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Wednesday, May 04, 2011
Monday, May 02, 2011
Bin Laden
From Sports Illustrated writer Peter King:
"Smarter people than I will write today about what it means. I don't have anything deep on that, other than this: We kept our word. We said we were going after bin Laden and wouldn't stop until we found him. It took a decade, but we did it, and I'm so proud of the men and women who have done their part to defend our country and find bin Laden."
I think that pretty much covers it.
"Smarter people than I will write today about what it means. I don't have anything deep on that, other than this: We kept our word. We said we were going after bin Laden and wouldn't stop until we found him. It took a decade, but we did it, and I'm so proud of the men and women who have done their part to defend our country and find bin Laden."
I think that pretty much covers it.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Story time
Y'all pull up a chair, uncle JC's gonna talk about his childhood 
When I was a teenager I had a job working for Burger King. One night, one of the night deposits comes up mysteriously missing. The night manager at the time mentions to the cops something about hearing that I know the combination to the safe (which I didn't) and that I had just bought a ring for my girlfriend (which I had)
So the cop comes out to interview me and my parents, asks us where I was that night (at home, and the parents confirmed it) Asked my parents if they had ever known me to sneak out of the house at night (they had, they were light sleepers) and if they were sure I didn't sneak out that night (they were)
So the cop asks my parents if he could set up an interview with me down at the station. They agree, and I go to the station where the cop start the hardcore interrogation. Tells me it would be better for everyone if I just admitted that I did it, and all that crap, and the he proceeds to tell me how this whole thing went down, in his eyes...
According to his "story", I get up at about 2:00 in the morning and sneak out a bedroom window. Before I went to bed I disabled the automatic garage door opener, so I could manually open the garage door, as it would be quieter, and my parents wouldn't hear it. Then I proceeded to push the car out of the garage, and out into the street, by myself without anyone hearing (oh and did I mention it was pouring rain that night?) After I got a ways down the street, I started the car and drove to Burger King.
To open the doors, which of course were locked, I had borrowed the keys from a manager while I was working, and pressed an imprint of the door key into clay, which I proceeded to take to a locksmith friend of mine who took that clay imprint and manufactured a key for me. I somehow managed to not trigger the alarm that was set (he never really explained how I managed that) and proceeded into the office where I opened the safe with the combination that I paid someone to give me. I then closed the safe, left the store without triggering the alarm, or leaving fingerprints on the safe, locked the doors and drove back home. When I got home I shut off the car again in the street, and pushed it back into the garage (the car was backed into the garage, and our driveway had a pretty significant hill to it) Then I closed the garage, and climbed back in the window to my room...All without leaving any sort of a trace, or waking up my parents.
And that was the believable story to this cop... somehow the story that the Night Manager had a drug problem and needed some extra cash to score was just so ridiculous, but this 17 year old kid having James Bond/MacGyver type skills is the theory they were going with...
Oh and the motive of my amazing evil villainous crime? I had just bought an "engagement ring" for my girlfriend at the time, and the following night after this amazing caper, went to pick it up with the cash I stole (Which if I remember right was about $1500 or so) I calmly explained to the cop, that I had bought a ring, but it was purchased a few weeks before that, and I had paid the paltry sum of about $100 or so. I even showed him the receipt for the item, which apparently wasn't good enough, as he tracked her down at her job and demanded to see her ring. Well nobody is going to mistake a $100 ring for a $1500 ring, so I figured it was over at that point... nope, they still made me go in and take a lie detector test (which I of course passed)
The point of this excessively long story... The simplest explanation is usually the correct one, well that and people love to create drama where there is none.
I know, I know... great story, bro!
every word of it is true though.
When I was a teenager I had a job working for Burger King. One night, one of the night deposits comes up mysteriously missing. The night manager at the time mentions to the cops something about hearing that I know the combination to the safe (which I didn't) and that I had just bought a ring for my girlfriend (which I had)
So the cop comes out to interview me and my parents, asks us where I was that night (at home, and the parents confirmed it) Asked my parents if they had ever known me to sneak out of the house at night (they had, they were light sleepers) and if they were sure I didn't sneak out that night (they were)
So the cop asks my parents if he could set up an interview with me down at the station. They agree, and I go to the station where the cop start the hardcore interrogation. Tells me it would be better for everyone if I just admitted that I did it, and all that crap, and the he proceeds to tell me how this whole thing went down, in his eyes...
According to his "story", I get up at about 2:00 in the morning and sneak out a bedroom window. Before I went to bed I disabled the automatic garage door opener, so I could manually open the garage door, as it would be quieter, and my parents wouldn't hear it. Then I proceeded to push the car out of the garage, and out into the street, by myself without anyone hearing (oh and did I mention it was pouring rain that night?) After I got a ways down the street, I started the car and drove to Burger King.
To open the doors, which of course were locked, I had borrowed the keys from a manager while I was working, and pressed an imprint of the door key into clay, which I proceeded to take to a locksmith friend of mine who took that clay imprint and manufactured a key for me. I somehow managed to not trigger the alarm that was set (he never really explained how I managed that) and proceeded into the office where I opened the safe with the combination that I paid someone to give me. I then closed the safe, left the store without triggering the alarm, or leaving fingerprints on the safe, locked the doors and drove back home. When I got home I shut off the car again in the street, and pushed it back into the garage (the car was backed into the garage, and our driveway had a pretty significant hill to it) Then I closed the garage, and climbed back in the window to my room...All without leaving any sort of a trace, or waking up my parents.
And that was the believable story to this cop... somehow the story that the Night Manager had a drug problem and needed some extra cash to score was just so ridiculous, but this 17 year old kid having James Bond/MacGyver type skills is the theory they were going with...
Oh and the motive of my amazing evil villainous crime? I had just bought an "engagement ring" for my girlfriend at the time, and the following night after this amazing caper, went to pick it up with the cash I stole (Which if I remember right was about $1500 or so) I calmly explained to the cop, that I had bought a ring, but it was purchased a few weeks before that, and I had paid the paltry sum of about $100 or so. I even showed him the receipt for the item, which apparently wasn't good enough, as he tracked her down at her job and demanded to see her ring. Well nobody is going to mistake a $100 ring for a $1500 ring, so I figured it was over at that point... nope, they still made me go in and take a lie detector test (which I of course passed)
The point of this excessively long story... The simplest explanation is usually the correct one, well that and people love to create drama where there is none.
I know, I know... great story, bro!
every word of it is true though.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Smoke
"Don't ever take a puff on a cigarette, because once you do, it's going to haunt you for the rest of your life."
Thing is, I love to smoke. I've smoked on and off since I was about 15 or so, and quit for about the millionth time last August. It's so true.
It's to the point where I was starting to have health problems... of course I have no idea if those health problems had anything to do with smoking or not, but it sure seems coincidental that they have gone away since I quit.
It's always been a part of my life... back in the day hanging out at the mall (back when you were allowed to smoke in the mall) going to seedy arcades, driving around town, or going to the local cruise. Hanging out in the garage playing in a band. Going to the bars, and having a few drinks and a smoke. Hell there's even a video of me out there lighting up the "first smoke of the new millennium" at midnight on 1/1/2000. I can't even imagine what college would have been like without my Marlboro Light Menthols, hell our dorm room and apartment was always obscured in a cloud of smoke. I used to sit for hours, playing Command and Conquer, and chain smoking.
Point being, I love to smoke. I haven't had a cigarette since August, yet every warm spring day, I feel the urge pulling me outside... go enjoy the weather, and while your at it, enjoy a nice smooth Marlboro.
Then again, I'm not really sure what my point is... maybe just lamenting that there is no such thing as a safe cigarette, as much as I wish there was. And maybe it isn't the smokes at all, but the memories that seem to have floated away like the vapor trail of a solitary cigarette in the evening.
Thing is, I love to smoke. I've smoked on and off since I was about 15 or so, and quit for about the millionth time last August. It's so true.
It's to the point where I was starting to have health problems... of course I have no idea if those health problems had anything to do with smoking or not, but it sure seems coincidental that they have gone away since I quit.
It's always been a part of my life... back in the day hanging out at the mall (back when you were allowed to smoke in the mall) going to seedy arcades, driving around town, or going to the local cruise. Hanging out in the garage playing in a band. Going to the bars, and having a few drinks and a smoke. Hell there's even a video of me out there lighting up the "first smoke of the new millennium" at midnight on 1/1/2000. I can't even imagine what college would have been like without my Marlboro Light Menthols, hell our dorm room and apartment was always obscured in a cloud of smoke. I used to sit for hours, playing Command and Conquer, and chain smoking.
Point being, I love to smoke. I haven't had a cigarette since August, yet every warm spring day, I feel the urge pulling me outside... go enjoy the weather, and while your at it, enjoy a nice smooth Marlboro.
Then again, I'm not really sure what my point is... maybe just lamenting that there is no such thing as a safe cigarette, as much as I wish there was. And maybe it isn't the smokes at all, but the memories that seem to have floated away like the vapor trail of a solitary cigarette in the evening.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Thursday, February 03, 2011
August 1990
Just as the sun starts to fade for the evening, the first headlights start to pull up in the big field at the end of my street. I take a look out my back window and smile. It’s getting close to 8:00, time to get going. Hours of work went into washing and waxing my ragtop for tonight, but I wanted it to look just right. For tonight, I hoped, wouldn’t be just any night. A gentle buzz of nervous excitement was in the air, maybe it was just the noise from people who were already there, maybe it was just me.
As I pull the top down off my jeep, I can hear the laughter coming from the field. Yup, it was time to go party. Kicking on the four by four, I proceed to pull into the field. It’s still a little muddy from the rain last week, but mostly dry. There wasn’t nearly enough to destroy my earlier labors, so I was relieved. By the time I pulled up to a chorus of hellos the sun had already retired for the night, replaced by the orange glow of the harvest moon. It seems like more people showed up tonight than ever, perhaps because we all know that summer will be over soon, and we’re all going our separate ways. Some are off to work, others to colleges in strange places with names foreign to me. Me, I am not really sure where I am going, hell I don’t even know where I have been for the past 4 years.
But there’s no reason to worry about that tonight. Tonight there’s beer to be drank, and women to be loved, and sins to be committed. Tomorrow will come when it does. Wandering from car to car, I hear people talking about their dreams, where they’re going, what they want to do, and who they want in their backseat. I’m sure some of them will get it too.
Going over to the bed of Tommy's pickup, I climb in and crack open a beer. We talk for a while, about the same old shit, and what pretty girl is walking by. We ask each other where we went wrong, and how we screwed up, and how to fix it, but mostly we just tip back a few cold ones. Growing tired of this, I work my way back to my convertible and sit down on the hood, waiting. A few of my friends drop over for a quick chat on their way to someone else, but mostly I am alone. And I am okay with that. The amber glow of my radio, the stars in the sky and some one timer singing a song about love that’s gone wrong is my entire world right now. I grab another beer and feel the beginnings of intoxication set in, but that’s fine. I am not going anywhere until the last headlights have left to their own private pilgrimage. Leaning back on my windshield I look up at the sky and look up at the stars. The sky is so clear; it looks like I could see a billion stars tonight. The warm breeze blows through my hair, and another song plays on the radio. Amanda comes over to me and gives me companionship for a while.
“Counting stars again?” she asks, “ You always were a dreamer.”
With a gentle kiss on the cheek, she says goodbye, off to pursue her own dreams. And I am alone again. Alone with just the stars, the radio and my thoughts. And that is OK with me.
Just as the sun starts to fade for the evening, the first headlights start to pull up in the big field at the end of my street. I take a look out my back window and smile. It’s getting close to 8:00, time to get going. Hours of work went into washing and waxing my ragtop for tonight, but I wanted it to look just right. For tonight, I hoped, wouldn’t be just any night. A gentle buzz of nervous excitement was in the air, maybe it was just the noise from people who were already there, maybe it was just me.
As I pull the top down off my jeep, I can hear the laughter coming from the field. Yup, it was time to go party. Kicking on the four by four, I proceed to pull into the field. It’s still a little muddy from the rain last week, but mostly dry. There wasn’t nearly enough to destroy my earlier labors, so I was relieved. By the time I pulled up to a chorus of hellos the sun had already retired for the night, replaced by the orange glow of the harvest moon. It seems like more people showed up tonight than ever, perhaps because we all know that summer will be over soon, and we’re all going our separate ways. Some are off to work, others to colleges in strange places with names foreign to me. Me, I am not really sure where I am going, hell I don’t even know where I have been for the past 4 years.
But there’s no reason to worry about that tonight. Tonight there’s beer to be drank, and women to be loved, and sins to be committed. Tomorrow will come when it does. Wandering from car to car, I hear people talking about their dreams, where they’re going, what they want to do, and who they want in their backseat. I’m sure some of them will get it too.
Going over to the bed of Tommy's pickup, I climb in and crack open a beer. We talk for a while, about the same old shit, and what pretty girl is walking by. We ask each other where we went wrong, and how we screwed up, and how to fix it, but mostly we just tip back a few cold ones. Growing tired of this, I work my way back to my convertible and sit down on the hood, waiting. A few of my friends drop over for a quick chat on their way to someone else, but mostly I am alone. And I am okay with that. The amber glow of my radio, the stars in the sky and some one timer singing a song about love that’s gone wrong is my entire world right now. I grab another beer and feel the beginnings of intoxication set in, but that’s fine. I am not going anywhere until the last headlights have left to their own private pilgrimage. Leaning back on my windshield I look up at the sky and look up at the stars. The sky is so clear; it looks like I could see a billion stars tonight. The warm breeze blows through my hair, and another song plays on the radio. Amanda comes over to me and gives me companionship for a while.
“Counting stars again?” she asks, “ You always were a dreamer.”
With a gentle kiss on the cheek, she says goodbye, off to pursue her own dreams. And I am alone again. Alone with just the stars, the radio and my thoughts. And that is OK with me.
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