Justa Rollin’ Right Along


The Funniest Thing That Happened in my Life - #2

Saturday, November 29th, 2008



He should have never bought that gun.

You know, for the past few days, I have been agonizing over how I am going to make this story good. On the surface, it seems like a simple task, but the more I have been thinking about it, trying to make someone smile through is a challenging feat. I knew I had to start soon because I had already committed to it a few days ago. I’m not sure who wants to see this story on my more, you or me.

Recently, my Aunt, who is a , told me that she really gets a kick out of what I jot down here. This means an awful lot to me because she is in the . Truthfully, I have absolutely no training at all when it comes to expressing myself through text and it’s a little intimidating knowing that someone with years of successful stories behind her is on the other side of the screen. I mean sure, I attended class back in high school and , but I’m not sure I retained anything. When the day finally came where I wanted to get something off my chest, I started to learn.

I asked her to give me feedback if she saw a glaring error. Actually, I would appreciate feedback if I make a small mistake, like using “it’s” instead of “its.” What would be great is if she let me behind the scenes regarding strategy. How do I start a story off? What should be the first line? Where should I begin the crescendo, like in or a verbal story? These are all things that can make or break what I, or anyone else, writes.

As you may have noticed, some of my are better than others.

Sometimes, an entry comes out nicely when I least expect it, like my recent post, “Snowboarding Is Back.” I really just wanted to get something down quickly, but after I started getting into it, I got more and more motivated.

Sometimes entries don’t come out so nicely. I think I had high hopes for my, “The Rules Of Blogging” post, but I was a little perturbed when I sat down to write that, so it didn’t come out as planned. I actually had to delete an entire paragraph from that one because I thought it came across mildly abrasive.

When I think about what is going to make or break a post, like trying to figure out the answers to those questions I asked above, I think it’s entirely up to me. If I took lessons from someone, the story wouldn’t be entirely mine and it might seem “forced.” It depends on how I feel right at that point of what I am doing.

My Aunt tells me that she enjoys the details. I enjoy them. If I can express to someone how all those little green blades of grass feel when they are softly tickling my toes, I think that’s a success. Otherwise, we have a bland story, and no one wants that.

Just a few minutes ago, I was standing in the trying to raise my body . As the water got hotter and hotter, I began thinking. I guess the water got my brain moving. I had so many thoughts running through my head about just how I would explain the beginning of this post. So many thoughts were good, although I’m not sure I just spent the past fifteen minutes expressing any of them. I forget so easily. If I could figure out a way to lay my thoughts out faster, I might be on to something, until then, this is what we get.

So it begins…

When I graduated , I had zero dollars. I was broke. I’m not sure I was in a position to do anything with my life other than to live at my parent’s and find a job. At least I would have had someplace to sleep and I would be fed. Looking back, I think that might have been a good idea, but that really wouldn’t have put me where I am today. I took the challenging path, which is the one I usually end up taking.

In the past few years, I have had more conversations about how other people live their lives than I care to admit. “If I did it, then so should you,” is how I would usually end a conversation. I probably got that line of thinking from my father. It frustrates me when I see people not working to their potential. I’m not sure why, because seriously, it’s none of my . It’s just that when I think back on all the adventures I have had through life, I guess I want others to share in those kinds of adventures too. If they are taking the easy way out, then they are missing many of the challenges and rewards that life has to offer. When you take the hard path and accomplish something, you tend to realize it once it’s done. That, my friends, is a good feeling.

A few months before , my friend and I decided to look for a place to live. We had been hearing many good things about Atlanta, Georgia for a while and decided to hop in the for a trip down . I actually had a professor who used to live in that city, so I would pick his brain during our student/teacher meetings. I am sure that time could have been better spent (at the rate I was going), but now I’m not so sure. What really struck me was his recollection of Lake Lanier, North of Atlanta. He said it was very active, very deep and very cool. I have always wanted to live near a lake, so hearing this only made me all the more excited for our trip.

is a fun guy to travel with. He can be trusted behind the wheel and the conversation is good. We seem to be on the same page a lot, which makes for a good amount of agreement when it comes to really trying to analyzing something, such as a new place to live. If you had been sitting there, listening to us that first night in Atlanta, you would have heard a, sort of, agreement fight. We were so involved in what we were agreeing on, it may have been viewed as an argument. It’s to engage in and I’m sure it’s even more to watch.

Rob at age 14 (I think)

at age 14 (I think)

I remember a little something about our first drive to the town nicknamed, “Hotlanta.” We were cruising down one of ’s most scenic , . was behind the wheel of his CRX and I was in the passenger seat, trying to get some sleep with one eye open. I generally don’t trust anyone behind the wheel besides myself, but as I said above, is okay, hence, only one eye being open.

The was already a mess. For some reason, it is impossible to take a trip that lasts more than three hours without the entire being filled with garbage. This is a phenomenon I will never understand.

I am not sure what began the exchange, but when I opened the other eye, I peered over to see giving someone in a bright blue pickup truck next to us the one finger salute. I got all excited and told to the crap. I said, “ man, these people aren’t like us. If they somehow get the cops down here to pull us over, they are going to tear our Yankee asses out of this and no one will ever see us again.” Of course, is only a few miles past the Mason-Dixon Line and I was at a very ignorant point in my life. tried to explain that the pickup truck had him off and the finger was warranted, but I wasn’t having any of it. All I wanted was to get to Atlanta in one piece so I could make a decision that would affect me for at least the next year of my life.

We drove for a while longer and eventually forgot about the whole exchange. The conversation was fluid, but we both agreed that it was time to pull over, get some and browse the service station aisles for its best and healthiest food. After all, we were already at the bottom of and had been for a good long time.

We found an exit that had a huge “” sign next to the exit ramp. We pulled off the highway and made a right. We quickly made another right into the station.

While was creeping along, trying to figure out the best place to fill up, something made me glance out the back window. A few moments after I did, I managed to force out an, “Uh oh.” Um, yeah, you guessed it, a bright blue pickup truck was pulling in right after us. Mind you, this was like an hour after we had seen our last bright blue pickup truck.

We stopped in front of the pump.

I saw stiffen up when the pickup truck guy start towards the . I had no idea what was about to take place, but I was ready to pounce. I was going to let this good ol’ boy know what it felt like to get his ass whooped by a young and limber red headed Yankee.

As he approached the , the pickup truck dude finally said, “What are you doin’, showin’ me your age?” to which replied, “I don’t know what you are talking about.” The guy responded, “Don’t act like it never happened. I saw you back there giving me the finger.” came back with a swift and forceful, “I didn’t give you the finger, that would be road rage.”

Okay, after I realized the pickup truck guy wasn’t going to try to tear either of us out of the , I let my guard down and loosened my grip on the fist of death. There would be no altercation today. The gentleman, who actually ended up to be quite pleasant, walked away with another story to tell his friends and we filled up the tank, did our thing, and continued on, headed .

We made it to Atlanta, and after a few days of around, we decided against moving there after . We thought the was oriented too much around . Everyone seemed to be working all the time. , , , , . That went against the grain of Jay and , who honestly weren’t all that much into the whole thing. We left and headed up to Nashville, Tennessee. Now, that’s a story for another time.

A few weeks later and after hanging out up North for a while, I made the call. I said, “, let’s move down to Atlanta. What the heck. It would be something new and if we don’t like it, we won’t stay past the first year’s lease.” He agreed and we decided to move on down after I came back from in Binghamton.

helped me out a lot those first few months. As I already mentioned, I had no money. The complex we lived in had a pretty sweet deal…either take the first month’s rent for free, or spread a discount across all twelve months of the lease. Since I moved down about a month earlier than , I said that we should take the first month free, and then we would split the remaining ones after I get a job.

Rob, Pete and Jay in Atlanta

, Pete and Jay in Atlanta

The job didn’t happen until a few months into our little adventure. We took the first month’s rent for free and then covered the next month. Right at the end of that month, I finally got a job and started paying back. He had payed for more than just rent. He payed for the groceries, the utilities and everything else. You know, he didn’t even make a peep about it either, perhaps that’s why I never made a fuss about what happened next.

One day, decided that it would be a good idea to buy a .22 caliber rifle. That’s right, a rifle. Now, this wasn’t a big, powerful gun, it was basically a step up from a BB gun, but still, it could do some damage. walked into Wal-Mart with a wallet and walked out of Wal-Mart with a wallet and a gun. It seems like Georgia actually encourages this kind of stuff.

There was one thing I knew for sure; should, in absolutely no way, own a gun. He has a little with guns that I will tell you about right now, in numerical order.

1. One day while twirling my BB gun in the front yard, shot the out neighbor’s window.
2. One day, while shooting targets with my BB gun in the backyard, missed the and the BB ricochet about three times and hit me in the temple.
3. One day, while standing at the end of the twirling my BB gun, blew out the back window of our friend’s , while it was down the road.

The fact that owned this gun made me nervous. Luckily, neither of us ever saw it again in Atlanta after the day he bought it. He must have put it in his closet for protection or something.

I will move ahead about a year to get this party started.

After our Atlanta experience, we decided to move back up North. I decided to stay at ’s for a month or so, before moving back to Binghamton for grad school. ended up back at his ’ for a short stay before renting a down in town.

owned about 40 acres of land up in Oneonta, NY. We would all visit about once a month to see what he was up to. When we arrived, was usually straddling some earth moving machine in an effort to either create a road, a dirt bike track or a . Every time we were there, was working on some project. Over the years, had collected quite the array of machinery to assist him in his effort to transform his 40 acres into the land of his dreams.

was quite dedicated and was quite serious.

There was one particular visit I remember well. Both and I were on slate for a weekend visit to “the farm.” Since I was already there, I don’t think it qualified as a “visit” for me. For , the three hour drive definitely made him a visitor.

During the few weeks I lived at ’s, I witnessed him acquire a few neat little machines. These were basically farm type things and I really don’t know what some of them were used for. I know one spread around manure. It was a cool trailer type machine that, when towed, spread cow crap all over the fields for various reasons, such as fertilizing the grass and, well, getting rid of the manure.

Another piece of equipment acquired while I was there was an old dump truck. It must have been from the 60s or 70s. It was old and rusty. This was his pride and joy.

I remember the day he rolled in the with it. I took one look and said, “What the hell are you going to do with that? Does it run?” He replied, “Of course it runs. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to get a good running truck like this around here for so cheap?” He looked so excited and I didn’t want to burst his bubble, so I just kind of shook my head and walked away.

Well, decided it was worth talking about, so he chased me. He explained that this truck was going to save him countless hours of time. Instead of moving dirt around with the machines, now he could fill up the dump body of the truck and haul the dirt where ever he wanted. His eyes were so bright when he told me about what this truck could do, he almost glowed. I hadn’t realized it, but he had been looking for a truck like this for some time. They were so scarce because none of the in the area ever let them go. They were all using them for their own purposes.

Okay, if it was important to him, it was important to me. I wouldn’t make fun of it.

wasn’t there for this conversation. had no idea how much loved that truck. showed up and wanted to drink and ride dirt bikes, of which we were both only too happy to oblige.

We had a good time the night after arrived. We ate and drank and told stories of all the crazy stuff we used to do. showed us the shiny new rifle he recently bought, but hadn’t fired yet. Living on a farm in the middle of no where, I guess one needs a huge rifle that uses 3 1/2 bullets. I saw them and they could probably penetrate tank armor. was pretty excited about this and said he was going to see how it shot the next day.

It just so happens that decided to bring his gun too. Sure, it wasn’t nearly as powerful as ’s new bazooka, but it would be fine during practice. I just had to be sure the stay the hell away from when he was firing this thing. At the time, I thought it wasn’t a bad idea to bring that gun up to ’s, since it was on a in Oneonta, NY. There was virtually no one for miles.

You know, come to think of it, at no point that night did ever express to the importance of his new truck.

We woke up the next morning. As usual, was up first, looking to get a jump on the day. He was always so damn chipper when he was up there, it was annoying. I wanted my beauty sleep, but I guess I was kind of excited too. After all, this was the day we were going to see two guns that had never been fired before, fired.

We took showers and walked downstairs, but couldn’t find . We strolled around for a while, got some coffee and decided to sit on the couch and talk. The was silent and kind of boring, but we didn’t really want to get into doing farm chores…we would leave those for . We were there to have fun.

After a few minutes of some pretty lazy conversation, we were shaken by a huge “BA BOOOOM!!!” Our eyes shot wide open and poor almost fell off the couch. I think my heart skipped a beat when I heard that enormously loud . I looked at and looked at me. We both thought we were under attack. started to get to his feet, when another “BA BOOOOM!!!” knocked him back on the couch. I felt so bad because he had no idea what the heck was going on. Neither of us did.

We got to our feet and raced to the back window, the one overlooking the mountainside. There, we saw standing and smiling with a grin so wide it went from ear to ear. He was standing there with his huge new rifle in his hand and a new wake up call. He was staring straight at us and obviously knew he was going to scare the heck out of us. I’m not sure if he was so happy because he scared us or that he mutilated whatever it was that he just shot.

Craig's back porch

's back

Hillside in Oneonta, NY

in Oneonta, NY

I just stood there staring out the window, frozen, when I saw whiz past me and run down the back stairs. Oh no, he had his gun too. I guess I had been in a trance longer than I thought because had actually run upstairs to grab his gun and bullets, got his sneakers on and made it outside before I even knew what was going on.

I quickly pulled my sneakers on and tightened up the laces nice and snug. I flew outside to meet standing a good distance in back of . was setting up for another shot and we didn’t want to be anywhere near him when we heard the…”BA BOOOOM!!!” again. Yeah, that was it, he took another shot.

We were both standing there next to each other when asked, “What in the world is that?” He was looking at ’s new truck. I said, “Oh, don’t ask. That’s ’s new truck. Like he needs another hunk of junk around here.” said, “Seriously.” and began down to , who was filling his rifle up with another bullet.

I remember standing there when I saw stop about half way between and me. He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a bunch of bullets. He took the clip out of his gun and filled it with the bullets he just pulled out of the pocket.

At that point, things started to move in slow motion…very slow motion.

When woke up early in the morning, he walked down to the new truck and placed a shooting on the very rearmost, highest tip of the wooden boards used as sides to the dump body. The main dump body was steel, but there were two 2×10s on each side of the bed to hold more material. This was placed neatly on the uppermost corner, far out of reach of the rest of the truck. It was almost invisible from where was standing.

When shot his gun, the bullet was so powerful and so fast, it simply sliced through the paper and splintered the . The bullet easily exited the backside of the board. It was almost like there was no damage from the small missiles at all. hit the three times and the board was still clearly intact.

had loaded his gun and had loaded his gun.

No one ever told that there was a on the back of the truck.

set up to take another shot when we both heard, “PAP PAP PAP PAP PAP.” It was ’s gun going off. I think liked it because now was getting into the mix. was standing there like he was a hitman taking down a rival gang.

“BA BOOOOM!!!” again. made another shot. “PAP PAP PAP PAP…” kept firing. I think his clip held 20 bullets and he had emptied them all. “BA BOOOOM!!!” had fired his last bullet. What a morning it was.

I stood there watching the whole thing from behind them both. What struck me as odd was the angle of ’s gun. It wasn’t lined up with the and it kept moving from side to side. ’s, on the other hand, stayed straight and steady, like it was in the hands of a trained marksman.

I stood there in disbelief. My mouth parted slightly and hung open as I realized what had just happened. The corners of my mouth began to curl upward. I started toward both and when I overheard them congratulating themselves for the massive amount of firepower they had just displayed. I just kept on , one foot in front of the other.

When I reached them, the three of us started down to the truck together. We were quiet during this time and for some strange reason, no one said a word. The silence was deafening. All we heard was the crunching of the dried dirt beneath out feet.

We had about 100 feet to walk in total and about 50 feet were left. When we reached 20 feet, we all heard a “HISSSSSSSS.”

’s head quickly snapped over to look at when he belted out, “ROBERT, WHAT DID YOU DO???”

I felt a tear forming in the outside corner of my right eye. My upper lip began to tremble in anticipation of the discovery we were about to make. My feet started shifting in my shoes.

A few steps closer and the hiss got louder.

That’s when all three of us simultaneously saw bullet holes peppered out over the entire side of ’s new truck…his pride and joy…his saviour of countless hours of hard labor.

I began making quiet screaming noises inside my tightly clamped mouth. My eyes were only half way open and my forehead has scrunched up more than it had ever been. At this point, tears were fully formed and rolling down my cheeks. I really tried to hold it in.

As we got closer, we found that the tire was punctured, the was shattered, the side of the truck had about 10 bullet holes in it and the front fender was hit multiple times. There were no bullet holes anywhere near the at the back of the truck.

I turned around and began back up the hill towards the . looked over at and started yelling at him. I finally let a breath out and nearly broke down in the middle of the field. I looked back to find that they had popped the hood of the truck open. had shot the fender, which sheltered the . Apparently, ’s bullets made their way through the distributor cap, the and the valve covers. The truck was unusable.

I kept up the hill and heard the yelling get louder. It was like a cartoon. A few more quick glances and it felt like someone slipped peyote in my morning drink. I was full fledged balling at this point. All I could do was walk away and dream of brighter days ahead.

I love . I love him to death. The gifts he has bestowed upon me are immeasurable. I am not sure he will ever know the joy he has brought to my life.

This, my friends, was the second that has ever happened in my life and I enjoyed sharing it with you very much.

Thank you.

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Man On Motorcycle Crashes

Tuesday, September 23rd, 2008



I was on the way back from this afternoon, when I approached some commotion. As I pulled up a little further, I noticed a on the side of the road, kind of crumpled up. It was laying on its side.

On the other side of the road, I saw a few people sitting next to a bald guy talking to him. He seemed to be wearing riding clothing. I came to the conclusion that either he hit a or a hit him. There was a station right in the middle of the scene. I am just glad he was ok.

What strikes me as odd about the state of is that there is no . From what I have observed so far, about 1% of riders here actually wear .

The here states that if you are a motorcyclist, 17 years old or younger, you have to wear a . If you are , 15 years old or younger, you have to wear a . I guess they put the lives of older individuals in their own hands. I suppose that’s ok.

The whole thing is weird because in , the pretty much states you have to wrap yourself in bubble wrap every time you leave your , no matter what you are doing. Seeing people fly by on the highway at 80mph with just sunglasses on is a little unnerving.

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New Bose Companion® 2 Series II Multimedia Computer Speakers

Wednesday, June 25th, 2008



Boy, that title is pretty long.

Yesterday, Laura and I went shopping. We first went up to in Enfield, . I got a bunch of stuff, most of which I can hardly remember right now. I am sure I’ll write about it when I start using it.

Then, we went to and got some stuff. After that, we went to for . Just to let you know, in Enfield has a station for members. around here is $4.39 per gallon. I paid $4.05 yesterday at the station. It averages about 30 cents less per gallon than regular stations.

Back to . While there, I picked up some bookshelf speakers that I am going to use for the new downstairs. I also picked up some new speakers. The speakers I was using up until yesterday were and getting pretty old. I gave them to Laura as a hand-me-down. I got a hand-me-up to the new Bose Companion® 2 Series II Multimedia Speakers.

When I was looking at them in the store, I kept asking the guy (kid) if they had an in them. I was worried that they might be like those cheap speakers you get with a new . You should probably have someone standing next to you hitting two pans together than using those speakers. Man, if I had a nickle for every pair of them I threw away.

He never gave me an answer. He just kept saying that these were the best brand they had in the store. Since I never quite got an answer out of him, I just bought them and decided that I would return them if they were horrible.

I got home and hooked them up. Right after that, I hooked up the Altec Lansings to Laura’s , which made her very happy. Now she can pump the bass. Back to my speakers. I turned on Media Player and was quite impressed. All that stuff Bose says about themselves is pretty true. The speakers are very clear and I can now hear sounds I never heard out of my old speakers. It’s pretty amazing what they can do with half the size and weight of something.

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The Funniest Thing That Happened in my Life - #1

Saturday, November 10th, 2007



Oh yeah. Here it is…the moment you have all been waiting for…the that ever happened in my life - #1.

What happened to number 3 and 2? Well, as you can clearly see, I have had a little trouble with motivation. I thought I would jump to number one and then follow up with the others later. Trust me, they are almost as .

You know the times when you just and ? If it’s during dinner, you usually milk out of your nose. Yeah, I remember those times. They don’t roll around that often anymore, but when they do, they feel really good. If you get a stomach ache, even better.

owns a tree service. He has probably run it for fifteen years. One of the main problems he has is finding good employees. Things are smoothing out now, but locating good workers has always been a tough hunt.

Early on, it was even harder. Sometimes a customer would call up and want a job done. , being eager to please and equally as eager to make money, sometimes had some tough choices to make. Should he hire a full time professional, or…err…just get the job done. That’s where and I came into play. Can you guess which choice we were? Yeah, we would bust on the scene and clean .

Oh, how many times we have heard, “I will never the two of you together again in my life.” Even that statement made me chuckle because I knew I would be standing in his at 7AM the next morning, smelling the burn, while his truck warmed up. In a few minutes would walk out of the and ask, “Where’s Robert?” I would say, “I don’t know.” “He’s in bed, that’s where he is. Let’s go get him,” would say. I always knew was awake and just running late, but I liked to make waves. For some twisted reason, I always got a kick out of watching Robert get yelled at by . was always yelling and was always trying to explain his way out of it. I really wish you could meet these two guys.

This particular morning was a very nice one. It was summertime and it was a perfect day to …warm enough in the morning, but cool enough not to sweat all that much. We had a small job to do in before lunch and then another one across from one of ’s many reservoirs after.

There we were, sitting in ’s , honking the horn. “This guy, I swear,” said. “What’s up with Robert, anyway?” I was sitting there thinking to myself, “Why do you call him Robert?” A few moments passed and flew out of the basement door and ran towards the truck. couldn’t stay mad at for too long. I’m not sure anyone can. I hopped out of the truck to give the middle seat. He never complained because he knew how much I liked to sit near the window. put the truck in reverse and we started heading toward Sunoco, down in town, for breakfast.

always bought. He probably still does today. That’s just the way he rolls. I could win the lotto and would still grab the check. This always happened, except for one time when , Laura and I were in Vermont. informed me that I was paying for dinner while he was in the middle of ordering another main course. He and Laura were drunk. She was trying to her pork chop, when it flung on the floor (carpet). leaned over and picked it up. He put it on his plate and proceeded to eat it. That is another story for another time.

As usual, and I were standing at the counter ordering our bacon, egg and cheese sandwiches. This guy at Sunoco always made the best sandwiches. This, of course, was before the time when the guy handed and sandwich and informed him that the were “a little gooey.” didn’t like that very much and never ordered another sandwich from that station again. This morning was different. We ordered our sandwiches while filled the tanks of the truck and chipper with fuel. What’s wrong with this picture…we order breakfast that will pay for while he works…

Anyway, we hopped in the truck and started to eat. We slowly made a left turn out of the parking lot and headed down the road towards town. always said he didn’t want a sandwich, but continuously asked for a bite of his. This was during the era of “Mustache ” and one of the other reasons I liked to sit near the window. would hand his sandwich and I would watch take a big, wet bite out of it and hand it back to . I always watched look at the sandwich…inspecting it to see if there were any mustache hairs in it. Poor ’s stomach is easily turned and I’m sure this would’ve been it for him.

I don’t remember the first job all that much. We probably did our thing and got in a fight. That was typical. would scold us in the truck and express the importance of not yelling at any passing cars or people while there was a huge sign with his name and phone number on the side of it. I guess he was right. We would go eat lunch at some deli and take a nap for a few minutes. The hardest thing was always trying to get up from laying on the ground under some on the deli’s . I always dreaded what job was next.

I used to hate the days with two jobs. I wanted to go to one, get it done and leave. I wanted to go home, take a cool and then walk out in the road a few minutes later in my nice, clean jeans and no shirt. would usually stumble out of his a little while later and we would discuss current events. ? I am not sure we would see again until the next morning.

We pulled straight in the of the customer’s , stopped and put the truck in reverse. We backed out to park on the side of the road.

I remember the job well. The was big and beautiful…typical Northern . It was white with some stone . The was a straight incline, aimed directly at the . There was a large in the front yard and across the street was a . Along the road was a row of tall pines. That was our job…to remove some of the . I am not sure why. Perhaps they were too tall? Blocking the view? Who knows… Yet, we were there to get the job done.

We worked for a few hours until the hard part of the job was completed. I really think we worked well during that portion of the day. There were no incidents. would the brush from the tree while and I would drag each branch to feed it to the chipper. It was grunt …that was part of the problem with finding good employees.

When the big stuff was done, it was always time to clean up. This is what separates the men from the boys. Some companies come to your , make a mess and leave it there. Real companies leave your place the way they found it, or better. We were a real company.

There were usually some we would use to clean up a …rakes, a big barrel for sticks and a blower. You know the kind of blower I am talking about…it straps to your back and you hold the tube in your right hand and walk around like a tornado. They are pretty fun to operate.

and I would usually race to get to the blower. Whoever got to it first was the lucky one because they could just walk around blowing things off, while acting like some sort of a supervisor. The unlucky one would get stuck raking and filling that awful barrel with sticks and . The heavy barrel had to be emptied in the back of the truck multiple times, which really sucked.

This particular day, I made it to the blower first. Yes, I was the lucky one. grudgingly grabbed the rake and barrel. We worked for about fifteen minutes. There wasn’t all too much to rake up, because the trees were right off the road. This put in a good mood. I just walked around the whole time, happy as a woodpecker, blowing off the and road. We were both eyeing one another, looking for a cue that our clean-up job was good enough.

One of the most about tree is dust on your clothes and skin. The dust would get on you and make you very uncomfortable. It would make you itch and scratch. The dust, mixed with a good dose of body odor, wasn’t much fun. and I, while working with , had a long standing tradition of using the blower to the dust off one another at the end of each job. Now, you have to remember that this blower is very strong. If it is pointed at your face, it could make your skin ripple. This day was no different than any other, so I began to off ’s clothes and hair with the blower.

must’ve gotten drunk the night before, because he did something very odd. Right at the point when I was pretty much done cleaning him off, he bent over and looked right at me. He opened his mouth and told me to point the blower at his face, so the air would fill up his mouth and make his cheeks really big. I guess he wanted to act like a dog, hanging his face out the window, while at 120 MPH. I didn’t really understand why he wanted me to do this, but who was I to argue with , who was just trying to have a little fun at the end of a hard day’s ? The real question was why would trust me to do this. Did he really think I was going to simply point the blower at his face and then walk away without doing anything else? To this day, I wonder what gave the impression that I wouldn’t mess with him. Poor .

I had a little stirring in my stomach as I raised the end of the blower tube up to ’s face. I just couldn’t believe that it was actually ’s idea for me to do what I was about to do. In neighboring towns, you couldn’t pay someone to let you do what I was doing.

I lowered the throttle and began to lift the tube to ’s face. He looked so eager. He thought he was a genius. He had such passion in his soul. His cheeks have never been as big as they were about to be. His eyes were wide. He was just thrilled. I raised the tube and pointed it right at ’s mouth. His cheeks immediately filled with air and expanded like a hot air balloon. YEAH, he was doing it… WAS DOING IT!!! He was flying high, higher than he has ever flown. I raised the throttle to full speed and the force of air got much stronger. It was like a rush of water being forced out of a fire hose. If you put your finger right next to the stream of air, you would feel nothing. If you moved your finger a quarter of an inch towards the , your finger would flip backwards. The end of the tube was about a foot away from ’s mouth. I am sure there has never been more air in anyone’s mouth in this part of the state. ’s cheeks were huge and his hair was blowing around like he just jumped out of an airplane at 30,000 feet.

Then I spit. Right in the .

Yes, you read correctly. Maybe it was ’s nice who raised him to look at all the good in the world…to trust others. Why didn’t think I was going to do this is probably best left for the great thinkers of our time.

Thwap…right to the back of poor ’s throat. We had been drinking sports drink throughout the entire day, so there was some good ammo.

I think I started giggling even before I let the beast out of my mouth. My knees were shaking from all the joy I was about to experience.

At the moment of impact, ’s head snapped upward and his eyes bulged at least a half inch larger than normal. His whole world came crashing down around him. I can only imagine the thoughts shooting around in ’s head at that moment…”What just happened? Where’s ? Who am I?” The molecules in ’s head were bouncing around in overdrive. Our eyes met and ’s look of question turned to horror as the whole idea of what just happened began to gel. A look of betrayal quickly took the place of horror.

I couldn’t believe I hit the . The chances of this adventure actually being executed this perfectly in someone’s lifetime are statistically nonexistent. My lips began to quiver as every muscle in my body lost its strength. My legs slightly gave out as I burst into the heartiest laughter I have ever experienced. began to run.

He followed his instincts. Earlier in the day, he noticed a hose attached to a spicket on the side of the . He ran towards it with me in tow. I was laughing so hard, I couldn’t turn the throttle on the blower down. There I was, chasing up the with the blower on full blast. The tube of the blower was whipping around like a turned to full with no one holding the end of it. It was like one of the snakes on Medusa’s head having a spasm. Tears were rolling down my cheeks. I almost didn’t make it.

I wanted to see what was going to do with the water. How he kept from swallowing the whole run up the , I don’t know. grabbed the hose and turned it on. The angels were on ’s side that day because water started flowing out of the hose. Can you imagine if the hose didn’t ? shoved the end of the hose into his mouth for a few minutes until there was nothing more he could do. I stood there laughing; now with the blower on idle. I turned it off and hovered over him, looking at a mere shell of what once was a strong and vibrant friend. His face was all wet and dripping with water. He was completely beaten down. Who knew that such a promising day could end like this? We walked back down to the truck.

The good thing about is that he never stays mad for very long. We probably made up within minutes and things probably returned to normal. I am not sure if he is aware of the gift he gave me that day…the gift of experiencing the absolute, number one, that ever happened in my short stay on this planet.

Now that the job was complete, we walked over to and asked him if he needed us to the next day. replied, “I will never the two of you together again in my life.”

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