This is a story from 2009 that I thought was lost... A good friend reminded me of the story and said they still had the original email that I had sent out.
She was telling the story to one her students, a police officer no less, when he looks over at me and says: "that would be an interesting ticket to write"...
I just wish I had not lost the engineering drawings (thanks bro). They vanished when my computer crashed.
Well as you know, I am driving limo's. Sometimes you kind of get
bored even when driving. My science project last night was the
proper "disposal" of helium filled balloons left over from a wedding.
Okay so I bet you are already thinking of things you can do with them.
I
had dropped off the bride and groom and on the way back to the garage I was trying to
figure out what to do with the ten balloons in the back of my 31'
stretch Lincoln.
As I figured it, I had some options...
Option 1: When I get back to the garage I can pop them all in the car and dispose of the carcasses. As any self respecting black car limo driver should do. Boring!
Shit man, helium floats!
Or...
Option 2: This "light bulb coming on" moment happened doing 65 mph at midnight. Being the prudent scientist I am... I
reach through the divider to capture the first unit for my experimental launch, gotta test a theory right?
Kind
of awkward when driving, but doable.
I open the drivers side window and
let 'er rip. OK that worked but kind of distracting. Got to keep both
hands on the wheel and eyes on the road, safety 1st!
Damn balloons are big as my head, yes my head is that big. All them brains ya know!
I drive a few more boring lonesome miles.
Or...
Option 3: Low and behold another light bulb
comes on. Nightlight wattage I might add. What if I open one window at
opposite ends of my 31' custom designed $100K balloon launcher ? Sounds good to me. The air flow
should suck them out.
Right?
Well you might say I did not take the time for due diligence testing this, this, can you say "brilliant" theory. Initially I surmised that since I was going forward at 65 mph the airflow
would exit the right rear window in a glorious show of balloon freedom!
OK my plan is made and thoroughly thought through or about 1/2
mile/30 seconds worth. I need to deploy when there is no one around. Not a big
problem at this time of night with the highway I am on.
Aha! Up
ahead I can see about a 1/4 mile stretch of highway that the street
lights are all out. No one behind and no one ahead on the other side of the
highway.
Kind of exciting, isn't it!
So with great anticipation I
start my latest adventure.
I slowly let down the right rear window,
everything seems fine. The balloons are just bouncing around, giddy with
anticipation of their upcoming freedom.
And then I lower the drivers side front
window...
So my question to you is, which way do you think the balloons decided
to go on their maiden voyage?
Take your time to ponder this.
Again a 31' limo traveling at 65 mph, midnight, 30 degrees outside,
67 degrees inside, helium, black & white balloons, and a dumb ass
behind the wheel.....
You got to understand how a limo is made. The back is cool, lots of
room, fancy LED lights, a bar and this little 2'X2' "privacy" window hole
thingy that allows you to see what is going on, or allows you not to see
what is going on in the back.
Anyway, the drivers compartment is
rather small. Considering me being behind the wheel of the beast and
taking up half the space. Okay maybe a little more...
Now add 9 helium filled balloons into the drivers compartment (in
less than 2 seconds) traveling at 65 mph, at midnight in a 31' limo.
Damn that window went down fast...
The first thought that entered my mind was; I would be the lead story on 9 News at 6 am. Heck I bet even FOX would pick it up.
Balloon Boy my ass, that was a wussies attempt at fame!
Anyway, with
my superior driving skills (driving blind, distracted, 65 mph at
midnight) I was able to casually?
watch as all 9 balloons exited the drivers front window in an orderly fashion. Black, white, black, white, black, white...
Once my visibility returned. I was able to determine I was still on
the road travelling in the right direction still at 65 mph, damn cruise
control.
Next was to check my mirrors (or was it my shorts).
Did any
one witness this wonderful sight? Thank God no one was there to share
this wonderful adventure with me, especially a lonely police officer, or
my boss....
Remember! What happens in the limo stays in the limo. Wonder if that applies to what happens when something exits the limo??? Guess I will ponder this for many miles to come...
W
Chauffeur "extraordinaire"
I read a news bulletin that domestic beer sales are down... Kind of goes hand in hand with the fact that I quit drinking beer three months ago.
 |
| This Bud is for me! |
I sort of feel guilty, all of those brewery workers relying on me to suck the suds daily that they work hard to produce. What a job, I would really like to be the "taster" of the brew.
Yes I sucked some suds in my day. Always domestic blue collar workin' mans beer. None of that she-man micro brew crap (so sue me if you don't like my PC).
The micro crap always gave me a massive headache and no buzz. And I can tell you a simple fact, I do not normally get headaches. Thank God, never could understand when people I knew told me they were getting a migraine.
The micro crap is also at least 30-50% more expensive than your true blue American Bud.
So if you are drawing down 3-500 bucks a week (workin' mans pay), have a family to feed, rent to pay and so on. Are you going to spend $8-10 a six pack or $3-5? Simple math, you are not drinking it for the "taste"!
Every time I hear that I want slap them. If you are a man you are slammin' for the buzz, not the taste. Period.
Your life is shit, you struggle day to day to make ends meet. Why would you worry about the taste of what you "guzzle"?
Most men (afraid to tell the truth) tell you that they drink beer, well let me tell you if you drink beer you are livin' in la la land!
Real men do not drink, they guzzle.
Why you ask? To make the madness go away. Their lives are not a "happy, happy, happy" bunch of stuff. Their lives are a "crappy, crappy, crappy" bowl of shit.
A bowl that they now have to stir with a shovel, forget the spoon...
I am writing this maybe because I was used to slammin' 6-8 workin' man beers at a time. For me, to slam that many micro brews is not going to happen. Well I guess that is the problem, quantity/money...
Recently I got into a Facebook conversation with my nephew about beer, as the day progressed I came back to a very strong memory that I had.
I met a woman who treated me as a person no matter what I looked like. She then introduced me to her family after a road trip to her parents home in a Dodge Colt wagon (yeah Google that one!) thanks mom & dad, really.
Well we made it to her parents house with only one major break down on the way. The alternator bracket took a shit in the middle of a small town in Iowa. Great time in a small in the middle of nowhere town. We got a hotel room in a beautiful old hotel on main street and sleep the night away.
In the morning the person at the desk directed us to a garage that could help us out. The guy on duty was what was once called a mechanic, they could fix anything.
Today they are called technicians or in other words they replace broken parts, they have no idea in how to repair a broken part. I lived through this societal/engineering transformation and it was eye opening (maybe another story here someday).
Anyway the mechanic made us a new alternator bracket out of scrap steel, installed it and off we went. We never had a problem with that part again.
We arrived at her parents house in due time and they made me feel at home immediately.
He was a WWII vet (stationed in the Philippines), had worked at a local radio station and drove a "packer" (bet not many if any of you know what a packer is...). Blue collar worker takin' care of his family. Get a job, earn a paycheck bring it home and drink some PBR's along the way.
Her father asked me (maybe because I was not scared or judgmental of him when he asked) if I wanted to go with him to his "club" for a beer. Sign me up. Off we went to his private club.
The club was a basic as you see in the movies bar. It was owned and run by Chris and Mary ("Mary Christmas" they would say). Great people. As we sat suckin' down PBR's at a rate of 2 bits a draft life took on a new glow...
He introduced me to his friends. They accepted me. He taught me some pool shots, bought me some rounds and we had a wonderful afternoon just being people...
This is the life of the working man. Who just wants some suds to dull the pain of the day. Then off they go on home to be with the family.
The taste of the PBR on tap in his private club can never be topped. Because it was a memory of family, new friends, and beer!
This was the man that I asked if I could marry his daughter, yeah the way it should be done.
Well he approved the deal and 33 years later we are still together.
So what is this story all about, hum, I guess it is really about appearances. What do we see and how do we react/respond, and then judge?
When you are confronted with a homeless person, mentally challenged person or someone with a weird hair-do, (or maybe a micro brew drinker) how do you react?
Do you treat them as a person, shy away, go the other way, avoid contact, or do you just jump in and find out who they are?
Maybe sit down and just have a beer with them.
W
