost - Dear Jane
Category: Romance and Relationships

For those that are reading my blog for the first time or have missed the last few weeks I am writing for the GBE or Group Blogging Experience. Basically the moderator gives participating bloggers a subject and we each interpret it.
I am sorry I missed the subject last week. I was busy with the normal stresses of work and fatherhood and single adulthood, while putting the finishing touches on a tavern I opened with my brother, J-Mumbly. If you live in West Tennessee or every pass through our small town of interesting people, come see us at J-Mumbly's Tavern & Eatery.

The subject this week is week is "what has been lost". Interesting subject and it makes me wonder when someone gets a "Dear John" letter what if anyone ever responds. Would you call that a "Dear Jane" letter? What would it tell of the writer? Of the recipient? Of the lost relationship? Let's find out….

Dear Jane,

I understand you don't want to see me and I completely respect your wishes. I would never want you to be with me unless you were sure this is where you want to be. Still I am sorry as I felt we balanced each other in so many ways.

In fact I would have had no balance at all if you hadn't been there to keep me on my barstool after the 15 shots of Jager I drank at your sister's wedding reception. I am just glad to know that your new brother-in-law isn't one to hold a grudge when it was my turn to kiss the bride and I slipped her some tongue.

I also want you to know without you there is a vacant place in my heart and my home. More to the point I have no idea how I will make rent without you. Sure I could get a roommate, but you know how hard it is to get someone as understanding as you about my cousin that sleeps on the couch. Don't worry. He will get another job. He spent the biggest part of this afternoon picking up applications at all the beer stores in the neighborhood.

Even while I write this letter I have the worst, empty feeling in the pit of my stomach. It could be hunger as I have only eaten pizza since you left, but you know I haven't approached a microwave since that popcorn incident. I think the fire department is still using the pictures in their training program.

Please tell your mom one more time I am sorry about her dog. I truly am an animal lover and I still don't understand how it could have gotten its fur caught in the chain of my motorcycle. I do have to admit that its new "racing strip" looks pretty cool.

Last of all I just want to say I am sorry for whatever ultimately drove you away from me. I dreamed of us being together forever and I will miss you for just as long.

                                                John

1:32 PM - 43 Comments - 58 Kudos - Add Comment

J-Mumbly’s Tavern & Eatrery OPENS TODAY...PLEASE REPOST
Category: Food and Restaurants

I am proud to announce a new business that I opened with my brother, J-Mumbly's.

J-Mumbly's Tavern & Eatery, Hollywood Shopping Center, 903 Hollywood Dr 12, is OPENING  Thursday, August 12. Your neighborhood tavern just around the corner is home of live music weekends playing music you know and love.
 
Thursday,August 7 from 9 p.m. until 1 a.m. will be the music of Once Is Less. A new band to the Jackson music scene featuring the talented performance of Wilkes Poteete, Jack and Justin Reed.  $5.00 cover
 
Friday, August 8 from 9 p.m. until 1 a.m. the J-Mumbly stage will feature the sounds of the Chuck Freeman Band. Dance to the classic rock that you have loved for years by one of the area's most established bands. $5.00 cover
 
Saturday, August 9 from until 1 a.m. you can experience a band that is rocketing to local popularity, Ruacamole! Their sound fuses dirty blues with a rock sound that resonates with their Louisianian roots. $5.00 cover.

Come check us out! I look forward to seeing you.

Scott, No I'm The Other One

11:20 PM - 12 Comments - 12 Kudos - Add Comment

GBE Stalking - The Great Unvailing
Category: Friends

I have written as part of the GBE (Group Blogging Experience) for a few weeks now. Basically the moderator names a topic and each writer interprets that subject in their own blog. This week we were instructed to write about "your thoughts on stalking". I can't say I have thought much about stalking, but here is my blog

One of the greatest jobs an underemployed single man can have is checking IDs at a night club. You stand at the door and talk to everyone that enters. People are generally glad to see you and let's face it, the work is not that challenging. I have had the opportunity to be underemployed more than once and have become rather fond of this particular job.

I stood at the door of a large club wearing my favorite pirate shirt (it is important to dress for the occasion) when she approached me. "Want to see my ID?" she asked with a smile as wide as Nebraska.

"No, Katie," I answered as I rolled my eyes, "I have looked at your driver's license so many times I know your address by heart."

"Goooood" she replied "you can use it later."

I focused on her scantly clad body and shook my head absently. "The cover is five bucks." I said as I raised hand waist level and extended my palm.

"Come on." Katie said with a pleading look "I am your BEST customer."

"You are here every night I work and you sit at the end of the bar and stare at me." I told her without smiling "You have threatened girls in the bathroom that have mentioned me and you threw olives across the bar at a girl I was dating until she left. That isn't exactly 'best customer' status."

"Would this change your mind?" she asked as she lifted the spaghetti straps of her dress that seemed to barely cover her to begin. It hit the concrete sidewalk around her high heeled shoes.

I caught my breath and noted "You aren't wearing any underwear."

"I'm not." She assured me with a scrunch of her shoulders and a broad smile.

"Could this be considered stalking?" I asked the air around me.

"Not if we were sleeping together." Katie told me in a matter of fact tone.

"Well…" I answered as I looked in every direction as panic began to fill my body "just get back in your dress. The cover… (I coughed) is on me." I told her with my eyes locked on the concrete in front of me.

I listened as she scurried to pull on her dress, moved to kiss me on the cheek and passed to enter the club. "Have fun," she whispered as she moved past "just not too much WITHOUT me."

I continued to study the ground at my feet and shake my head…

4:08 PM - 39 Comments - 42 Kudos - Add Comment

GBE Vacation - Camping Chaos

I have been writing as part of the GBE (Group Blogging Project) for a few weeks. If you are new to the GBE the based on the bloggers writing on a subject suggested by the moderator. This week's subject is VACATION…so here's your story...:

I have no doubt you have heard how poor some people where when they were children. I had a friend that was so poor that his mom would cut toilet paper in half THE LONG WAY. I had another friend that lived on the same block that had a dad worked as a sanitation engineer. I was 14 before I realized he was really a garbage man and the reason he had so many garage sales is he was bringing home his "special finds".

My family was no better. We had so little when I was a young child that my brothers and I didn't wait on hand-me-downs. My mother would buy three sets of clothes and rotate them between Andy, Chris and me. Let's just say that it was painfully obvious Chris was three years younger and Andy was six. Mother did make sure we had breakfast every morning but to conserve milk she would pour one bowl and give us three spoons.

I guess we did better than some of our friends. Mother believed it was important that our family took vacation at least once every year. We kept within our tight budget by camping. Anyone that knows me will tell you I love to camp, but my mother's idea of sleeping under the stars was different than mine. We would pile into the car just before dark and find the nearest RV park. Once we pulled into our assigned spot we all knew our duties. Mother would begin grilling burgers. Chris would place a paper napkin for each of us to use when we ate on the concrete picnic table. Andy would wonder around the campsite and place random rocks in his mouth. I never asked why. I guessed that is what all three years olds did when they camped. I had the most important job. I took the pillows and blankets from the trunk and placed them across front and back seats of our car. I didn't know people slept in tents when they went camping until I went into the military. Imagine my embarrassment on my first bivwac when my drill sergeant kindly explained real men slept on the ground.

I had our beds just as I wanted them when I heard the first loud scream. My muscles tightened and my backbone felt fused as I forced my body to turn toward the noise. My brother, Chris, stood on the picnic table. He stomped his feet and pointed toward the ground. He screamed again.

Mother dropped the spatula she was holding to flip the burgers and ran to the aid of her son. Two steps put her beside the table and thirty inch vertical leap landed her beside Chris. She too pointed at the ground and she screamed "SNAKE!"

I glanced toward Andy who sat in the gravel at the rear of the car. He continued his mission of shoveling pebbles in his mouth as he calmly watched the craziness unfolding on the picnic table. He appeared largely undisturbed and uninterested in anything that may distract him from his task at hand.

"MOM" I yelled from the open door of the car where I stood. I wasn't sure what I should do.

Chris ran across the table and leaped to the ground at the furthest point from the snake. His miniature tennis shoes spat dust in the air as he ran from harm's way. The snake followed suit and chased after Chris. Its solid back body wiggled sideways as it pursued my brother. Chris ran in a large circle around our camp. His face was contorted in frozen horror as he lapped us.

The snake soon decided Chris was too big to eat or too much trouble to catch and slithered into the high grass.

Chris returned to the table panting. His tear streaked face matched another wet mark that had appeared on the front of his pants. Mother hugged him and ran her hands through his hair. She reassured him the snake would not return.

I walked to the table. My fear had transgressed to calm and then laughter at Chris' accident. Anger filled his eyes as I taunted him and called him Pissy Chrissie. Mother defused the taunting by explaining to me "I am going to have to wash Chris' pants and he is going to have to have something to wear. Give him your shorts, Scott."

"But MOM," I pleaded, "I'll be in my UNDERWEAR."

"Well, you should always be happy to help your brother and maybe you shouldn't have made fun of him." She told me "Besides nobody will see you here in the woods."

I silently did as I was told and stripped to my tighty whities. Chris stripped his soiled shorts and donned mine that were two sizes too large for him. He and I sat on the rough stone benches as Mother started for the public bathroom to rinse Chris' clothes. She stopped a few steps from the table and looked back at our sad expressions. She smiled and said "Aww, boys. This is just the first of many adventures to come. One day you will be telling YOUR kids about this…" She turned and continued on her mission.

Chris placed his forehead on the table and simply said "Oh I doubt it. I really, really doubt it."

9:03 AM - 23 Comments - 34 Kudos - Add Comment

Pictures: A Story of Words
Category: Friends

I have been an entrepreneur for a long time. Oddly enough earning a living keeps getting in the way. My first business partner is best known as Pictures, because we sold caricatures. I got to talk to all the babes and he had the honor of drawing them. It wasn't a bad way to work my way through high school. I got half the money and all the phone numbers. 

Well the sad part of this story is my very good friend experienced a great loss in the recent past. When I called to offer my support he told me what transpired.

Pic had heard the mice in his wall for the LAST time. He wasted no time going to the nearest national discount chain and bought enough rodent extermination products to add mice to endangered species list.

Pic arrived at his house armed to teeth and ready to turn the invasion. He carefully placed rodent bombs in each room. He revealed in the fact there was no way they would be able to outwit him.

The last bomb unleashed its smelly gas as he decided to retire to the yard for a few hours of yard work while his plan of home defense unfolded. He walked to his backyard and watched plumes of smoke fill his kitchen window as poison gas did its job.

His feeling of satisfaction grew as he worked with his hands. He pruned and clipped. He snipped and shaped. He took solace in how proud his wife would be when she saw the yard.

He reached a point that the brush had made quite a pile and decided the best plan of action would be to move them to the curb for pick up by the City.

Rack in hand he shuffled the debris. He jumped with surprise when a mouse ran from the leaves and stems laid before him. It ran straight for his house. Pic smiled and gave half a chuckle with the thought of the creature running toward certain death. The same feeling Alexander the Great must have experienced when he reached the far side of the Ottoman Empire washed over Pic.

Another rustle at his feet made Pic look down again. He was sure at least one more furry felon was hiding from him. He would have total victory.

Pic calmly propped his rack against the tree in the center of his backyard. He walked to his storage building and retrieved his spare can of fuel for his weed eater. He thought for a second about the smoke it would create because he had added oil to the gas to protect the performance of his yard tools. He shrugged off the concern as he basked in the glory of defeating his prey.

Pic felt a smile barely crease the edges of his mouth as he poured the flammable liquid on the pile of yard clippings. The grin grew as he lit the edge with a lighter from his pocket.

Pic took a few steps away and watched as flame grew. The fire licked, spat and crackled at the green mound. It began slowly to creep away from Pic at the far edge and then raced as it followed an invisible trail drawn from its original point to the rear door of Pic's house.

Pic's mind raced as he registered the smell of the rat repellant and watched his kitchen explode into flames through the window in the door of his kitchen. His face fell with the realization that the sound he heard was one trap after another exploded inside him home.   

He froze in total shock as he looked at his feet and watched a small, brown mouse run across his boot. The only thing he could hear was the sound of fire engines in the far distance.

7:40 AM - 25 Comments - 28 Kudos - Add Comment

GBE Cheating - A Day at the Dog Track
Category: Friends

Anyone who is reading my blog for the first time should know I have recently been taking part in the GBE or Group Blogging Effort. Basically a subject is suggested by the central writer and the participating bloggers interpret that subject in a blog. This week the subject is cheating.

You know it just sucks when you have a bad day at the tracks and my buddy, JB, knew exactly how that felt. He took a beating in West Memphis were the dogs seemed to be conspiring against him.

JB unloaded his pockets on the dresser and moved to the edge of the bed to remove his shoes. He sighed and contemplated how he would make-up today's losses before the bills were due at the end of the month. His mind was a thousand miles away when the sharp pain hit. WACK!! The sound echoed from the slap that had landed on the back of his neck. "WHY DID YOU DO THAT?" he screamed as he turned to face his wife.

She crossed her arms as she walked around the bed to stand directly in front of JB. She held a small piece of paper between her index and thumb. She stared at JB as he sat hypnotized by the paper and the sting that radiated from his neck. "It says DESTINY." She stated.

JB squinted at the paper but couldn't distinguish anything written on it. "Destiny is a dog at the track. I got a hot tip on a race."

She took a step closer to JB and landed a second slap solidly across his temple. JB rocked back on the bed. He stared at his wife through blurry eyes and asked "WHAT WAS THAT FOR?"

She recrossed her arms and replied "Your dog called the house just before you got home."

5:58 PM - 29 Comments - 44 Kudos - Add Comment

GBE Independence - What if?
Category: Dreams and the Supernatural

This is my entry for the latest GBE or Group Blog Experience. The GBE is a practice where a subject is suggested and each writer interprets the subject. This week's GBE subject is independence or possibly the absence. I am taking this topic in the direction of PERSONAL independence

My will and independence are defining characteristics of me. One day they may not…....

Gina stroked my hair as my head lay in her lap. The hustle of the traffic in the airport check in area around us was comforting to me on some level and I could feel myself drift to sleep.....

I woke on the plane. Panic gripped me as I realized I didn't remember getting on board. I felt a strong need to shower, but I was disoriented. The stewardess approached me with a smile. The idea that she looked like Oprah Winfrey fleeted through my mind. She scolded me without dropping the smile, "I know you got over on me. Don't go hiding again."....

I stared blankly, not comprehending why this flight attendant would know me, much less think I would be hiding from her. I scratched my side and wondered when I would be able to get that shower. ....

She led me to a small room. It had a bed and desk identical to so many I had seen in the thousands of hotels I have stayed. The room was long and narrow. It was well lit from the window at one end. I wondered "Why would this room be on an airplane?" as my hostess turned and left me standing in the door. ....

People began to mill past the door. Some would stop and kiss me on the cheek. Others would pat me on the shoulder. A few would hug me and give me their love. I didn't recognize one of them and the need to run, to flee, rose again. I repeatedly scanned the people as they passed. I tried to pick the faces of my children or my brothers from the throng. If they were there I didn't know it. Desperation held my heart in a vise grip. "Who are these people?" filled my mind.....

Slow realization told me I may never know their names. I was in a center for the elderly. My arteries were hardening just as my grandfather's had. My memory was failing me. I would never have the easy life of retirement on the sandy beach that I always wanted. Maybe I already had and didn't remember it. ....

I was scared. I was scared but I knew that I was in a safe place. I was scared but I knew I was not alone. I was scared but I knew I was surrounded by people that cared for me. I was scared because I knew that there was no independence for me. My life journey was near the end and I continued at the mercy of others for I could not do it myself. ....

I blinked away the tears that had begun to trickle down both cheeks and turned back to my room. I watched my feet as I shuffled to the bed. "Maybe a nap would be good" I told myself "Maybe I will wake and all of this will be gone."....

7:55 AM - 27 Comments - 36 Kudos - Add Comment

Supporting Small Business
Category: Friends

I have long been a believer that small business is the backbone of our economy and we should support it when we are able. Recently one of my friends in Lexington made me aware of a new endeavor in the area. Thanks Leah…I hope you don't mind I took the phone number from the bottom of yo…eh...the flyer.

10:18 AM - 18 Comments - 20 Kudos - Add Comment

GBE Reality - Food For Thought
Category: Friends

I have recently began to participate in the GBE or Group Blogging Experience. Basically the leader of the GBE gives a subject and bloggers interpret that subject in their writing. I am finding it challenging and a new way to exercise my creative ability, so this week I am writing on the GBE topic REALITY…

Reality. It can be a bitch. It can bite. It can slap you in the face. It can completely mess up a good delusion. Reality is the meanest mistress when it plays with your food…

JB has lived most of his life in Memphis. He has come to expect a "little attitude with those fries" when he eats fast food. Today he was rushed, but starving. Lunch could not come soon enough.

He pulled his pickup into line at the national chain of tex-mex mystery food. "I would like 3 tacos and a Dr Pepper" he shouted at the menu.

"We don't have no Dr Pepper" came a tinny voice from the small speaker mounted at the bottom of the sign.

'OK" JB considered "I'll take a Coke."

"We don't have no Coke" responded the speaker "Our machine is busted."

"Aw, forget the drink" JB said in frustration "I'll just take the food."

A silent moment passed and the voice instructed "That will be eight twenty-seven. Pull to the window."

JB dug through his pockets as he edged toward the window as the line slowly progressed. While straightening the wade of bills he has retrieved he thought "Eight dollars for a couple of tacos? That can't be right."

His turn at the window came. The glass slid to one side as a rotund woman pushed an extra large paper cup toward JB. He asked in shock "What's that?"

"It's your root beer." She said moving her eyes to stare accusingly at his.

"But I didn't want root beer." He said raising his hands defensively between him and the woman.

Her breathing became deep and ragged for a second as she seemed to contemplate throwing the drink in JB's window. She drew the cup from sight, slammed the window and disappeared into the depths of the restaurant.

JB sat patiently for a minute and when the worker showed no sign of reappearing he drove away.

He circled the building and crossed into the burger place that shared the parking lot. He went through the same steps as he had at the first place with a simple order of a number two and a large Coke. All went without event as he paid at the window, dropped the bag of greasy goodness beside him in the seat and harpooned his soda with a straw. The long, hard sip almost gagged him when he realized it wasn't a Coke. He chocked as he asked the burger lady "What's in this cup!?!"

"Root beer, sir" she smiled "Isn't that what you wanted?"

JB narrowed his eyes in an attempt to see any insincerity or gilded mirth in the attendant's face. He could find none and simply answered "Yes ma'am. I guess root beer is what I wanted. I just didn't seem to know it."

With an exhalation of breath and a feeling of defeat he pulled away from the window. For some reason he just didn't feel all that hungry anymore.

12:07 PM - 29 Comments - 36 Kudos - Add Comment

GBE- Dream
Category: Dreams and the Supernatural

Hmmmm…maybe I should better exemplify my feelings by saying HMMMMM…Bobbie introduced me today to GBE (Group Blogging Experience). It seems that GBE is a suggested topic by one and a blog about that topic by everyone that dares try to interpret that topic. It is kind of a Rorschach test for writers….so hmmmm….the topic today is dreams…Have you ever had a dream and KNEW you were dreaming? Yea, well I was there. It took me a second to realize why J-Mumbly was sitting on a pony in my room. He knew he wasn't allowed in my room. Wait! I'm over forty years old. J-Mumbly isn't allowed in my HOUSE. Just kidding. He can come over on holidays.

"Dude!" he says from the back of his mount as he pushes his Napoleon style hat back. "Did you see what is happening outside!?!"

I opened the front door and looked across my front yard while I thought "How did I get to the front of the house?" I gazed at the parade that filled the street. Each member of the band, every clown and baton twirler, every rider on a float was a string. YES, A STRING! They walked and talked and made great music.

I walked from my home and along the concrete path that leads to the curb. I stopped short when I noticed one string sitting by itself in the curbside grass. Unlike the others it was tied in the center and ends of it were ruffled. I got the feeling it was very sad, so I sat beside it.  "What's wrong?" I asked as a little of the sadness swept over me "Weren't you asked to be in the string parade?"
It looked solemnly at me and simply said, "No, I'm frayed knot."

8:07 PM - 44 Comments - 44 Kudos - Add Comment

Just Another Story - Wow Wow
Category: Friends

I have started many blogs and some you may see later. You may understand better why J-Mumbly owns a bug on a stick or why Uncle Fuzzy is just the kind of guy you really want to know.

The point of writing tonight comes with a point. OK, so I forgot the point, so I'll tell you a story about Wow Wow…

Fun Land was the place to be when I was in high school. It really had very little to do with having all of the coolest games like Tetris and Asteroids. It was a success because of the old marketing adage held true. It had location, location, location. You see, Fun Land was at one end of the strip that everyone cruised. A slow trip between McDonald's and Fun Land would let you know who was out, who was grounded and where to find the next party.

As every other high school in the country for centuries past ours had cliques. You could pick the heads from the jocks and the preps from the nerds. My friends all rode bikes. Don't get excited. We weren't all leather chaps and tattoos. We rode BMX bikes. I actually did own a motorcycle and a car, but my preferred mode of travel was two wheels and no motor.

Steve O was right there for every minute of it. We drank beer on top of the water tower. We snuck in the dorms at Lambuth and lied to the girls about our age. We dedicated ourselves to making the life of "Radar" Carmichael, the assistant principal, as difficult as possible. Steve O was there.

Steve O was also there when we all stood on the sidewalk in front of Fun Land. Cars drove in a slow procession past us. It was the perfect position to be to talk to kids on foot or in cars. We talked and joked and held court on all that pasted. Of course we paid particular attention to the girls.

Rest of us would find a witty comment to relay what we thought about the passing female. It could be "Man, she is rad" or "I am trippin' over that cutie". Steve O always knew exactly what to say when he saw a hottie. With a measured look at the total package he would simply say "Wow." Seconds later he would see another and again proclaim "Wow". Then when a truly perfect female specimen wandered close he would surmise with "Wow".

We were fifteen or sixteen and our futures had barely begun to unfold, but one thing remained. Steve O became well known for his one word answer to all things feminine and today he is still my very good friend, Wow Wow.

2:19 PM - 27 Comments - 31 Kudos - Add Comment

The Claw Says
Category: Friends

I am a believer that you get grab a glint of wisdom almost anywhere, even in a club…..

Saturday night I went to meet a business contact. He has the expressed habit of only wanting to meet after 11 p.m. at his place.

 I conceded and made my way past the front door of the club, through the mass of gyrating lithe, young bodies and past the door to the rear of the building. It was like walking through a world made of light and sex. Everything was in flux, seeming to touch and not touch at the same time. As I pushed through the door that took me from the fantasy world of drink and mirth to stark unpainted walls stacked with cases of beer and the smell of ammonia mixed with wet wood.

"Hey man" I said as I entered the closet sized office of my buddy, Jerry. A sausage sized hand shot into the air to signal me to be quiet. He spun around and hit the intercom button on a phone beside him. He spoke before the person on the other end could answer "How much Landshark have you sold?"  I heard the bartender on the other end of the line take a breath but not get a chance to speak before my friend said "Not enough. Sell it now."

He spun in his chair to face me but spoke to an incredibly beautiful brunette that stood behind me. Her perfect pouty lips pursed as she stood with her hands on her hips. Her barely clad body could have graced any month of Playboy Magazine. My compatriot simply said "Did you get a beer at Bar 3?" She shook her head in affirmation. "You just got that bartender FIRED!" he said leaning forward a little in his chair. The sound echoed from the walls of office.

Just as the little cutie looked as she was going to cry he smiled and told her "It's all cool. I was kidding. Go get yourself another beer. Just don't try to hide it from me."

I dropped into an empty chair beside him and another person appeared in the door. The barback who filled that void appeared to be the love child of Brad Pitt and Justin Timberlake. He carried three shots, one of which was a chilled shot of Three Olives Vodka. The vodka was handed to me. I wiped my face and stated "I'm not drinking tonight."

"You can't let it go to waste. Just one." Smiled my friend.

"To famous last words." I toasted and we all drank.

Three or maybe four or maybe five "just one mores" later I am told "I have to go see what is happening out front. Let's go." Feeling kind of warm and fuzzy I followed without comment.

As we retraced my original steps through Shangri La I felt like I was escorting Bill Clinton. If his hands weren't raised in the air to wave at someone that was yelling his name from a distance, they were showing gratitude to...uh…guests in short skirts.

After what seemed like a week of walking we stepped through the front doors. The flood of the crowd disappeared through a door in a loosely singular filed line as we stood to the side.

During a moment of relative calm when no one was directly trying to get his attention I asked "So how does it feel to be a celebrity?"

"Well," he answered with sober look directly at me "Popularity in the bar business is like eating ice cream in the summertime."

I look quizzically as he continued "Enjoy it while it last and don't be afraid to use your tongue when you see a good place to lick. Most importantly remember in the end you'll be holding your own stick, so don't make a mess you aren't willing to clean up."

"Interesting" I said smiling "on that note I have to get out of here."

"Have a good night," he told me as he slapped me on the shoulder in camaraderie as I turned to leave "I'll see you later."

12:37 PM - 22 Comments - 22 Kudos - Add Comment

Kansas Kinda New Year
Category: Friends

So here's the thing…DON'T TOUCH IT. Yep, I said it! I'm a good boy. Don't be touchin' the package. I gotta bunch of friend-girls but since Kelly Nicole only one person (me) gets to touch the package. LOL OK it is funny, but its true. ..

By the way I have been approached by several people in public in the past week or so to see how I am doing and why I haven't blogged. It is all cool. Thanks for asking.

Anyway I wanted to tell you about by buddy, Alex. He is from Kansas and I am just guessing nobody ever gets excited in Kansas, 'cause like everyone else I know from Kansas his feathers just never seemed to ruffle. The fact the story I have isn't about Alex at all, but another… Kanasian…uh…Kanzian…Kansasan…Kansite…you know what I mean.

I really enjoyed living in Colorado Springs, but I jumped at the chance when Bradford and Smith asked if I wanted to blow town for New Year's Eve.  "Guess what?" I replied "I know this chic in Kansas City. Let's go there!"

The enthusiasm began to wane when we discovered at 11:30 that night we were still an hours from our destination. The need to water the weeds contributed to our decision to take the next exit we saw.

The lights of a small town lit the side of the interstate as we approached our rest stop and in good conscious we agreed not to pee on the roadside but find a proper restroom. We found little more proof of life after circling the town square than working street lights until Bradford screamed from the backseat "Look! There are two people sitting on the hood of a car at that gas station."

"Let's see if they can give us directions." I suggested from the passenger seat.

Smith pulled our car beside theirs as I rolled down the window. "Hey man. Where's the party?" I asked in a joking tone.

The two people were obviously a couple enjoying some alone time, but the guy was friendly enough when he withdrew from the embrace of the girl and answered "There is a kickass party two blocks north and two blocks east. You guys from around here?"

I answered to the negative and explained our plight.

He seemed to visibly relax and even become more cheerful when he said "Everyone in town has been invited to the party. You can't miss it. Just walk right in."

My companions and I thanked him and then headed toward our new destination. We had 5 minutes before the stroke of midnight and we wouldn't be spending it in the car. It was good news.

The house was easy to find as every person in town did indeed seem to be at the party. People milled on the sidewalk, the yard and the front porch of a beautiful three story Victorian house. A tall, black iron fence enclosed the yard and bright lights from the interior revealed the silhouettes of many more guests.

We boldly exited our vehicle and entered the soirée. The three of us dropped a casual "hello" and "happy New Year" to those that looked our way. We were each handed a glass of champagne as we entered the front door by a gentleman that was obviously on staff. The countdown had just begun and the house echoed loudly as the guests smiled and counted the last ten seconds until the official New Year. We stood together and added our voices.  Choruses of "Old Anzine" filled the house with laughter and cheer. The feeling was almost surreal.

Bradford drained his glass and dashed into the crowd in search of a bathroom. Smith slowly sipped his and found the wandering eye of a cute brunette a few feet away. I dove deeper into the house to see what else was here.

On the second floor a small bar on casters sat near double doors that led to a balcony. I had the bartender mix me a Charter and Coke, and then explored the view from the overlook. I looked through tree limbs as thick as my leg that intertwined into an impossible maze. The other side of the trees soft twinkling lights of the city blinked in a light show just for the viewer. It was truly remarkable.

"Excuse me." Came a voice from the opposite direction that I had been gazing.

I turned to face a blonde, athletic man approximately the same age as me.
"Hi" I answered and extended my hand "I'm Scott."

"Mike" was his answer as he shook my hand "This is my dad's house. Would you mind telling me who you are here with?"

I released his hand and dropped my head in embarrassment and told him "My two buddies and I are headed to Kansas City but we were running out of time before the end of New Year's Eve. We kinda found your party by accident." I raised my view slowly in expectation to be tossed from the party by the host. I was ready to leave quietly.

Mike began laughing. In fact he didn't quit laughing for what felt like a long time. Finally he asked "So you REALLY don't know where you are?"

"No" I answered, puzzled.
"My dad," Mike said "is the mayor. You couldn't have crashed a better party in 100 miles."

His approach to the whole subject had relaxed my apprehension, so I responded "Great! How would you like to celebrate with a shot?"

Mike agreed. Our bartender mixed us some unusual concoctions and we toasted to the next year being full of adventures as good as this one.

By one o'clock the party had began to wane. Mike and I were rather glassy eyed as he suggested I find my buddies and follow him to the country club.

We left the mayor's mansion and followed Mike's sporty, little Benz into the country. Well away from town in the middle of hundreds of acres of open fields we stopped at a little brick building that was very nondescript from the exterior but surrounded by many cars in a gravel parking lot. We entered to find yet another party that carried us to daybreak.

Bleary eyed and tired, my travel companions and I thanked Mike for his hospitality and drove into the rising sun toward Kansas City.

11:21 AM - 19 Comments - 16 Kudos - Add Comment

A NEw Beginning
Category: Friends

Below is a blog posted by my friend, Shae. I reposted because it really shows the depth of friendship and how we veiw each other in my small little world. Kudos to my friend, Shae

Sp

Tuesday, May 13, 2008

9:45 AM - 15 Comments - 16 Kudos - Add Comment