puros_bran
Well-known member
- Joined
- Dec 10, 2007
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I had to renew my license this week. The lady noticed my newest tattoo, a forearm portrait of Secretariat I had done in July, and commented that she normally doesn't like tats but that mine was nice. I offered up that what I did for a living. Next thing you know the entire office is at my window asking a million questions.
The next day a news reporter is hunting all over town looking for me. Now that about freaked me out. Lol. I haven't declined the interview but I will next tine I'm in town. Non-disclosure clauses and whatnot.
But the whole incident got me to thinking. Do they do Joe the Plumber or Mike the Mexhanic like that? No, but Joe and Mike have stories to tell too.
Why aren't they interested in their stories?
I am. So here's a chance.
Who are you? What have you sone? When was that? Where was it? How has it affected you? Etc ?
I'll tell the first one.
Back in 74-75 my mother and father were students at Moorehead State University. We lived in 'married student' housing. It was summertime and back then air conditioning was a luxury far outside a couple of young students, with two children, budget. The easy solution on a hot summer day was to open the doors in the shotgun shack and catch a breeze, and that's exactly what mom did. She would make a pallett on the floor out of blankets and plop me down right in the breezeway. On one of those hot summer days a small puppy found his way into the house. Small puppy, toddler in the floor, man that's like peanut butter and jelly. Now if the story ended there it'd be traditional American boy and his dig story, a classic. But it doesn't. You see that small toddler was asleep. The puppy pounced me, licking, tail wagging, get up and play. I didn't notice. What I saw as I was waking up was a vicious monster with huge fangs, foot long claws, and a club for a tail. I was horrified. Mom, as she has always been prone to do, swooped in and rescued me. She single handedly battled the monster and banished him to the far reaches of the galaxy, right outside the screen door. It was to late. I wouldn't lay in the dark. Would go until I collapsed even in the light. Every shadow hid 'the dream doggy'. He lurked behind every closed door, right around every corner.
I don't know how long that went on. Days,weeks, a month? I can imagine my bleary eyed parents, desperate for sleep, working on frayed nerves, discussing how to deal with it. 'We could force him to play with the puppy?' "no, that won't work" Several minutes of me crying 'what about the orphanage?'. "tempting but no,,"
Several more minutes of my squalling "I got it.." mom said. I don't know whose plan it was but my mom put out a lot of my fires growing up and my Gather abandoned us ( that'll be another story) so I'm giving her credit regardless of who thought it up.
My father is a little man. Not impressive, he doesn't stand out in a crowd. He's far from the hero type. I often wonder how he ever landed mom, who was a hottie back in the day, bit I digress. My Uncle Dallass on the other hand, 6'2 6'3 6'4 back in the day when 5'10 was tall. A Kentucky State Trooper. A classic good looking all American guy. He was a total prick I wouldn't have pissed on if he was on fire but I didn't know that for another 10-12 years. Back then he was next to God, and God better be good cause Uncle Dallas was a cop, just in case he didn't know.
I don't know if I spoke to him on the phone or if they just told me he was coming , but would you believe Uncle Dallas was coming the the 'dream doggy' It was on like donkey kong. Ok donkey kong wasn't invented yet, bit Dallas want coming either. Lol. I remember vividly Uncle Dallas coming up, waging an epic battle, and slaying that dread monster right outside my window. He shot him about 20-30 times with his revolver. Reality is that my father lit a pack of firecrackers outside, bit who needs reality when my Uncle almost came up and almost slayed the almost monster.
I still don't sleep much all these years later, and Cats are the bomb. Dogs vamt be trusted, look at em with their beady eyes and shifty gaze. Lol.
Ok, your turn. Tell me a story about you.
The next day a news reporter is hunting all over town looking for me. Now that about freaked me out. Lol. I haven't declined the interview but I will next tine I'm in town. Non-disclosure clauses and whatnot.
But the whole incident got me to thinking. Do they do Joe the Plumber or Mike the Mexhanic like that? No, but Joe and Mike have stories to tell too.
Why aren't they interested in their stories?
I am. So here's a chance.
Who are you? What have you sone? When was that? Where was it? How has it affected you? Etc ?
I'll tell the first one.
Back in 74-75 my mother and father were students at Moorehead State University. We lived in 'married student' housing. It was summertime and back then air conditioning was a luxury far outside a couple of young students, with two children, budget. The easy solution on a hot summer day was to open the doors in the shotgun shack and catch a breeze, and that's exactly what mom did. She would make a pallett on the floor out of blankets and plop me down right in the breezeway. On one of those hot summer days a small puppy found his way into the house. Small puppy, toddler in the floor, man that's like peanut butter and jelly. Now if the story ended there it'd be traditional American boy and his dig story, a classic. But it doesn't. You see that small toddler was asleep. The puppy pounced me, licking, tail wagging, get up and play. I didn't notice. What I saw as I was waking up was a vicious monster with huge fangs, foot long claws, and a club for a tail. I was horrified. Mom, as she has always been prone to do, swooped in and rescued me. She single handedly battled the monster and banished him to the far reaches of the galaxy, right outside the screen door. It was to late. I wouldn't lay in the dark. Would go until I collapsed even in the light. Every shadow hid 'the dream doggy'. He lurked behind every closed door, right around every corner.
I don't know how long that went on. Days,weeks, a month? I can imagine my bleary eyed parents, desperate for sleep, working on frayed nerves, discussing how to deal with it. 'We could force him to play with the puppy?' "no, that won't work" Several minutes of me crying 'what about the orphanage?'. "tempting but no,,"
Several more minutes of my squalling "I got it.." mom said. I don't know whose plan it was but my mom put out a lot of my fires growing up and my Gather abandoned us ( that'll be another story) so I'm giving her credit regardless of who thought it up.
My father is a little man. Not impressive, he doesn't stand out in a crowd. He's far from the hero type. I often wonder how he ever landed mom, who was a hottie back in the day, bit I digress. My Uncle Dallass on the other hand, 6'2 6'3 6'4 back in the day when 5'10 was tall. A Kentucky State Trooper. A classic good looking all American guy. He was a total prick I wouldn't have pissed on if he was on fire but I didn't know that for another 10-12 years. Back then he was next to God, and God better be good cause Uncle Dallas was a cop, just in case he didn't know.
I don't know if I spoke to him on the phone or if they just told me he was coming , but would you believe Uncle Dallas was coming the the 'dream doggy' It was on like donkey kong. Ok donkey kong wasn't invented yet, bit Dallas want coming either. Lol. I remember vividly Uncle Dallas coming up, waging an epic battle, and slaying that dread monster right outside my window. He shot him about 20-30 times with his revolver. Reality is that my father lit a pack of firecrackers outside, bit who needs reality when my Uncle almost came up and almost slayed the almost monster.
I still don't sleep much all these years later, and Cats are the bomb. Dogs vamt be trusted, look at em with their beady eyes and shifty gaze. Lol.
Ok, your turn. Tell me a story about you.
