Okay, so now that I have been doing this for about a month and a half, I figured I really should start writing about it. It’s just been burning me up inside.
Remember that post a while back where I said that I had found a nice “exercise” class up in Glastonbury (or I was looking for one anyway)? Well, that exercise class is actually Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. If you aren’t familiar with what Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu is, you can do a quick read-up over here on Wikipedia.
Also, if you forgot what got me all motivated about this in the first place, you can re-read my “How To Develop Stamina” post. That will refresh your memory with how frustrated I get with myself.
Anyway, as I mentioned in that earlier post, I have this never ending quest to get in shape. One of the major problems with this quest is that I am getting older and my body is slowly falling apart. Don’t laugh, you are in the same boat. Ha. The rule book my parents gave me when I was born didn’t mention anything about how I was going to have to work harder and harder at getting fit as I get older and older. I am thinking they decided to keep that one to themselves and are now getting a little chuckle out of it.
Now, let me tell you that by no means am I out of shape. I am actually feeling pretty good. I just want to be able to run a marathon tomorrow and not feel it. Yeah right. Laura keeps reminding me that people actually train for that kind of stuff. Either way, continuing to think that I am out of shape keeps me motivated.
At the time I was writing that “Stamina” post, I was actually looking for a martial arts class to join in on. I had always wanted to learn martial arts and even gave it a try when I was a kid. I think I’ll save that story for another post, because I took my one free class with three of my friends and things didn’t turn out too well. That’s what happens when you put four giggly idiots in a class with a bunch of guys who could damage us. It was actually really funny…to us. Anyway…
I first sat in on a Taekwondo class here in town. It looked really good, but I just didn’t get the vibe I was looking for in it. One of the main factors that dissuaded me was the fact that there were kids in the class. I was looking for something more mature. It looked like everyone in the class was learning a lot, but I just didn’t think I would fit in.
Next, I went up to visit a Karate school in Glastonbury. I had watched a bunch of videos from this school on the internet and was pretty excited. When I got to the school, no one was there. I actually stood in the lobby and called the place on my cell phone. I heard the office phone ringing and I hung up. I took a quick look around and noticed that this school also really targeted kids. I guess this martial arts thing is really popular with the youngsters. Oh well. I left.
To make a long story short, I started looking into Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu and started liking what I was learning about it. If you look at the Wikipedia page I linked to above and have watched any of the videos that I have posted, I think you’ll know why. To me, it’s challenging, smart, fun, great exercise and a very handy tool to have in your back pocket.
I found a nice school that teaches Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu up in Glastonbury. I called the owner and was invited up to sit in on a class. Now, mind you I have never really been to a Jiu-Jitsu class before, so I didn’t know what to expect. He mentioned that I could wear sweats or something to move around in, but I opted to wear jeans because I didn’t even know if I was going to be interested in what they offered. I just sat on the side and observed.
The night I sat in on the class, I learned that this was actually something I was really eager to get involved with. If you took a really quick glace at Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu (BJJ), you might think it looks like high school wrestling. The difference between BJJ and wrestling is that in wrestling, you try to pin your opponent and in BJJ, you go for a submission, such as an arm bar, leg lock or a choke. Also, BJJ has a more practical side and can be used as self defense.
After a month and a half of pretty fast paced training, I would say that I have been bitten by the bug. My instructor actually was laughing about that this morning. As I was laying on the mat sweating, I reminded him that I didn’t even know what BJJ was two months ago.
The school I train at offers three classes a week. I haven’t missed any yet. My instructor and another guy also like to train one to two extra days per week. I go with them any time they ask me. I usually end up going in four times a week and sometimes five, like I did last week. It’s really, really good exercise, but I will admit, my body gets tired. I just need to get used to it.
For the first two weeks, I gotta tell you, I was kind of in pain. I had a few back spasms and my muscles wanted to strangle me for what I was doing to them. I thought I was down and out for a few classes when I had the spasms, but I still went in and worked it out. Believe it or not, practicing BJJ is sort of like going to the chiropractor. You go in with a back problem and come out cured. It’s amazing what someone stacking you will do for your back muscles.
Since then, things have been going rather smoothly. I purchased a new gi, a mouth guard and some knee pads. These things have come in really handy, especially the knee pads and mouth guard. I was watching a video a few weeks ago and the trainer was attempting to express how important mouth guards are. He then pulled out his front teeth to let the point sink in. He told the class that he lost all of his front teeth the very first time he went to train. I bought the mouth guard after I saw that video.
During the month and a half that I have been learning Jiu Jitsu, I have noticed some pretty nice changes. Firstly, I look a bit better muscle-wise. Things look more toned. Also, I can see my abs again. I never thought that would happen. I’m not sure if my stomach muscles have been built up more or if I lost weight. Either way, my good ol’ college six-pack is starting to show again. I think the real secret lies behind the creatine and soy protein though. Those supplements helped a lot in college and continue to help tremendously now.
I really wish you could see me spar with the guys in the class. You would probably get a kick out of it. It’s amazing how much I have learned in just a month and a half, but it definitely shows how much I have to learn. But, like anything else I get myself into, it’s pretty much a life long trip.
I had considered writing all about the different moves I learn here on this blog, but then thought better of it. I can well imagine that most of my readers really don’t know or care what a “Scissor Sweep” is. Well, if you do care what it is, check out this video for a demonstration.
You know, now that I put that video up, I am realizing how I can actually post a video for every move I learn. If I put a video up with some text, you guys won’t get bored and I will be learning something too. Hmmm.
Okay, I am outty. I just thought I would share the reason I haven’t been writing all that much lately. I have been so busy with this and work. Till next time.
When my parents were up visiting a few weeks ago, they brought up the idea of going out to get some ice cream. I thought it was a great idea…I just didn’t know where any ice cream places were. I think there are a few Friendlys around, but that’s not the kind of ice cream place they were talking about.
The other night, after our walk, Laura and I decided to get in the car and drive to the next town over to see if there were any obvious ice cream places. If there were, we were going to pull over to eat some. Unfortunately, there weren’t any. It’s odd, there’s a nice lake and a little bit of a vibe. Strange that there’s no ice cream places.
A few hours later, I decided to hop online and look for a famous ice cream place I heard about at Uconn. I didn’t know the name of it, but after a while, I found the one that my friend had told me about. It’s called the “Uconn Dairy Bar.”
Uconn has a big agricultural school and I guess part of that school is making superb ice cream for their students to enjoy. Well, not just their students…people from all over.
Now, you know that once I found the ice cream place over at Uconn, I put a little visit to just that spot on my agenda. We went over yesterday and enjoyed some ice cream. Laura got the pistachio and I got half vanilla and half strawberry. It was pretty damn good.
On Saturday, while driving around Glastonbury with my parents, we accidentally came across a local farm. We love these local farms because we never know what we are going to find in them. Since we were with my parents, I decided to pull in. I thought they would get a kick out of it.
As we started walking around, I got the strange sense that I was going to have to soon pull out my wallet. It’s funny…the same thing always happens. I think we are just going to take a nice stroll through these places, but later on find myself loading up the back of the car with all different types of plants.
This time wasn’t too bad. We bought a few packets of seeds; Cucumber, Squash, Beans and Zucchini. We bought anything that can be planted in late Spring. I really wanted the Peas, but the lady told me that Peas like cool weather and that I was too late to plant this year. Yesterday, I planted what we bought in some 5-gallon buckets on the back porch.
The seeds were exciting, but the real champ of the day was our award winning Everbearing Strawberry Plants. We bought this huge hanging planter with three Everbearing Strawberry Plants planted in it. We currently have the whole thing hanging on the back porch.
Everbearing Strawberry Plants
Growing Strawberries and Strawberry flowers
From what I read about Strawberry plants, it’s good to plant three near each other. That way, they can get sufficiently pollinated.
You have to see this thing; it’s huge. There are so many flowers and Strawberries that are beginning to grow. While purchasing this plant, I asked if it was a perennial. The lady told me that it was an annual, but that it’s everbearing, meaning that it produces fruit the entire season. I found that appealing, since we really like Strawberries.
On our way to the restaurant, we passed a little sign that said something like “State Park Campgrounds.” My parents have a long history of camping, so they really wanted to pull in to see what was going on. I was driving down a kind of busy road, so when we saw the next sign that said, “Mashamoquet Brook State Park Entrance,” they were only too happy to pull in there. I am glad we did, because we discovered a neat new state park with an awesome trail system. There are rivers and lakes and trails all over the place. We have to add this park on our growing list of great Connecticut state parks to hike in.
I took some photos for you to browse through.
Man-made pond at Mashamoquet Brook State Park in Pomfret, CT
Man-made pond at Mashamoquet Brook State Park in Pomfret, CT – view 2
Looking down the road at Mashamoquet Brook State Park in Pomfret, CT
This must be Mashamoquet Brook in Pomfret, CT
Some sort of snake that tried to attack me
Mashamoquet Brook in Pomfret, CT
Some wild flowers mixed in with grass
Sign for hiking trails and Mashamoquet campgrounds
Boy, it’s been a busy few days. My parents landed at the Bradley International Airport, North of Hartford at about 12:30AM, Thursday morning. Laura and I got there at around midnight, so we had a hang around for a few minutes. It wasn’t too bad. Strangely enough, you get to watch some very interesting people while waiting outside an airport.
A few months ago, when my mother and I agreed on this trip, I had a whole itinerary planned out. We were going to go here and we were going to go there. Then, Laura and I went on that little trip to Stonington. It was during that trip that I remembered that I really don’t enjoy driving as much as I used to. I mean, short trips here and there are okay, but the long ones I can do without. Remembering this, I started planning to visit places that were just a tad bit closer than the ones I had previously planned to visit.
On Thursday, we all hopped in the car and drove up to the Red Lion Inn, in Stockbridge, MA. You all know that Laura and I have been there a lot, but my parents never have. I thought I would spare you the photos, since you have seen a million of them already. We had a nice lunch and I even let my father beat me at a game of chess.
On Friday, we had a great time up at the Sharpe Hill Vineyard in Pomfret, CT. None of us had been there before, so we really didn’t know what to expect. Luckily, we were all very pleasantly surprised. I think I heard the phrase, “You know, we could be in Italy right now and you wouldn’t know the difference” more than once.
For those of you who don’t know, Pomfret is up in the “Quiet Corner” of Connecticut. It’s a really cool place that brings you back to the good ol’ days. It’s peaceful, beautiful and best of all, nobody from Hartford tailgates you all the way down the road. Wow.
The Sharpe Hill Vineyard offers two different tastings; they differ based on amount of wine consumed. The first tasting costs $5 and you get to taste five types of wines. Actually, you can taste five of the same wines. They don’t mind. The second tasting offers eleven types of wines for $10. We chose the $5 one because I didn’t want to get tipsy in the middle of the day. Neither did anyone else. We were all very happy with our five choices.
I took a whole bunch of photos, so you can see what the vineyard looks like. It’s really nice and they even had a restaurant. Unfortunately, we were unable to eat there because reservations are taken three weeks ahead of time. Maybe Laura and I will have to make reservations to check out the food.
Here are the photos:
Parking lot of Sharpe Hill Vineyard
Looking past wooden fence up into the vineyard at Sharpe Hill
Purple and yellow Pansies
Purple Pansies with yellow center
Entrance to Sharpe Hill Vineyard
Different view of Sharpe Hill Vineyard parking lot
Up Close photo of purple and yellow Pansies
Tasting room door leading out to the back deck – Sharpe Hill Vineyard
Looking past a table up into the vineyard in mid Spring
Sharpe Hill table area – view 1
Sharpe Hill table area – view 2
Sharpe Hill table area – view 3
Leading off lounge area toward the dining room entrance
Again, looking up towards the vineyard
Sharpe Hill Vineyard dining room entrance
Sharpe Hill Vineyard
Clay frog and a little metal dog sitting on grass
Vines growing very young grapes
Walking up the vineyard
Up close photo of a grape vine at Sharpe Hill Vineyard
This is a humorous little story. Well, it’s humorous now that the whole little shopping ordeal is over, but it wasn’t earlier in the day yesterday.
Okay, my parents are coming up to visit. This is pretty exciting because they haven’t been to the house yet. Also, they are now southerners, so they totally forget what the North looks like…well, maybe not. Anyway, they will be here in just a few weeks and up until yesterday, they had no where to sleep.
We have been meaning to get a bed for the guest bedroom for about a year now. We really need one and every house should have one. We have already had two people stay over and they both had to sleep on the couch (one at a time). I really didn’t care that those two people slept on the couch, but I can’t expect my parents to sleep there. After all, they are very special people. You know, come to think of it…I’m still waiting for my father to come over and turn the lights on and off and on and off and jump on the couch all day. He used to threaten to do that to me when I was a kid. That’s right, he used to tell me that he was going to come over to where I was living and leave the doors wide open and the lights on all day. I guess he was trying to teach me a lesson.
Back to the bed. Buying a bed that you don’t need is probably one of the most annoying things a person can do. Beds are expensive and having an expensive bed sitting in a room that you don’t use is just ridiculous. Trust me, I thought of all different ways to get out of this. I considered getting a futon, considered getting a new bed for us and moving our old one in the guest bedroom and considered putting my parents up in a hotel. I know, I know, we needed the bed anyway. Putting them in a hotel wouldn’t solve the problem of housing future guests.
I put this project off for such a long time. It’s amazing; I am finally going to the dentist every six months, but I can’t find my way into a mattress store for the life of me. Well, yesterday was the day that we dragged ourselves out of the house and drove up to Sleepy’s in Manchester. We were just going to look, because I had a plan.
After college, when I lived in Atlanta, I wanted one thing. I wanted a real bed. I slept in some pretty bad conditions while at college and all I wanted was to sleep in a nice queen size bed with a Simmons Beautyrest mattress, just like my friend had. I liked his mattress. It had those independently pocketed coils and it was really comfortable. When I moved down south, one of the first things I did was to order that mattress. Well, 10 years came and went last year and that mattress began making our backs ache. We ordered a new mattress. Our new mattress is okay, but nothing special. It’s only a year old and is fairly comfortable.
I spent some time doing a little mattress research online before we went up to Sleepy’s. My plan was to go into the store, lay down on a good number of beds and then take off, only to buy one online. I had a hunch that I could get a bed cheaper by ordering it from 1-800-mattress or something like that. After all, I think I got the whole Simmons Beautyrest bed set from them for a little over $400 back eleven years ago. How much can they be now?
We walked into the Sleepy’s store and instantly found the Simmons Beautyrest beds. We layed down on a few of them and Laura picked out two she liked. Then, the sales guy came over. He started talking about the benefits of sleep and all that. I put my hand up to stop him before he even got started. I told him that we were only looking for a queen size bed set for a guest room. It doesn’t have to be all that great, but it does need those independently pocketed coils. I am simply hung up on them.
Oh yeah, I also told him my budget was $650. Yeah, that’s $650 I really did not want to spend.
He showed us a few of the cheaper beds. Actually, the cheapest bed set was $999 and it was pretty cheap. I thought $999 was a lot of money, but I guess it’s really not in the bedding world. Now, $8000 is a lot. If you spent a grand for a bed ten years ago, you were living like a king.
Somehow, my plan of just trying out a few beds and leaving was forgotten. I got all wrapped up in trying to negotiate a cheaper price for a cheap bed. Unfortunately, the lowest this guy would go was $999. There was nothing in the store for less.
As we were laying on all these beds in total comfort, the wheels in my mind started turning. I started picturing myself sleeping on a nice luxurious bed, like there were so many of in this particular store.
As time went on, I get the feeling that the sales guy and I were coming to some sort of an agreement about purchasing a bed set. I know he knew that I really didn’t want to spend much money, but he also saw my face when I was trying out some of the beds. I was very non-committal…I wouldn’t put my feet up. I would sort of lay halfway on the bed while trying to figure out if it was comfortable or not. There was a wide variety of comfort available.
You know, beds have come a long way these past few years. There are all sorts of pillowtop, folding, vibrating, shaking and some even have little arms that come out of the sides to rub your belly if you want. Okay, that last one was a stretch. Seriously though, some of these beds are really, really comfortable.
In Sleepy’s, there is this air mattress that the customer can lay on that is hooked to a computer. It allegedly calibrates something-or-other and spits out a piece of paper that tells you what “color” firmness or softness you are. I was a green and Laura was a blue. We were very close to one another. We probably would have picked those colors anyway because the firm mattresses are really hard and the soft ones are like couch cushions.
As time went on, we found ourselves laying more and more on the “Kingsdown- Sleep to Live” brand of mattress. There was something different about these mattresses. They provided some serious comfort. The sales guy was only too happy to discuss the benefits of the Sleep To Live brand of mattress with us.
As I lay on the queen size, semi-firm Sleep To Live mattress, I envisioned myself setting this exact bed set up in the bedroom…just not the guest bedroom. I mean, since our current mattress is only a year old, what’s the harm of sliding that into the guest bedroom and having us sleep on something new and luxurious? I mean really. The bad part was that the prices kept going higher and higher as I moved on to better mattresses.
I don’t know what came over me, but at some point in the day, I found myself asking the sales guy about the price differences between the king size bed sets and the queen. A few hundred bucks. Hmmm.
Okay guys, I am going to make a long story short and tell you that we now have a new Sleep To Live, king size mattress set, a new king size sheet set and a new bed frame set up in the bedroom…not the guest bedroom.
I always wanted a king size bed. We slept on it last night and I think it was nice. I can’t get past the part of how I feel like I don’t deserve to be laying on something so nice. I probably don’t deserve it; no one does. It’s bedding gluttony, pure and simple.
I will tell you that I did a tremendous amount of negotiating for this bed. I know certainly well that Sleepy’s is not selling too many bed sets these days and I took advantage of that. As I was going through my normal routine of chewing the guy down, he kept asking me if I wanted to finance everything. Finance it? I almost asked him if he was serious. Who in the world finances a bed? Where I come from, if you can’t afford a nice bed, you sleep on a not-so-nice one. What has this world turned into where companies offer financing for mattresses? Remember, I’m the guy who used to use a 5-gallon bucket as a chair and slept on some used mattress on the floor back in college. I mean, c’mon.
I’m back. I would offer up a picture of the new bed, but it is not made right now. Perhaps I will take a picture of it when we get a new headboard.
I knew I was on to something. It’s like I can foresee the future; it’s a gift.
I came across an article this morning that talks about how social websites can actually harm the brains of youngsters. Can you believe it? I’m just glad I got out when I did.
I was lying in bed last night at around 12:30 just thinking about the ins and outs of life. I turned to my side and noticed that one of the backyard motion detector lights had clicked on. They aren’t too difficult to notice…they basically make the window shades in the bedroom glow.
Over the Summer, I set three of these lights up for safe keeping. Who knows what happens in this backyard during the overnight and I felt that perhaps these lights would scare away the wolves if they attempt to peek in the windows.
I rolled out of bed, walked over to the window and pulled on the shade string. I looked down to the porch and didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Then, to my left, another motion detector clicked on. I gave a quick glance, but didn’t see anything there either. I became slightly curious. I scanned slowly from right to left and then I saw it. Our very short friend had appeared again.
Apparently, the neighborhood has a cat that likes to make little pit stops here from time to time. He or she is a semi-long haired black and white one. The cat was walking towards the driveway, minding its own business when I saw it, so I decided to close the shade to get some sleep.
I remember a time over the Summer when this cat decided to stop by to sun itself on the front walkway. He or she was probably here for over an hour, just laying on the warm walkway the way cats do. Very cute.
Back to last night. Just as I went for the shade string to close the shade, I glanced over to the right again. I saw little flickers in the beam of the spotlight. I felt a gentle tingle in my stomach because what I thought I was witnessing was our first snow. This, of course, was through very tired eyes.
Here are a few photos of what we woke up to this morning.
Snow on driveway
Snow in the back woods
Do you know what’s nice about snow? Well, I’ll tell you. It makes everything brighter. You can’t miss it because everything in the house comes alive during the morning of a fresh snow fall.
Laura woke up about an hour before I did. After I got out of bed and stumbled down the stairs, we stood in the kitchen talking. I said, “Hey, did you see that it snowed last night?” She just gave me a look.
A few days ago, I was doing all sorts of work inside. I was running around like crazy. The sun was shining outside, but going down fast. This time of year makes you feel like the sun is setting before you even hop out of bed in the morning. I guess it could be with the way it hangs so low in the sky all day. I’ll admit, it gets on my nerves at times.
At about 2PM, I decided it was time for a break. I needed to get outside to soak up what light was left for the day. I know myself and if I sit inside too long, I become agitated.
I opened the garage door and took a few steps outside. As beautiful as it was, it was a bit brisk. I remember this because when my cold pants hit my leg, I got goose bumps.
I went over my usual routine…walking up and down the driveway, looking at all the plants. I imagined what they were going to look like come Spring. I put a whole bunch of them in the dirt this year, so I get excited when I think about what they will become.
As I made my way down to the bottom of the driveway, the filtered sunlight hit my back. It felt so good, because it instantly warmed me up. I walked a bit further and found a spot where the direct sunlight was shining on the driveway. I moved into it and stood there in the warmth for a few minutes, just staring in the woods.
Then I closed my eyes.
The very first thing Laura and I noticed when we opened the car doors to visit this house was the quiet of the neighborhood. I am talking silence. I have rarely heard this type of quiet and was starting to think it didn’t exist. There is usually some sort of background noise that one becomes accustomed to, but not here, and that’s what really makes this place.
When Laura’s parents visited us over the Summer, the first thing they said upon getting out of their car was, “Wow, it’s quiet here.”
I must have been standing there for about 15 minutes. I have to tell you, I really, really enjoyed just simply being where I was. That kind of peace doesn’t stop by too often; I have to kind of go hunt it down.
I heard Laura give a quiet giggle in back of me and I turned around. It was like I just woke up. The sun was still shining on me, so it was difficult to see what she was doing. When my eyes adjusted to the light, I saw that she was taking Holly up to the mailbox for her daily walk. Laura likes to take the dog out for a while, so Holly can enjoy the scenery too.
It’s strange, because I am still thinking about just standing there in the driveway.
I don’t know why, but I’m sure it has something to do with…
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 writing is a challenging feat. I knew I had to start writing soon because I had already committed to it a few days ago. I’m not sure who wants to see this story on my blog more, you or me.
Recently, my Aunt, who is a writer, 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 writing business. 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 English class back in high school and college, 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 music 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 posts 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 writing 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 shower trying to raise my body temperature. As the water got hotter and hotter, I began thinking. I guess the water temperature 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 college, 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 house 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 business. 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 graduation, my friend Rob 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 car for a trip down South. 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.
Rob 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 funny to engage in and I’m sure it’s even more funny to watch.
Rob at age 14 (I think)
I remember a little something about our first drive South to the town nicknamed, “Hotlanta.” We were cruising down one of Virginia’s most scenic highways, Interstate 81. Rob was behind the wheel of his Honda 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, Rob is okay, hence, only one eye being open.
The car was already a mess. For some reason, it is impossible to take a trip that lasts more than three hours without the entire car 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 Rob giving someone in a bright blue pickup truck next to us the one finger salute. I got all excited and told Rob to cut the crap. I said, “Rob 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 car and no one will ever see us again.” Of course, Virginia is only a few miles past the Mason-Dixon Line and I was at a very ignorant point in my life. Rob tried to explain that the pickup truck had cut 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 gas and browse the service station aisles for its best and healthiest food. After all, we were already at the bottom of Virginia and had been driving for a good long time.
We found an exit that had a huge “Gas” sign next to the exit ramp. We pulled off the highway and made a right. We quickly made another right into the gas station.
While Rob 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 gas pump.
I saw Rob stiffen up when the pickup truck guy start walking towards the car. 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 car, the pickup truck dude finally said, “What are you doin’, showin’ me your age?” to which Rob 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.” Rob 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 car, I let my guard down and loosened my grip on the fist of death. There would be no Southern 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 South.
We made it to Atlanta, and after a few days of driving around, we decided against moving there after graduation. We thought the culture was oriented too much around work. Everyone seemed to be working all the time. Work, work, work, work, work. That went against the grain of Jay and Rob, who honestly weren’t all that much into the whole work 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, “Rob, 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 college in Binghamton.
Rob 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 Rob, 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
The job didn’t happen until a few months into our little adventure. We took the first month’s rent for free and then Rob covered the next month. Right at the end of that month, I finally got a job and started paying Rob 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, Rob 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. Rob 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; Rob should, in absolutely no way, own a gun. He has a little history 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, Rob shot the out neighbor’s house window.
2. One day, while shooting targets with my BB gun in the backyard, Rob missed the target and the BB ricochet about three times and hit me in the temple.
3. One day, while standing at the end of the driveway twirling my BB gun, Rob blew out the back window of our friend’s Mustang, while it was driving down the road.
The fact that Rob 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 Craig’s house for a month or so, before moving back to Binghamton for grad school. Rob ended up back at his parents’ house for a short stay before renting a house down in town.
Craig 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, Craig was usually straddling some earth moving machine in an effort to either create a road, a dirt bike track or a pond. Every time we were there, Craig was working on some project. Over the years, Craig had collected quite the array of machinery to assist him in his effort to transform his 40 acres into the land of his dreams.
Craig was quite dedicated and Craig was quite serious.
There was one particular visit I remember well. Both Rob 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 Rob, the three hour drive definitely made him a visitor.
During the few weeks I lived at Craig’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 Craig 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 driveway 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 work 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, Craig decided it was worth talking about, so he chased me. He explained that this work 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 farmers 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.
Rob wasn’t there for this conversation. Rob had no idea how much Craig loved that truck. Rob showed up and wanted to drink beer and ride dirt bikes, of which we were both only too happy to oblige.
We had a good time the night after Rob arrived. We ate and drank and told stories of all the crazy stuff we used to do. Craig 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. Craig was pretty excited about this and said he was going to see how it shot the next day.
It just so happens that Rob decided to bring his gun too. Sure, it wasn’t nearly as powerful as Craig’s new bazooka, but it would be fine during target practice. I just had to be sure the stay the hell away from Rob when he was firing this thing. At the time, I thought it wasn’t a bad idea to bring that gun up to Craig’s, since it was on a hillside in Oneonta, NY. There was virtually no one for miles.
You know, come to think of it, at no point that night did Craig ever express to Rob the importance of his new work truck.
We woke up the next morning. As usual, Rob 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 Craig. We strolled around for a while, got some coffee and decided to sit on the couch and talk. The house was silent and kind of boring, but we didn’t really want to get into doing farm chores…we would leave those for Craig. 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 Rob almost fell off the couch. I think my heart skipped a beat when I heard that enormously loud explosion. I looked at Rob and Rob looked at me. We both thought we were under attack. Rob 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 Craig 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
Hillside in Oneonta, NY
I just stood there staring out the window, frozen, when I saw Rob whiz past me and run down the back porch stairs. Oh no, he had his gun too. I guess I had been in a trance longer than I thought because Rob 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 Rob standing a good distance in back of Craig. Craig 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 Rob asked, “What in the world is that?” He was looking at Craig’s new truck. I said, “Oh, don’t ask. That’s Craig’s new work truck. Like he needs another hunk of junk around here.” Rob said, “Seriously.” and began walking down to Craig, who was filling his rifle up with another bullet.
I remember standing there when I saw Rob stop about half way between Craig 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 Craig woke up early in the morning, he walked down to the new work truck and placed a shooting target 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 target was placed neatly on the uppermost corner, far out of reach of the rest of the truck. It was almost invisible from where Rob was standing.
When Craig shot his gun, the bullet was so powerful and so fast, it simply sliced through the paper target and splintered the wood. The bullet easily exited the backside of the board. It was almost like there was no damage from the small missiles at all. Craig hit the target three times and the board was still clearly intact.
Craig had loaded his gun and Rob had loaded his gun.
No one ever told Rob that there was a target on the back of the truck.
Craig set up to take another shot when we both heard, “PAP PAP PAP PAP PAP.” It was Rob’s gun going off. I think Craig liked it because now Rob was getting into the mix. Rob was standing there like he was a hitman taking down a rival gang.
“BA BOOOOM!!!” again. Craig made another shot. “PAP PAP PAP PAP…” Rob kept firing. I think his clip held 20 bullets and he had emptied them all. “BA BOOOOM!!!” Craig 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 Rob’s gun. It wasn’t lined up with the target and it kept moving from side to side. Craig’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 walking toward both Rob and Craig when I overheard them congratulating themselves for the massive amount of firepower they had just displayed. I just kept on walking, one foot in front of the other.
When I reached them, the three of us started walking 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.”
Craig’s head quickly snapped over to look at Rob 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 Craig’s new work 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 windshield 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 target at the back of the truck.
I turned around and began walking back up the hill towards the house. Craig looked over at Rob 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. Rob had shot the fender, which sheltered the engine. Apparently, Rob’s bullets made their way through the distributor cap, the radiator and the valve covers. The truck was unusable.
I kept walking 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 Rob. 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 funniest thing that has ever happened in my life and I enjoyed sharing it with you very much.
I can’t believe my parents have been married for 40 years. Well, it’s a little more then 40 years now. It was their anniversary yesterday.
I keep thinking about how fast life flies by. I have now been at this job for five years. I would say that’s about four and a half years too long. I wasn’t even going to take a job when we moved back from Naples. It was just there and they offered it to me. How fast that five years have gone.
Well, 40 years is a little longer than five. I am sure my parents are thinking back about how much they have done during their marriage. The way memory works, at least the way mine does, is to think of recent stuff. I am not sure they think too often of the land in Amenia or when the garage door faced the other direction. When was the last time my parents sat at the dinner table and talked about how Mrs. Clancy used to mow her lawn on the Ford tractor in the middle of July wearing a winter hat? Or, going to the beach at Tonetta Lake? I guess my point is that they have done a heck of a lot more together than they even realize. It’s a good thing when you have lived with someone so long you forget half of it, I think.
Anyway, happy anniversary parents o’ mine. Love ya.
