Well I have told a few stories about Jim Ryan, and it is time to tell one about my younger (9 years) brother. We used to hang out a lot more than we do now and we have always had good times together in each others company. I influenced him in many ways growing up, like I turned him on to rock when he was just a pup, bought him his first guitar (he plays bass now and very well I should add) took him to his first concert at Winterland in 1974 and remember the lineup to this day, Rush opened the show, and then the Tubes, and finally Kiss. A strange show for all involved, with the exception of Rush who had basically just formed, both the other bands had big theatrical effects and The Tubes had an elaborate stage show. Anyway I am getting off track, that was the first show I brought him to and we attended many,many more over the years. But in all that time he never saw the Grateful Dead until a June day in 1990 when I had an extra ticket and dragged him along. He was way more influenced by Rush,Mettalica,and hard core metal at the time. And it was on...
We arrived at Shoreline Amphitheatre about 3 hours before the show and as I lived a mile away at the time we had started getting primed up early. When we got to the Turkish Market, I mean the parking lot the atmosphere was already a giant party as usual and we started roaming the grounds looking for acid. It was not very long before we achieved our mission and had several different batches of blotter assembled and ready in case some of them were not any good. And none of them ended up being bad, so needless to say, about an hour before the show we were starting to come on to it. We were sitting around my car next to this huge patch of lawn and this guy in a wheelchair busts out this giant parafoil kite and starts to fly this damn thing. Now this thing was just what we needed to see as we started tripping, a giant fluorescent wing spinning and weaving, nice, and all of a sudden this huge gust of wind jerks this guy up out of the chair and on the grass being towed by this enormous kite. I couldn't help myself as I started laughing and giggling like only lsd can make you do. I am bent over with tears in my eyes laughing at the situation and meanwhile Johnny starts to go help this poor guy and I start telling him to leave the guy alone, that he doesn't need or want any help, but Johnny wanted a hand at flying that big mother. It was gonna be one of those days!
I had given my bro a flask that looked exactly like a pair of binoculars and we had that thing full of Southern Comfort and we headed for the gates thinking we were being so sly. Not.
First thing the security went for? You got it and so did they as we watched close to a fifth get poured out. But we were so high by then it probably wouldn't have mattered.
Now for those who know and for those who don't, there is NOTHING like a Grateful Dead show, so many people so much tye dye so much fun... We tried to buy a couple of sausage sandwich but burst into that maniacal laughter when we heard the counter call out "gimme two Italians,LOADED" and being two Sicilians with a head full of halucinogens I don't think we ate much of them at that point. We wound our way slowly up to the lawn and just as we found a spot out comes the Dead and I hear the sounds of Shakedown Street starting the show. With the lsd starting to really take hold it is sometimes hard to concentrate, I mean all the colors just came alive as I started peaking. And Johnny is pretty much dumbfounded by the event going on not only up on the stage but at the crowd as well, the tye dye and funny hats and right about this time a guy walks past with eyes painted on his eyelids and John took one look at this kid and hysterically starts laughing and follows this kid around pointing at him. And poof I turn around and John was gone!
At that point I could have cared less, I was home. I was with my phamily and all was good with the world that day, for me after the first 20 shows it became my religion, I went to Dead shows and gobbled lsd as communion. And I am positive at least half the people in there were as high or higher than myself, it always amazed me that so many folks could drop acid and be able to drive off the lot afterwards (myself included) though I only had a short distance to go to get home. After drums/space things calmed down a little and I knew before long this would be all over soon, until next time. I finally hooked back up with Johnny as the show ended and he told me of his encounters in the last 90 minutes as we started back for the car. Though the lot,which to those who have never been to a show is like a big party/open market with drugs of all kinds and tye dye shirts and oh yes the food. We had parked about as far away from the show as you could get which meant that we would be the last ones out and since we couldn't consume those hoagies were starting to get good and hungry. We walk past this kid hawking 95% organic burritos and all sorts of other goodies, but I already knew what I wanted. One of those whole wheat 37 grain bread sandwich with avocado and cheese and sprouts, mmm, I could taste it. We made it all the way back to the car and started away and this kid walks up with a box of sandwiches as I think "score" and pull a few bucks out of my pocket. And I bite into the thing and am revolted to find out that instead of avocado and cheese it was hummus. Smashed garbanzo beans that is horrid on a good day much less when coming down off of cid. I spit this shit out and started looking for the kid with the box to no avail. Now if you have read any of my other stories this is the part when thing get fuzzy and I end the story. So I will do so now, everybody got away safe and that wasn't the last Dead show John and I would attend together. I miss those days sometimes.
Wednesday, March 02, 2005
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
One Night at Neros
If you have read any of the other stories presented here you have probably pegged me as an alcoholic, I'm not, I never have had a problem with putting it down when needed. Alcohol once again though provides an entertaining little story. I still have a couple on occasion but after the heart attacks (2) I have pretty much ended that phase of things. I have enough fun without it and can remember things now.
Back a few years ago Mr. Ryan and I with plenty of money and all the time in the world got bored one evening and decided to go to the casinos and do a little gambling. By the time we ended up at Caesar's Tahoe we were on our way to another alcohol fueled good time, we were both ahead at the tables and I decided to stop and walk (always smart when ahead), and coaxed Jimmy to exit as well and went into Nero's, at the time the hottest club in Glitter Gulch. After hitting the bar and grabbing drinks we started scoping out some talent. After following Jim around the dance floor we sided up next to two beautiful lady's on one of the couches and started chatting with them. One of the pluses of having a best friend half my age and handsome to boot is I seem to always be around pretty girls, even if the odds aren't in my favor sometimes things turn out. Well Jim starts up a conversation with this stunning blonde and proceeds to make some moves. I was having a fun conversation with her friend , barely able to hear her as the music in Nero's is always cranked, with one eye on her and the other on my partner (always amazed at the way this guy seems to attract beauty without any effort ). Well just then the music abruptly quiets and I hear Mr.Ryan say to this girl "Hey I love your nose ring". She gives him this armor piercing look and says "It's not a nose ring, it's a MOLE, you idiot" and she jumps up grabs her friends arm and *POOF* those two are gone... At this point, like so many,many other times I look at Jimmy and He looks at me with this goofy look he gets sometimes after about a gallon of booze and half smiles. And once again I am about to piss myself laughing... I followed him around the club saying "I like your nose ring", until he started getting a little out of sorts. As with most of these little vignettes I have no clue where or who we ended up with that night, but ended up with another story for posterity.
Back a few years ago Mr. Ryan and I with plenty of money and all the time in the world got bored one evening and decided to go to the casinos and do a little gambling. By the time we ended up at Caesar's Tahoe we were on our way to another alcohol fueled good time, we were both ahead at the tables and I decided to stop and walk (always smart when ahead), and coaxed Jimmy to exit as well and went into Nero's, at the time the hottest club in Glitter Gulch. After hitting the bar and grabbing drinks we started scoping out some talent. After following Jim around the dance floor we sided up next to two beautiful lady's on one of the couches and started chatting with them. One of the pluses of having a best friend half my age and handsome to boot is I seem to always be around pretty girls, even if the odds aren't in my favor sometimes things turn out. Well Jim starts up a conversation with this stunning blonde and proceeds to make some moves. I was having a fun conversation with her friend , barely able to hear her as the music in Nero's is always cranked, with one eye on her and the other on my partner (always amazed at the way this guy seems to attract beauty without any effort ). Well just then the music abruptly quiets and I hear Mr.Ryan say to this girl "Hey I love your nose ring". She gives him this armor piercing look and says "It's not a nose ring, it's a MOLE, you idiot" and she jumps up grabs her friends arm and *POOF* those two are gone... At this point, like so many,many other times I look at Jimmy and He looks at me with this goofy look he gets sometimes after about a gallon of booze and half smiles. And once again I am about to piss myself laughing... I followed him around the club saying "I like your nose ring", until he started getting a little out of sorts. As with most of these little vignettes I have no clue where or who we ended up with that night, but ended up with another story for posterity.
Thursday, January 27, 2005
VISITATION
To begin this story I need to give a little background, dear reader.
When my parents married both had kids from a previous marriage. I have an older half brother and sister. When I was about 12 my brother and his family disappeared. My mother was devastated and if she wasn't an alcoholic before this happened, she became one after to be sure, and although I was too young to understand the whys and wherefores, I grew to hate him. And I vowed I would beat him down if he crossed my path again. This all began in 1967 or so.
My mother survived having a lung removed but her broken heart was never cured and she died never knowing what happened to her firstborn son. In 1992 a year after Mom died my older sister searched through a private detective and found him in Germany where he had served in the army.
I got a call from my little sister and she was trying to convince me to see this jerk and his wife. In the condo I lived in I had put family pictures on the wall going up the stairs to the bedrooms. I had a particular favorite picture of Mom and it was two portraits in a desk frame that was hinged in the middle, and I had placed it at the top of the wall about halfway up the staircase where nothing could disturb them. As my sister was trying to convince me to do something I was adamant about not doing I gazed at my Mothers portraits several times. I turned away and when I looked back the two pictures had come away from the wall at least two inches as if they were trying to close. I have ALWAYS been a skeptic about spirits and the afterworld until that moment. I took it as a sign from Mom that I should bury the hatchet and go see my brother.
Now a few months before disappearing my bro took me to see a guy he worked with race motorcyles, it was the last fond memory I had of him. After the race we ended up at a little beer garden up behind Stanford University in Portola Valley called The Alpine Inn (formerly Rossotti's) where we had a great time. When I was about 31 I landed a job as a restaurant manager at a place about a mile from the beer joint and ended up becoming a regular patron.
So I decided I would take them up there for a beer. While we were in the back garden I hear the name of the guy that we had gone to the races with being called to the phone. Needless to say when I went up to him and told him my brother was here all three of us were in shock. After 25 or so years had passed it was unreal that we should all be in the same spot at the same time. I don't know if these things happened for a reason, but I think Mom had something to do with it.
Things didn't exactly gel with my brother, the difference in age, language ( he could barely speak English ) and culture were too great. And I think my Mom was able to move on, because however many times I have yearned for contact again, it hasn't happened.
When my parents married both had kids from a previous marriage. I have an older half brother and sister. When I was about 12 my brother and his family disappeared. My mother was devastated and if she wasn't an alcoholic before this happened, she became one after to be sure, and although I was too young to understand the whys and wherefores, I grew to hate him. And I vowed I would beat him down if he crossed my path again. This all began in 1967 or so.
My mother survived having a lung removed but her broken heart was never cured and she died never knowing what happened to her firstborn son. In 1992 a year after Mom died my older sister searched through a private detective and found him in Germany where he had served in the army.
I got a call from my little sister and she was trying to convince me to see this jerk and his wife. In the condo I lived in I had put family pictures on the wall going up the stairs to the bedrooms. I had a particular favorite picture of Mom and it was two portraits in a desk frame that was hinged in the middle, and I had placed it at the top of the wall about halfway up the staircase where nothing could disturb them. As my sister was trying to convince me to do something I was adamant about not doing I gazed at my Mothers portraits several times. I turned away and when I looked back the two pictures had come away from the wall at least two inches as if they were trying to close. I have ALWAYS been a skeptic about spirits and the afterworld until that moment. I took it as a sign from Mom that I should bury the hatchet and go see my brother.
Now a few months before disappearing my bro took me to see a guy he worked with race motorcyles, it was the last fond memory I had of him. After the race we ended up at a little beer garden up behind Stanford University in Portola Valley called The Alpine Inn (formerly Rossotti's) where we had a great time. When I was about 31 I landed a job as a restaurant manager at a place about a mile from the beer joint and ended up becoming a regular patron.
So I decided I would take them up there for a beer. While we were in the back garden I hear the name of the guy that we had gone to the races with being called to the phone. Needless to say when I went up to him and told him my brother was here all three of us were in shock. After 25 or so years had passed it was unreal that we should all be in the same spot at the same time. I don't know if these things happened for a reason, but I think Mom had something to do with it.
Things didn't exactly gel with my brother, the difference in age, language ( he could barely speak English ) and culture were too great. And I think my Mom was able to move on, because however many times I have yearned for contact again, it hasn't happened.
Tuesday, December 28, 2004
A DAY AT THE BEACH
Ask any southie in Lake Tahoe where the beach to see and be seen in the area and I will almost bet the answer will be Zephyr Cove on the Nevada side. But if you ask me the locals favorite place to semi-get away from the throngs of gawker's (tourist's) that swarm the area in the summer I won't tell you, that is why it is the local's favorite.
Anyway back to the story, Ryan and I have a summer ritual we have carried out without fail for the last few years. An almost daily occurrence when monkey boy isn't climbing tree's, is to jump in the convertible warthog K5 and head out for an afternoon of swilling beer and the occasional cocktail (beach service) whilst doing a little gawking of our own. We narrow it to the female age group from 19 to 50, and any sweet thing that crosses our area is scrutinized. We of course, being gentlmen refrain from comments until the scrutinized is out of earshot, and though sometimes it is impossible to keep from salivating, we never drool...
Except this one time. We mosey down to the beach and set up the kooler and chairs and start drinking the afternoon away. After returning from a wander around the deck I discover Ryan had struck up a conversation with two very lovely late twenty early thirty ladies who had noticed that forestry fire fighter t-shirt of his(said shirt has gotten more play than Steve Young) and we discovered that they were CDF fire fighters on vaykay after a hot one in L.A county. Now I am positive if I hadn't been there Jimmy would have probably wound up in a very hot menage-a-trois. Once in awhile our large age difference puts a crimp in my young friends style. Things had proceeded as far as they were going to with these two. As soon as we got back to gawking at talent, three very young slabs of beef swoop in and the temp gradually got warmer, the thermometer broke right there in front of us right on Zephyr Cove beach, it was turning into a menage-a-quint. There was kissing and fondling and licking and bikini's being pushed aside both tops and bottoms like it was business as usual, it occurred that these girls were not up at Tahoe for the view. Jim and I sat there dumbfounded for a half a sec and then began offering play by play and the occasional suggestion. And nobody gave a shit. The beach had cleared out pretty much or they couldn't have got away with this public orgy. Althought at one point, a mother shielded her child's eyes to the festivities. But there it was right in front of us. We couldn't wait to let others bear witness and hailed two older gents down the beach. We sit on this picnic table like we are at a ball game and one old guy asks if he can get his camera by this time nobody cared or was paying attention. Guy comes back with his digital and starts clicking and hands us a 1.75 liter bottle of Ketel One vodka ( high end brand) and Jim and I went to town, well to bring this tale to an end we got drunk and horny and the five left to go to someone's hot tub and I don't know whatever happened to the old guys. Sex on the beach wasn't just the name of a cocktail that hot summer afternoon....
Anyway back to the story, Ryan and I have a summer ritual we have carried out without fail for the last few years. An almost daily occurrence when monkey boy isn't climbing tree's, is to jump in the convertible warthog K5 and head out for an afternoon of swilling beer and the occasional cocktail (beach service) whilst doing a little gawking of our own. We narrow it to the female age group from 19 to 50, and any sweet thing that crosses our area is scrutinized. We of course, being gentlmen refrain from comments until the scrutinized is out of earshot, and though sometimes it is impossible to keep from salivating, we never drool...
Except this one time. We mosey down to the beach and set up the kooler and chairs and start drinking the afternoon away. After returning from a wander around the deck I discover Ryan had struck up a conversation with two very lovely late twenty early thirty ladies who had noticed that forestry fire fighter t-shirt of his(said shirt has gotten more play than Steve Young) and we discovered that they were CDF fire fighters on vaykay after a hot one in L.A county. Now I am positive if I hadn't been there Jimmy would have probably wound up in a very hot menage-a-trois. Once in awhile our large age difference puts a crimp in my young friends style. Things had proceeded as far as they were going to with these two. As soon as we got back to gawking at talent, three very young slabs of beef swoop in and the temp gradually got warmer, the thermometer broke right there in front of us right on Zephyr Cove beach, it was turning into a menage-a-quint. There was kissing and fondling and licking and bikini's being pushed aside both tops and bottoms like it was business as usual, it occurred that these girls were not up at Tahoe for the view. Jim and I sat there dumbfounded for a half a sec and then began offering play by play and the occasional suggestion. And nobody gave a shit. The beach had cleared out pretty much or they couldn't have got away with this public orgy. Althought at one point, a mother shielded her child's eyes to the festivities. But there it was right in front of us. We couldn't wait to let others bear witness and hailed two older gents down the beach. We sit on this picnic table like we are at a ball game and one old guy asks if he can get his camera by this time nobody cared or was paying attention. Guy comes back with his digital and starts clicking and hands us a 1.75 liter bottle of Ketel One vodka ( high end brand) and Jim and I went to town, well to bring this tale to an end we got drunk and horny and the five left to go to someone's hot tub and I don't know whatever happened to the old guys. Sex on the beach wasn't just the name of a cocktail that hot summer afternoon....
Monday, November 08, 2004
A TRIP OFF THE HILL
That first summer I lived here in Tahoe, camping when and where the spirit moved me, I heard the call of my Phamily. I became a deadhead in the summer of love when I was twelve and witnessed Jerry and the Boys in a little park on a sunny day play the show from the back of a flatbed truck. I can't begin to count the shows I have seen or the friends I have made along the way in this journey.
I had been mourning the loss of the fat man for 3 years when I found out that the rest of the band had re-formed calling themselves the Other Ones. I had to go to shoreline amphitheater in my old town Mountain View and be with my people once again. So off I went off the hill in that infamous little red truck and down to the flats again. The trip down was uneventful and I was supposed to meet up with some Tahoe hippies at the show, I didn't meet them but I did meet someone with some decent blotter that was a very pleasant enhancement to the traveling circus that is known as a Show.
I was home again! With the spinners,tapers,systers and brethren, and due to the success of Touch of Grey the tweekers,dirties,and a host of pseudo-hippies that could not understand the history and the culture that surrounds these events. And the Turkish market know also as the parking lot which is REALLY fun after about an hour of ingesting 300 mics or so of good LSD.
Any way I am getting sidetracked here.
The day was all I expected and I witnessed the show from the start, Rusted Root did a set, which was cool but after many shows it was hardly an appetizer, and then Hot Tuna came on and Jack and Jorma ripped it for the next hour or so, and it was stellar. And then the band hit the stage, three of the original band Phil,Bobby, and Mickey along with John Molo and Steve Kimmock and Bruce Hornsby rounded it out and the joy began! Once the band beyond description got a going there was a gasp from the crowd as Billy Kreutzman, who had been quite incognito from both the tour and the public in general since Jerry' passing, stepped up on the riser and laid down that rock solid rhythm I have grown to know and love. It was a show that would be carved into my memory eternally. I have yet to see the Dead, yet.
As I said it was a perfect night, but as I generally do, I hadn't made any plans. When the show ended I herded back to the lot and partied with kynd pholk until I was chased out of the lot at around 12 am, and I was off once again in the little red truck,oh did I mention a head still really high on LSD, this time at least on very familiar ground albeit late at night and sans lodging for the night (or morning as it was).
I was not about to attempt driving across California in the middle of the night chemically altered to the gills (and full of beer also). Not drunk mind you but buzzed enough. I took a ride back to the Pacific coast for the night and knowing the Santa Cruz sheriff rolled a little further up highway One to the little spot on the map about 10 miles north of the Cruz to Davenport.
Where I parked in a dirt lot and crawled into the bed of the truck without thinking about taking my medicines(still quite a few then,more now!) and fell asleep. I would pop up the cover on the truckbed throw a blue tarp over that and zammo!, instant camper!
Six hours or so later I woke up with a case of full blown gout, which I have suffered from since I was 18 or so. I have in the last 50 years gone through some really heavy duty pain. Nothing compares with the agony of full blown gout, even a broken bone measures up to it. PAIN!
I was in so much I could not even think about crawling out of the back of the truck to the cab where relief was in the form of 10mg vicodin, so I laid there. I laid there just far enough away from the other tribe that no one could hear if I wanted them to, which I did. I finally fell back to a fitful sleep.
OK, so I am so sick I can't move and can't get help when I was awoken by a piercing howl in the direction of the beach. I heard it and paid no more attention to it as I had my own trouble. About 20 minutes past when I heard the familiar, unwelcome sound of police radio chatter. RIGHT next to the truck, and from the chatter I discovered that a couple of kids from the show that were camped there had taken a walk along the sandy cliffs above the Pacific, and the girl had gone over the side 75 feet down. Next thing I know I am lying in the back of the truck surrounded by the police,sherriff and a bunch of gawkers. I pulled the covers over my head just before John Law took a peep and overlooked the 400lb lump laying there. I thought that was bad enough when I hear a chopper flying in to serve in the rescue of the unfortunate young woman. Guess where they decided to land the damn thing? Yup, right next to the little red truck! All this activity happening inches away from my fugitive ass. Well I hunkered down and didn't let out a peep and eventually the girl was airlifted away, and all the law enforcement and emt went away. I waited until I heard someone near the truck and called out to them and relief was on the way, I popped 4 vikes and waited until I was numbed enough to crawl out and get in the cab and able to drive, and drive I did, I drove it all the way home to Tahoe, and did not leave the hill again until after my little stay at the greybar. There is no moral to this story it is just another chronicle in this crazy life of mine.
I had been mourning the loss of the fat man for 3 years when I found out that the rest of the band had re-formed calling themselves the Other Ones. I had to go to shoreline amphitheater in my old town Mountain View and be with my people once again. So off I went off the hill in that infamous little red truck and down to the flats again. The trip down was uneventful and I was supposed to meet up with some Tahoe hippies at the show, I didn't meet them but I did meet someone with some decent blotter that was a very pleasant enhancement to the traveling circus that is known as a Show.
I was home again! With the spinners,tapers,systers and brethren, and due to the success of Touch of Grey the tweekers,dirties,and a host of pseudo-hippies that could not understand the history and the culture that surrounds these events. And the Turkish market know also as the parking lot which is REALLY fun after about an hour of ingesting 300 mics or so of good LSD.
Any way I am getting sidetracked here.
The day was all I expected and I witnessed the show from the start, Rusted Root did a set, which was cool but after many shows it was hardly an appetizer, and then Hot Tuna came on and Jack and Jorma ripped it for the next hour or so, and it was stellar. And then the band hit the stage, three of the original band Phil,Bobby, and Mickey along with John Molo and Steve Kimmock and Bruce Hornsby rounded it out and the joy began! Once the band beyond description got a going there was a gasp from the crowd as Billy Kreutzman, who had been quite incognito from both the tour and the public in general since Jerry' passing, stepped up on the riser and laid down that rock solid rhythm I have grown to know and love. It was a show that would be carved into my memory eternally. I have yet to see the Dead, yet.
As I said it was a perfect night, but as I generally do, I hadn't made any plans. When the show ended I herded back to the lot and partied with kynd pholk until I was chased out of the lot at around 12 am, and I was off once again in the little red truck,oh did I mention a head still really high on LSD, this time at least on very familiar ground albeit late at night and sans lodging for the night (or morning as it was).
I was not about to attempt driving across California in the middle of the night chemically altered to the gills (and full of beer also). Not drunk mind you but buzzed enough. I took a ride back to the Pacific coast for the night and knowing the Santa Cruz sheriff rolled a little further up highway One to the little spot on the map about 10 miles north of the Cruz to Davenport.
Where I parked in a dirt lot and crawled into the bed of the truck without thinking about taking my medicines(still quite a few then,more now!) and fell asleep. I would pop up the cover on the truckbed throw a blue tarp over that and zammo!, instant camper!
Six hours or so later I woke up with a case of full blown gout, which I have suffered from since I was 18 or so. I have in the last 50 years gone through some really heavy duty pain. Nothing compares with the agony of full blown gout, even a broken bone measures up to it. PAIN!
I was in so much I could not even think about crawling out of the back of the truck to the cab where relief was in the form of 10mg vicodin, so I laid there. I laid there just far enough away from the other tribe that no one could hear if I wanted them to, which I did. I finally fell back to a fitful sleep.
OK, so I am so sick I can't move and can't get help when I was awoken by a piercing howl in the direction of the beach. I heard it and paid no more attention to it as I had my own trouble. About 20 minutes past when I heard the familiar, unwelcome sound of police radio chatter. RIGHT next to the truck, and from the chatter I discovered that a couple of kids from the show that were camped there had taken a walk along the sandy cliffs above the Pacific, and the girl had gone over the side 75 feet down. Next thing I know I am lying in the back of the truck surrounded by the police,sherriff and a bunch of gawkers. I pulled the covers over my head just before John Law took a peep and overlooked the 400lb lump laying there. I thought that was bad enough when I hear a chopper flying in to serve in the rescue of the unfortunate young woman. Guess where they decided to land the damn thing? Yup, right next to the little red truck! All this activity happening inches away from my fugitive ass. Well I hunkered down and didn't let out a peep and eventually the girl was airlifted away, and all the law enforcement and emt went away. I waited until I heard someone near the truck and called out to them and relief was on the way, I popped 4 vikes and waited until I was numbed enough to crawl out and get in the cab and able to drive, and drive I did, I drove it all the way home to Tahoe, and did not leave the hill again until after my little stay at the greybar. There is no moral to this story it is just another chronicle in this crazy life of mine.
Sunday, November 07, 2004
THE TROUT THIEF
ONCE AGAIN A TRUE OCCURRENCE (HEY WHO COULD MAKE THIS SHIT UP?)
A little while after the great lettuce smackdown and my last semi-permanent stay at Bayview I was sick of spending all my cash on weekly motel rooms, I was offered a place to couch it for awhile with a guy I had met and decided to room with someone for the first time in many many years, I can barely live with myself much less someone I hardly knew outside of one of Tahoe's many watering holes. But I needed to save,and moved on in anyway.
Now little brother (40) had found a wife and left our beautiful lake for the foothills of Placerville. It had been two months without hearing hide nor hair from him, when I got a phone call from Ryan that John had come back to town for the day and was looking for me. Before you know it the tree stooges were back in action once again! They rolled up to the house with enough booze to supply a college frat party, and it was on. Now my new roomie was more serious about alcohol than any of us, and that was pretty hard to do in those daze. Serious enough that he would wait for the liquor store to open in the mornings to get something to steady his hands enough to hold his wrenches at work. So needless to say he was more than ready to help out with eliminating some of that evil alcohol.
Well the drunker we got the more we drank, and the more we drank, the taller the boots would have to be to wade through all of the bullshit being circulated. After several hours Fogo decides to reveal a secret fishing hole to us. Well I don't know about anybody else but I generally fish in the early morning. Ryan and Fogo decide to go fishin' in the middle of the night and did so. John and I were drunk but not that drunk, so they left, and we drank more, and had a few more laughs and basically passed out.
We were rudely awakened at about 11am by these clowns rolling back home, how they made it there or back is a wonder! And after Ryan tells us about Fogo building a campfire (it was still freezing out) he fell asleep and caught his freakin boots on fire. They got up and fished. And they came home with about 15 decent keeper trout, and we both were impressed. That is until Jim breaks out the biggest damn trout I had ever seen taken out of a river. It had to be 4 or 5 lbs. which is a damn big rainbow trout. We were amazed and surprised, we would be eatin fish for dinner. We thought we would anyway. After a few celebratory rounds I went back to sleep and left the other tree idiots to sleep or tell a few more fish stories or whatever I was hungover and sleepy. Apparently we all fell asleep, or so I thought. We awoke to some really foul language that assaulted us out of sleep and into the kitchen where Ryan was standing pissed off. His big rainbow was MIA. So was Fogo. We waited for hours figuring out exactly where said trout had parted to or more importantly where Mr. Fogo had slunk off to, we searched around the bars, just missing him every step and finding out that Fogo had caught this trout! At least that is what the asshole told anyone that would listen, and with that kind of a fish a lot of people listened to his story. He totally stole the fire and the fish, when we later found him he refused to admit he had stolen it! Even after a few lumps distributed by the angry Irish he claimed that the cat must have taken it out of the sink. The fish cleaned weighed more than the feline. We never found the fish, but we are pretty sure that Fogo in a grand attempt at ass kissing had delivered the trout to his boss as a gift trying to make points to cover his boozing problem. Months after in his 14th or 15th DUI Fogo T-boned a doctor in a new SUV and ended up in prison, we never talked again. But we did see that fishing hole quite a few more times and still visit, and rarely if ever get skunked, although we have never taken another Rainy out the likes of the one that got taken away.
A little while after the great lettuce smackdown and my last semi-permanent stay at Bayview I was sick of spending all my cash on weekly motel rooms, I was offered a place to couch it for awhile with a guy I had met and decided to room with someone for the first time in many many years, I can barely live with myself much less someone I hardly knew outside of one of Tahoe's many watering holes. But I needed to save,and moved on in anyway.
Now little brother (40) had found a wife and left our beautiful lake for the foothills of Placerville. It had been two months without hearing hide nor hair from him, when I got a phone call from Ryan that John had come back to town for the day and was looking for me. Before you know it the tree stooges were back in action once again! They rolled up to the house with enough booze to supply a college frat party, and it was on. Now my new roomie was more serious about alcohol than any of us, and that was pretty hard to do in those daze. Serious enough that he would wait for the liquor store to open in the mornings to get something to steady his hands enough to hold his wrenches at work. So needless to say he was more than ready to help out with eliminating some of that evil alcohol.
Well the drunker we got the more we drank, and the more we drank, the taller the boots would have to be to wade through all of the bullshit being circulated. After several hours Fogo decides to reveal a secret fishing hole to us. Well I don't know about anybody else but I generally fish in the early morning. Ryan and Fogo decide to go fishin' in the middle of the night and did so. John and I were drunk but not that drunk, so they left, and we drank more, and had a few more laughs and basically passed out.
We were rudely awakened at about 11am by these clowns rolling back home, how they made it there or back is a wonder! And after Ryan tells us about Fogo building a campfire (it was still freezing out) he fell asleep and caught his freakin boots on fire. They got up and fished. And they came home with about 15 decent keeper trout, and we both were impressed. That is until Jim breaks out the biggest damn trout I had ever seen taken out of a river. It had to be 4 or 5 lbs. which is a damn big rainbow trout. We were amazed and surprised, we would be eatin fish for dinner. We thought we would anyway. After a few celebratory rounds I went back to sleep and left the other tree idiots to sleep or tell a few more fish stories or whatever I was hungover and sleepy. Apparently we all fell asleep, or so I thought. We awoke to some really foul language that assaulted us out of sleep and into the kitchen where Ryan was standing pissed off. His big rainbow was MIA. So was Fogo. We waited for hours figuring out exactly where said trout had parted to or more importantly where Mr. Fogo had slunk off to, we searched around the bars, just missing him every step and finding out that Fogo had caught this trout! At least that is what the asshole told anyone that would listen, and with that kind of a fish a lot of people listened to his story. He totally stole the fire and the fish, when we later found him he refused to admit he had stolen it! Even after a few lumps distributed by the angry Irish he claimed that the cat must have taken it out of the sink. The fish cleaned weighed more than the feline. We never found the fish, but we are pretty sure that Fogo in a grand attempt at ass kissing had delivered the trout to his boss as a gift trying to make points to cover his boozing problem. Months after in his 14th or 15th DUI Fogo T-boned a doctor in a new SUV and ended up in prison, we never talked again. But we did see that fishing hole quite a few more times and still visit, and rarely if ever get skunked, although we have never taken another Rainy out the likes of the one that got taken away.
Tuesday, November 02, 2004
Monday, November 01, 2004
HOW I ENDED UP IN LAKE TAHOE
Or my brush with the LAW
My story starts in spring 98 when I was evicted. I went and rented a Chevy s10 with a tonneu cover on back. For the purpose of hauling my stuff to storage, my brother asked if he could borrow it, and showed back 5 days later with 1000 miles racked up on the thing.
I was stuck I felt if I brought it back without money they would throw me in jail.
So I threw my coleman stove, bag, lantern and took off for the beach, Prior to all this I had a pretty bad addiction to meth and left to try and dis-associate myself with everyone in that circle. So I spent a month in Monterey bay area car camping because I had a friend nearby I could go to to take showers and get a real meal. I lived like that for a month and she told me they were going camping the following week at a lake up in the sierras. It was 30 miles up a dirt road and I set up camp on the lake and waited a week, they never showed up so after waiting another day for someone to give me a jump I took off back down, but when I called from Auburn and found out the kid got sick, I was close to Tahoe so I said what the hell I got nothing better to do, so I took off up here to my lake, I arrived at 3:30 pm at HARVEY'S and left Caesars -$600 at 5:30 am, broke, I decided to find the cheapest camp I could find, little did I know Bayview would be my home more than once (see prior story on blog), anyway I had a blast there camping and drinking lots of beer and encountering a bear that I came to know closely, I kicked it there for a little over a month, and one of the reasons I was drinking lot of beer, besides the obvious was that was although there was a faucet there but there was no water, it was the downfall of my criminal career. It was at a trailhead and across from the lookout at Emerald Bay and there were thirsty campers,and hikers,and gawkers aplenty so I devised a business plan went to K-mart and started buying cases of bottled water and loading my big ice chest and sit there and let the money come to me. Well all went well for a week or so and then a STAR patrol (which is a bunch of retired law enforcement boys and girls with nothing better to do) he rolled up and asked me if I had a business license, I say no but I will stop, I did until I saw his taillights going away. Well another week went by and here he comes again, this time I have no signs and am just sitting minding my own business next thing I know I am surrounded by sheriff,CHP,and forest service law enforcement,(or as they are lovingly refferred to TWIG PIGS),with guns drawn on this dumb old hippie...quick end to my criminal life, arrested for Grand Theft Auto I spent 91 days at greybar hotel for it plus 5 years probation, I would have gotten more but my record was clean except 2 DUI's in the 70s, and as my dear readers can see from previous storys(I will not say I have never done anything criminal, I just never got caught!) but during my stay my social security checks kept coming direct deposit and when released I had enough scratch to find myself a apartment and have not been off the hill since then exept the rare occaision (like a trip to Reno)
I am felonious.
I think I can get it reduced to misdemeanor but hate legal bullshit plus being the worlds champion procrastinator.
So that's how I ended up in paradise with a view, aka the world vortex for nutcases and snow people. yup it hasn't affected my life at all until it gets around election time and I can't voice my say. It makes me appreciate our system a little more, nothing is so fucked up in this country that it's people can not change. Unless they don't have a say.
Why are our days numbered and not... say... lettered?
Woody Allen
My story starts in spring 98 when I was evicted. I went and rented a Chevy s10 with a tonneu cover on back. For the purpose of hauling my stuff to storage, my brother asked if he could borrow it, and showed back 5 days later with 1000 miles racked up on the thing.
I was stuck I felt if I brought it back without money they would throw me in jail.
So I threw my coleman stove, bag, lantern and took off for the beach, Prior to all this I had a pretty bad addiction to meth and left to try and dis-associate myself with everyone in that circle. So I spent a month in Monterey bay area car camping because I had a friend nearby I could go to to take showers and get a real meal. I lived like that for a month and she told me they were going camping the following week at a lake up in the sierras. It was 30 miles up a dirt road and I set up camp on the lake and waited a week, they never showed up so after waiting another day for someone to give me a jump I took off back down, but when I called from Auburn and found out the kid got sick, I was close to Tahoe so I said what the hell I got nothing better to do, so I took off up here to my lake, I arrived at 3:30 pm at HARVEY'S and left Caesars -$600 at 5:30 am, broke, I decided to find the cheapest camp I could find, little did I know Bayview would be my home more than once (see prior story on blog), anyway I had a blast there camping and drinking lots of beer and encountering a bear that I came to know closely, I kicked it there for a little over a month, and one of the reasons I was drinking lot of beer, besides the obvious was that was although there was a faucet there but there was no water, it was the downfall of my criminal career. It was at a trailhead and across from the lookout at Emerald Bay and there were thirsty campers,and hikers,and gawkers aplenty so I devised a business plan went to K-mart and started buying cases of bottled water and loading my big ice chest and sit there and let the money come to me. Well all went well for a week or so and then a STAR patrol (which is a bunch of retired law enforcement boys and girls with nothing better to do) he rolled up and asked me if I had a business license, I say no but I will stop, I did until I saw his taillights going away. Well another week went by and here he comes again, this time I have no signs and am just sitting minding my own business next thing I know I am surrounded by sheriff,CHP,and forest service law enforcement,(or as they are lovingly refferred to TWIG PIGS),with guns drawn on this dumb old hippie...quick end to my criminal life, arrested for Grand Theft Auto I spent 91 days at greybar hotel for it plus 5 years probation, I would have gotten more but my record was clean except 2 DUI's in the 70s, and as my dear readers can see from previous storys(I will not say I have never done anything criminal, I just never got caught!) but during my stay my social security checks kept coming direct deposit and when released I had enough scratch to find myself a apartment and have not been off the hill since then exept the rare occaision (like a trip to Reno)
I am felonious.
I think I can get it reduced to misdemeanor but hate legal bullshit plus being the worlds champion procrastinator.
So that's how I ended up in paradise with a view, aka the world vortex for nutcases and snow people. yup it hasn't affected my life at all until it gets around election time and I can't voice my say. It makes me appreciate our system a little more, nothing is so fucked up in this country that it's people can not change. Unless they don't have a say.
Why are our days numbered and not... say... lettered?
Woody Allen
Friday, October 29, 2004
For the Blondie's
OK, Now I have a new "favorite" Blonde Joke.
Subject: The Millionaire
A contestant on "Who Wants to be a Millionaire?" had reached the final plateau. If she answered the next question correctly, she would win $1,000,000. If she answered incorrectly, she would pocket only the $32,000 milestone money.And as she suspected it would be, the million-dollar question was no pushover. It was, "Which of the following species of birds does not build its own nest, but instead lays its eggs in the nests of other birds? Is it A) the condor; B) the buzzard; C) the cuckoo; or D) the vulture?"The woman was on the spot. She did not know the answer. And she was doubly on the spot because she had used up her 50/50 Lifeline and her Audience Poll Lifeline. All that remained was her Phone-a-Friend Lifeline, and the woman had hoped against hope that she would! not have to use it. Mainly because the only friend that she knew would be home happened to be a blonde. But the contestant had no alternative. She called her friend and gave her the question and the four choices.The blonde responded unhesitatingly: "That's easy. The answer is C: The cuckoo."The contestant had to make a decision and make it fast. She considered employing a reverse strategy and giving Regis any answer except the one that her friend had given her. And considering that her friend was a blonde, which would seem to be the logical thing to do. On the other hand - the blonde had responded with such confidence, such certitude, that the contestant could not help but be persuaded."I need an answer," said Regis.Crossing her fingers, the contestant said, "C: The cuckoo.""Is that your final answer?" asked Regis."Yes, that is my final answer."Two minutes later, Regis said, "I regret to inform! you that that answer is.. absolutely correct. You are now a milli onaire!"Three days later, the contestant hosted a party for her family and friends - including the blonde who had helped her win the million dollars. "Jenny, I just do not know how to thank you," said the contestant. "Because of your knowing the answer to that final question, I am now a millionaire. And do you want to know something?It was the assuredness with which you answered the question that convinced me to go with your choice. By the way... how did you happen to know the right answer?""Oh, come on," said the blonde. "Everybody knows that cuckoos don't build nests They live in clocks."
Subject: The Millionaire
A contestant on "Who Wants to be a Millionaire?" had reached the final plateau. If she answered the next question correctly, she would win $1,000,000. If she answered incorrectly, she would pocket only the $32,000 milestone money.And as she suspected it would be, the million-dollar question was no pushover. It was, "Which of the following species of birds does not build its own nest, but instead lays its eggs in the nests of other birds? Is it A) the condor; B) the buzzard; C) the cuckoo; or D) the vulture?"The woman was on the spot. She did not know the answer. And she was doubly on the spot because she had used up her 50/50 Lifeline and her Audience Poll Lifeline. All that remained was her Phone-a-Friend Lifeline, and the woman had hoped against hope that she would! not have to use it. Mainly because the only friend that she knew would be home happened to be a blonde. But the contestant had no alternative. She called her friend and gave her the question and the four choices.The blonde responded unhesitatingly: "That's easy. The answer is C: The cuckoo."The contestant had to make a decision and make it fast. She considered employing a reverse strategy and giving Regis any answer except the one that her friend had given her. And considering that her friend was a blonde, which would seem to be the logical thing to do. On the other hand - the blonde had responded with such confidence, such certitude, that the contestant could not help but be persuaded."I need an answer," said Regis.Crossing her fingers, the contestant said, "C: The cuckoo.""Is that your final answer?" asked Regis."Yes, that is my final answer."Two minutes later, Regis said, "I regret to inform! you that that answer is.. absolutely correct. You are now a milli onaire!"Three days later, the contestant hosted a party for her family and friends - including the blonde who had helped her win the million dollars. "Jenny, I just do not know how to thank you," said the contestant. "Because of your knowing the answer to that final question, I am now a millionaire. And do you want to know something?It was the assuredness with which you answered the question that convinced me to go with your choice. By the way... how did you happen to know the right answer?""Oh, come on," said the blonde. "Everybody knows that cuckoos don't build nests They live in clocks."
ONCE UPON A TIME...
OR AN EXERCISE OF STUPIDITY:
There was me, my brother, and a person who has requested that his name not be used, wink wink. I won't say how but on a beautiful summer afternoon, He showed up at my door after climbing trees all day, with a credit card. At first I tried to talk him out of using it, but between he and my bro, temptation got the better of me and I threw in with these fools once again. After putting our heads together we decided to run a test and sent my brother to the store with card in hand, he chickened out and came back empty handed. Well he explained he had never done anything like this before and got nervous, with a little coaxing from he and I, we convinced him to go back. This time he went to a different store and with a little flirting with the little blond clerk, he returned with two handles of tequila and three cartons of cigarettes, which we proceeded to consume.
Now one handle is 1.75 liters of alcohol, so with two it wasn't long before there were three very shitfaced idiots. By this time it was time for dinner and we lit out for the Brewery for pizza and several pitchers of Bad Ass Ale I came up with a brilliant idea.
I had not lived in Tahoe for too long back then and was right next to the stateline Nevada, Nevada has legalized prostitution, we had a apparently limitless card, we called the Moonlight Bunny Ranch, and they sent a car from Carson to pick us up. In the mean time I had noticed that our friend was very smelly, dirty, and covered in sawdust. I told him to go jump in the shower, and was told they are just hookers so don't worry. I replied that I was told once to "Treat a whore like a Lady, and treat a Lady like a whore" if you expect any action.
Well the guy rolled up and off we went.
We arrived at the Bunny Ranch (which is world famous for the talent within) at about 1am and went inside, I picked the tallest redhead in the joint and went back to her room to take care of what needed to be taken care of if you know what I mean...when my hour was up I went out to the bar (in Nevada you can drink at 5am if you want) and there he was sitting at the bar by himself. As I saddled up next to him I overheard this absolutely stunning blonde walk up and say "You are a very handsome man! But you smell, and you are filthy, and you are full of sawdust. And none of the girls want anything to do with you". Well a few minutes later my younger brother strolls back into the bar with a definite smile of satisfaction on his face, and after one more round (one of us was cut off at this point, can you guess who?) and off we were, chauffeured home, as the sun peeped over the mountains, waking up the Carson Valley.
Once again I swear this is all true. And he is the only man I have ever heard of that went to a whore house, and didn't get laid.
P.S. And we never got caught!
There was me, my brother, and a person who has requested that his name not be used, wink wink. I won't say how but on a beautiful summer afternoon, He showed up at my door after climbing trees all day, with a credit card. At first I tried to talk him out of using it, but between he and my bro, temptation got the better of me and I threw in with these fools once again. After putting our heads together we decided to run a test and sent my brother to the store with card in hand, he chickened out and came back empty handed. Well he explained he had never done anything like this before and got nervous, with a little coaxing from he and I, we convinced him to go back. This time he went to a different store and with a little flirting with the little blond clerk, he returned with two handles of tequila and three cartons of cigarettes, which we proceeded to consume.
Now one handle is 1.75 liters of alcohol, so with two it wasn't long before there were three very shitfaced idiots. By this time it was time for dinner and we lit out for the Brewery for pizza and several pitchers of Bad Ass Ale I came up with a brilliant idea.
I had not lived in Tahoe for too long back then and was right next to the stateline Nevada, Nevada has legalized prostitution, we had a apparently limitless card, we called the Moonlight Bunny Ranch, and they sent a car from Carson to pick us up. In the mean time I had noticed that our friend was very smelly, dirty, and covered in sawdust. I told him to go jump in the shower, and was told they are just hookers so don't worry. I replied that I was told once to "Treat a whore like a Lady, and treat a Lady like a whore" if you expect any action.
Well the guy rolled up and off we went.
We arrived at the Bunny Ranch (which is world famous for the talent within) at about 1am and went inside, I picked the tallest redhead in the joint and went back to her room to take care of what needed to be taken care of if you know what I mean...when my hour was up I went out to the bar (in Nevada you can drink at 5am if you want) and there he was sitting at the bar by himself. As I saddled up next to him I overheard this absolutely stunning blonde walk up and say "You are a very handsome man! But you smell, and you are filthy, and you are full of sawdust. And none of the girls want anything to do with you". Well a few minutes later my younger brother strolls back into the bar with a definite smile of satisfaction on his face, and after one more round (one of us was cut off at this point, can you guess who?) and off we were, chauffeured home, as the sun peeped over the mountains, waking up the Carson Valley.
Once again I swear this is all true. And he is the only man I have ever heard of that went to a whore house, and didn't get laid.
P.S. And we never got caught!
Wednesday, October 20, 2004
The Naked Tree Chopper!
The following is a true occurance and has not been embellished in any way!
Well I have told this story many times but never thought I would put it down in print: what follows happened almost three years ago, and is as funny now as it was then.
My best friend Jim Ryan was working as a fire fighter with forestry service at the time and had just met the future mother of his son. We had spent several hours at Kiva beach and had consumed mass quantities of beer(we could both put it away back in those days) and on arriving back at his house a arguement ensued between Ryan an TyVera, he came storming out to the truck and asked to get some more beer (like we needed it) and we proceeded to the liquor store, well Ty followed us and while Ryan was in the store she stole his fire boots out of the warthog. Upon discovering this Mr. Ryan goes into a rage( to fight fires requires a pair of good boots and a pager to be on call ) and goes back in and gets a quart of Jack Daniels ( former beverage of choice ) and we go up to Twin Peaks 4x4 trail and drove up to what is referred to as the Stair Steps, I didn't have a spare at the time and stopped there at the bottom. We started in on the wisky and were sitting on a big log. Jim gets my axe from the hog and walks over to a fairly large pine and starts chopping on it, trying to discourage this I say "you would look pretty stupid if Forestry rolled up and you were choppin a tree in your Crew 19 t shirt" and I briefly looked away and as I glanced back he had stripped of all his clothes and continued chopping in his Yankees cap as if nothing changed. Oh my god! I fell to the ground laughing, I have never laughed so hard for so long in my life! Absoultely the funniest thing I have ever witnessed bar none! I sat and watched and laughed until my sides hurt and I couldnt breathe.
After recuperating and realizing I had no idea where this tree was going to fall (or when) decided to move the hog out of the truck crushing zone, and pulled down the trail a few hundred yards. At around nightfall I noticed three sets of headlights coming up the road.
I guess Jim noticed them too because I turned around and he was gone, like a naked bigfoot, out in the forest (found out later he was hiding behind some rocks listening to everything). So three countie mounties show up and here I am alone near a severely damaged pine tree. They claim that someone reported a tree being chopped, but Jim still had the axe and his baseball cap. I said I don't know nothin' they said we think you do and tossed the A-10 looking for a chopping implement and upon finding nothing but Ryans clothes and a empty bottle they put their little heads together and decided to write me a FEDERAL ticket for defacing forestry property (which I never received a summons for! Sarge probably threw it out for lack of proof) and told me to get the hell out of there, which I gladly did. I boogied on down that road rapidly. Laughing all the way back to town. I stopped at the first pay phone and called TyVera and she was all like "What am I supposed to do?" and I said I'd go back except if they saw my truck again it would be Greybar Hotel for me..
Well we met up and drove back out there and after hearing the story we were both in tears laughing again. Well we had the dog running point and Bob Marley blasting from her truck hoping he would hear us, we searched about an hour,driving all the roads around there and not finding him went back home. When we pulled up to Ty's there he was still buck-ass, sitting in a lawn chair with a stolen towel in his lap.
I can't tell you his story of making his way back along the back-country forest or the razor wire fence or the creeping along the backstreets of Gardener Mountain wearing nothing but a smile (he lost his beloved Yankee hat somewhere between there and home) except to say he had us back in stiches again for another half an hour.
Well that is the God's honest truth and nothing more!
Well I have told this story many times but never thought I would put it down in print: what follows happened almost three years ago, and is as funny now as it was then.
My best friend Jim Ryan was working as a fire fighter with forestry service at the time and had just met the future mother of his son. We had spent several hours at Kiva beach and had consumed mass quantities of beer(we could both put it away back in those days) and on arriving back at his house a arguement ensued between Ryan an TyVera, he came storming out to the truck and asked to get some more beer (like we needed it) and we proceeded to the liquor store, well Ty followed us and while Ryan was in the store she stole his fire boots out of the warthog. Upon discovering this Mr. Ryan goes into a rage( to fight fires requires a pair of good boots and a pager to be on call ) and goes back in and gets a quart of Jack Daniels ( former beverage of choice ) and we go up to Twin Peaks 4x4 trail and drove up to what is referred to as the Stair Steps, I didn't have a spare at the time and stopped there at the bottom. We started in on the wisky and were sitting on a big log. Jim gets my axe from the hog and walks over to a fairly large pine and starts chopping on it, trying to discourage this I say "you would look pretty stupid if Forestry rolled up and you were choppin a tree in your Crew 19 t shirt" and I briefly looked away and as I glanced back he had stripped of all his clothes and continued chopping in his Yankees cap as if nothing changed. Oh my god! I fell to the ground laughing, I have never laughed so hard for so long in my life! Absoultely the funniest thing I have ever witnessed bar none! I sat and watched and laughed until my sides hurt and I couldnt breathe.
After recuperating and realizing I had no idea where this tree was going to fall (or when) decided to move the hog out of the truck crushing zone, and pulled down the trail a few hundred yards. At around nightfall I noticed three sets of headlights coming up the road.
I guess Jim noticed them too because I turned around and he was gone, like a naked bigfoot, out in the forest (found out later he was hiding behind some rocks listening to everything). So three countie mounties show up and here I am alone near a severely damaged pine tree. They claim that someone reported a tree being chopped, but Jim still had the axe and his baseball cap. I said I don't know nothin' they said we think you do and tossed the A-10 looking for a chopping implement and upon finding nothing but Ryans clothes and a empty bottle they put their little heads together and decided to write me a FEDERAL ticket for defacing forestry property (which I never received a summons for! Sarge probably threw it out for lack of proof) and told me to get the hell out of there, which I gladly did. I boogied on down that road rapidly. Laughing all the way back to town. I stopped at the first pay phone and called TyVera and she was all like "What am I supposed to do?" and I said I'd go back except if they saw my truck again it would be Greybar Hotel for me..
Well we met up and drove back out there and after hearing the story we were both in tears laughing again. Well we had the dog running point and Bob Marley blasting from her truck hoping he would hear us, we searched about an hour,driving all the roads around there and not finding him went back home. When we pulled up to Ty's there he was still buck-ass, sitting in a lawn chair with a stolen towel in his lap.
I can't tell you his story of making his way back along the back-country forest or the razor wire fence or the creeping along the backstreets of Gardener Mountain wearing nothing but a smile (he lost his beloved Yankee hat somewhere between there and home) except to say he had us back in stiches again for another half an hour.
Well that is the God's honest truth and nothing more!
Monday, October 18, 2004
Naked man strikes Again!
Well a year went by and...
This is also without embellishment! We have a little ritual Jim & I every so often we get a wild hair and drive to Reno, usually once or twice a year. We generally drink way too much and end up frequenting some of the talent at Reno's finest strip clubs (or titty bars as it is) and either stay in a room in town or as in this case sober up enough to drive home without getting a DUI. Anyway last time we held this little ritual I was almost sober (kinda like almost pregnant I guess) and headed out of town via Virginia street and just as we get onto 395 from Reno to Carson City (state capitol of Nevada ) I am rolling along in the warthog paying attention to driving, mind you that I own a '73 k5 blazer with a removable top, and as it was still summer it was a giant convertible. I look over and Mr. Ryan once again had removed all of his clothing and was touting the experience of a breeze of wind at 65+mph on his nether regions, and once again I was in stitches laughing again, this crazy bastard was naked as the day he was born and no matter what I said he would not put his clothes back on! So as long as I was clothed I really didn't give a damn whether he put is clothes back on or not! Thank God I wasn't pulled over by the NHP.
Well to make a short story shorter, the fool sat in the passenger seat all the way through the capitol without a stitch, and probably would have gone all the way back to the Lake like that, except for the fact as we were rolling down 395 we hadn't encountered any big rigs, that is until we went through Carson and one appeared ahead of us. I then reminded him that most 18 wheelers have radios and would love to report something like that to all who would listen,especially law enforcement! And as quick as he took em off they were back on again! None the wiser except for yours truly, who promised at the time that I would tell every living soul who would listen, and laugh of course! Well that's my story and every word is true, I swear on my mothers crypt! He is the only man I know that has been driven through the state capitol, any capitol anywhere!
This is also without embellishment! We have a little ritual Jim & I every so often we get a wild hair and drive to Reno, usually once or twice a year. We generally drink way too much and end up frequenting some of the talent at Reno's finest strip clubs (or titty bars as it is) and either stay in a room in town or as in this case sober up enough to drive home without getting a DUI. Anyway last time we held this little ritual I was almost sober (kinda like almost pregnant I guess) and headed out of town via Virginia street and just as we get onto 395 from Reno to Carson City (state capitol of Nevada ) I am rolling along in the warthog paying attention to driving, mind you that I own a '73 k5 blazer with a removable top, and as it was still summer it was a giant convertible. I look over and Mr. Ryan once again had removed all of his clothing and was touting the experience of a breeze of wind at 65+mph on his nether regions, and once again I was in stitches laughing again, this crazy bastard was naked as the day he was born and no matter what I said he would not put his clothes back on! So as long as I was clothed I really didn't give a damn whether he put is clothes back on or not! Thank God I wasn't pulled over by the NHP.
Well to make a short story shorter, the fool sat in the passenger seat all the way through the capitol without a stitch, and probably would have gone all the way back to the Lake like that, except for the fact as we were rolling down 395 we hadn't encountered any big rigs, that is until we went through Carson and one appeared ahead of us. I then reminded him that most 18 wheelers have radios and would love to report something like that to all who would listen,especially law enforcement! And as quick as he took em off they were back on again! None the wiser except for yours truly, who promised at the time that I would tell every living soul who would listen, and laugh of course! Well that's my story and every word is true, I swear on my mothers crypt! He is the only man I know that has been driven through the state capitol, any capitol anywhere!
Friday, October 15, 2004
All's well that ends well
ain't it the truth?Well later that day after being so engrossed in what I was doing online I failed to notice the smoke, suddenly it was so thick that you couldn't see a quarter mile! It is from a fire down hiway 50 over Echo summit in Kyburz about 30 miles away as the crow flies. As a resident of Lake Tahoe I am extremely aware of the danger here in the forest surrounding our beautiful lake. There hasn't been a major blaze here for many many years, and old timers say we are overdue for a big one. The forest service is doing a fair job of thinning but thanks to King George budgets have been gouged. I guess all we can do is have faith in the creator of this splendor I suppose.
Well I am climbing down off the soap box for the evening...PEACE!
Well I am climbing down off the soap box for the evening...PEACE!
So Far, So Good, So what!
After a unusually restful slumber I got up, dressed, chatted with my new friend Rita, and then went to Rude Brother's for the usual, a breakfast burrito and 2 large coffees. While I was sitting outside listening to some Coltrane my buddy Geoff came up and said he ran out of gas. As the gas gauge in my warthog is broken I know what it is like, so I ran him to a gas station and then back to his van. That was my good deed for today.
My friend Laura and her husband just left, I lost touch with her about 2 years ago and we just recently caught up again, her hubby has had 2 brain surgerys for anurisims and is now mentally about 13, she is going nuts taking care of him as she has to mind him like a child. She was basically begging me to come over so she can talk with an adult (her words), I met her through he ex while I was visiting the Greybar Hotel, she was my first real friend up here and I will do anything I can to help her. I could see the pain and stress in her face and especially her eyes, they used to be so bright!
Thursday, October 14, 2004
Another Day in Paradise
It is the end of the day and all is well in my world, after coffee at Rude Brothers, I cruised back home and was pleasantly surprised to find a IM from someone I had sent a note to in the personals. After chatting online a bit, we actually had a conversation on the phone! Certainly sounds promising, hope so, I am tired of being alone all the time! After lighting a fire and watching The Day After Tomorrow, I got another bite from the personals. So all in all it has been a good day!!
FIRSTLY
ok this my first post. my first attempt at putting down my thoughts to share with other people. my life is pretty boring so i'm not sure how this is going to go....
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