Thanksgiving always means crazy Indians and wild corn and turkeys running crazy and a bunch of weird men dressed in tights with giant belt buckles the size of a bedroom window and women with a whole lot of something stuffed up their dresses and other interesting things that this run on sentence has no room to mention.
I will just tell you of one Thanksgiving. No not the one that my mom hand stitched an Indian costume for me (moccasins included) out of the thickest brown suede known to man. I wore said costume to school with no back up change of clothes and had to lie down most of the day because I was in danger of having a heat stroke. (it is usually still 80 degrees in a South Arkansas November) (was I the only idiot that wore a Thanksgiving costume to school that year?) (Be looking for this costume to be recycled on Tyrone the only African American kid in my church. He of course got the part of the Indian in the christmas play one year. I'll post a blog about that closer to Christmas.) (I will now stop putting things in () and carry on with this story.)
Ok so I'm in the 2nd grade. 2nd grade is know by my parents as The Year Of The LIAR! For some reason 2nd grade was a banner year for me as a liar. It probably had a lot to do with my teacher, Ms. Hollis. A tall woman, who had dark hair cut in the style of most of our dad's hair. She wore plaid button down shirts, like most of our dad's and double knit trousers, like most of our dad's and had a scary deep voice, like most of our dad's and a she had a MUSTACHE, like some of the dad's........I'm just saying.
So apparenlty I got a reputation real fast in 2nd grade for not being 100% honest. My stories included, but not limited to:
-My parents own derby race horses and we have a couple running in the Kentucky Derby and that is why I will be missing school next week. (the truth is that my dad is a pastor and we were going to Kentucky for a pastors convention) I returned and got up in front of the class and told a big long, long story about my dad's horse and his great win at the Derby! (I got busted at the parent/teacher conference when Ms. Hollis congratulated my mom on our horses big win.)
-I raced motor cross (dirt bikes) and I was going out of town to race in the national chamionship. ( truth is it was another trip with my dad, he was preaching for some church out of town) I again returned and told my class all about my big win. Don't think Ms. Hollis gave me the floor anymore after racehorse gate so I gathered them all at recess. Sad thing is that Jason Jeeter was convinced that he saw me win on TV!
-Came into class one day wearing sun glasses and Ms. Hollis told me to take them off. I explained to her that these were perscription glasses that I needed to read the chalk board. We argued for a moment about the reality of my story and then she threatened to put my name on the board and I agreed to take them off, but stated that I wouldn't be able to see. I forgot to bring my cool shades the next day and Ms. Hollis first thing says from the front of the class "excuse me Shane, but where are your glasses today?" That was the moment I realized I had forgotten them, so I quickly replied "I got contacts yesterday after school." Ms. Hollis was determined to prove me the liar I was so she comes back to my desk and says "really...then look up to the light, I want to see those contacts on your eyes." After she failed to see them on my eyes I then explained that these were some new invisible contacts.
-I hated waiting in the bus riders room, I was envious of the car riders because they got to escape the choking walls of school an hour earlier than the bus riders. We bus riders had to wait in a classroom with the lights out and watch cartoons. Now I didn't have a TV growing up and anytime I got a chance to watch tv it was like candy or Disney Land, but for some reason getting out of school earlier was more enticing than cartoons. So one day I just decided to line up in the car riders line. Ms. Hollis of course noted my actions and questioned me. I explained that we had moved and I no longer needed to ride the bus because my mom would be picking me up from now on. She should have known better. So want to know what I did? Well I walked out those prison doors with all the other lucky car riders and I walked down the sidewalk chatting with my buds and said my goodbyes and they got in their cars and I crossed the street and found a nice shrub to hide in. Yeah that's right, I could be inside in the nice a/c watching cartoons with all those other lame bus riders, but I was far too smart for that. I was crouching in a shrub across the street, free, FREE! This plan worked for a few days, I would wait til all the other lame bus riders came out and in the confusion I would slip out of my shrub and onto my bus. But one day for some reason I got impatient, could have been the heat, or the itchy shrub or ants, but for whatever reason I decided that once the bus got there I didn't need to wait for all the lame bus riders, I could just go wait on the bus for the rest of them. Of course my bus driver questioned me, but I thought it was just between me and the bus driver, I wasn't aware that the now evil bus driver had notified Ms. Hollis. So the next day I lined up with the car riders and said my goodbyes and slipped into my shrub and waited. Then about 15 minutes into my hour long crouching session this kid (Johnny Bush, for real that was his name) comes out the front door of the school, walks down the sidewalk and crosses the street and walks strait up to my shrub and says, "SHANE!" I'm like "shhhhhhh........go away......" he says "Ms. Hollis says that if you don't come inside right now that you'll get your name on the board!" She get's me every time!!
- other things I did in 2nd grade were take 5 pounds of comic books to school in my backpack most days, packed a giant Rambo style buck knife in my backpack one day, brought a jar full of fire ants to school....etc
Ok so back to thanksgiving. So for thanksgiving I went with my family to visit my dad's family on the banks of the Bayou Mason in Lousiana. While playing with cousins I hopped onto the tire swing right on the bank that slopped to the water. My lovely big sister decided to give me the ride of my lifetime and so she began twisting the tire swing round and round. As the tire swing got tighter and tighter my sister was constantly assuring me that this would be better than a ride at Disney World (which i had never been to and probably told my 2nd grade class that not only do I go all the time but my dad owns it). After what seemed like an hour she reached maximum tension and released me with a one giant spin. I quickly realized that this was not my kind of ride. As the G force was pulling my cheeks away from my gums I felt my pinky slip from the rope, I knew right then that this was not going to end well. That moment is forever etched in my mind as a slow motion movie, my sister is laughing with this scary man laugh (because it's slow motion) as I scream "MAKE IT STOP!!". I can hear my cousins laughing in the background and cheering with glee. Then my sister gives the worst wisdom of all time, she yells to me "Just let go!"
I've been holding on for dear life for what seems like as long as all the recesses combined that I spent inside the classroom writing "I will not lie" on the chalk board. Now with such spinning force on my body I am down to just three fingers of the ten I started with. Those remaining three fingers are clinging by the tips to the old rope, holding the fate of my life in the balance, so letting go isn't such a stretch. With not much effort but a lot of guts I watched my three white bloodless blistered fingers slip from the rope and I went sailing through the air. What would have been great is if there was a pile of leaves, pillows or blankets at the base of that old oak tree. What awaited me was instead the giant and very hard roots of the large oak tree from which this tire swing hung on the banks of that bayou. This was no soft landing, I immediately went into an all out scream as the pain pulsed all over my body. Those cheerleaders and my sister the ring leader suddenly became the EMS and carried the victim into the house. Once inside I was met by a team of aunts and older cousins and my mom, who were all in the kitchen preparing Thanksgiving dinner. This team however showed little concern for me the victim and didn't even put down their deviled eggs or stop stirring the giblet gravy, my mom just gave me a once over and said go put him on the couch. As I laid on the couch the pain in my body began to give way to the pain in my arm. I continued to cry and yell "IT HURTS!!", but no one seemed to care.
After over an hour of this the men of the family returned from where ever men go when the women are preparing Thanksgiving dinner and the kids are outside putting the smallest among them in harms way. Mind you I was still crying and yelling. So my dad suggested that maybe I had a more serious injury than just my pride being broken. My dad and mom packed me up in the car and drove me to the nearest ER. We were many miles from town and the nearest ER wasn't even in town but two towns away. So after a very long and painful car ride we arrived at the ER where I was X-rayed and it was determined that those roots had given the bone in my arm a good crack, I had indeed broken my arm.
This ER was so backwoods that they didn't have the ability to cast my arm. The doctor told my parents that they would have to take me all the way into Monroe, the closest ER able to cast my arm. So they put my arm in a sling, BUT they only had an ADULT XL sling, therefore they literally duct taped the thing to me. So while making the more than hour drive into Monroe my parents decided for whatever reason to journey all the way back to Arkansas which was another hour pasted Monroe.
While my sister and brother and aunts, uncles and cousins are back on the banks of the bayou eating a Thanksgiving feast, I am being driven back to Arkansas to see if someone in this region might know how to cast a poor 2nd graders broken arm. Eventually we make it and are informed by our Doc that a normal arm cast won't do the trick because the bone is broken to close to the shoulder joint. They place a body cast which wraps around my belly going under my left arm but over my right shoulder and leaves my right hand exposed just above my cast covered belly button. We then got back in the car and, yes you guessed it, drove all the way back to Louisiana arriving sometime that evening after the sun had gone down and just in time for some left over turkey, deviled eggs and giblet gravy.
Definitely a memorable Thanksgiving, but I'll end this story not on that Thanksgiving day but rather the following Monday when I returned to Ms. Hollis 2nd grade class with only my left arm exposed and my right arm inside my shirt. Ms. Hollis says from the front of the class, "Shane please put your arm back through your sleeve RIGHT NOW!" I proudly explained that I couldn't because I had broken my arm on Thanksgiving. She of course was not in any mood to hear another one of my crazy stories so she threatened to write my name on the board, but this time I stood up and lifted my shirt up to expose my new body cast with my little 2nd grade hand sticking out just above my belly button. That was the one day that she invited me to the front of the class to share a TRUE story of epic proportions!
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Candy Rain
What kid doesn't love a candy rain? Some of you might be asking, "what is a candy rain?" If you are asking this then you have lived a pretty sad life.
So this story starts back in the mid 80's. I grew up attending summer camps in a little town in Arkansas whose name, Redfield surely came from the place crawling with red bugs or as we called them, CHIGGERS.
While other kids where enjoying horse back riding, zip lines, ropes courses and swimming pools at their camps, the highlight of Chigger camp was playing softball. Oh and if you were a girl you could either watch the guys play softball or do arts and crafts. We had to sit through 2 church services every day and regardless of if you wanted to or not everyone was required to be in the choir, which meant an hour long choir practice every day. The precedent was somewhere established that you must dress up in really fancy clothes for the evening church services but they would lock us out of our bunk house an hour before service and wouldn't open the doors to the "tabernacle" until just moments before it started. So it's the middle of July and of course it's like 150 degrees and we are all dressed up with our 3 piece suits and neck ties and the girls have frilly dresses, panty hose and enough White Rain hair spray to put 3 holes in the ozone. We would all pile up at the door like a bunch of fans at a Bieber concert and just sweat!
Ok so you get the picture that Chigger camp was in need of some excitement. Well one year some amazing person had a most brilliant idea. When we arrived at camp we were told that if we were really good campers that we would get a HUGE surprise on the last day! (apparently they had trouble with us being rowdy campers.....YOU THINK...we are bored out of our minds)
So the last day came and we were herded out to the back side of the "tabernacle" and each of us was given a plastic bag. They spread us out on the grass and from up on top of the "tabernacle" appear these guys with buckets full of candy!! We probably didn't even know what they had in the bucket but we were still all screaming like girls. Then they began to throw handfuls of candy into the air and every kid lost his mind! CANDY IS FALLING FROM THE SKY!
That was a huge success and if they did that every year it would probably make up for the other 4 days of boredom. But somebody must have said, "Gentlemen.......let's take it to the next level!" The very next year upon arriving at Chigger camp we were told that there was an even bigger surprise this year. So Friday comes and we are taken out to the field once again but instructed to spread out all over the field. (those of us that were there last year were trying to get the best spots around the "tabernacle") But they said "spread out all over the softball fields". We were a bit confused but still were trying to figure out what will make this an even bigger surprise.....better candy.....bigger candy........more candy?? Oh I forgot to mention that somebody had a bull horn. Someone always had a bull horn at Chigger camp but no one cared to explain to them that we couldn't understand what in the world they were saying.
So they guy on the bull horn says, "EEEERRRRYYYYYYY GOOOEETT THOTOOOOO" well that's what it sounded like, but i'm sure he said "every body get ready.....here comes the candy!!!" And in the distance we see this air plane! Are you freaking kidding me!!???!!! We really lost our minds. Imagine 300 kids with plastic bags running in circles as this plane approaches. As it flies over us hundreds of little white parachutes with bags of heavenly candy come floating out of the back of the plane and like little clouds of cotton they drifted to the ground, only to be attacked by 300 screaming kids. So as all of these parachutes are falling to earth the plane makes another pass and as it approaches the screaming intensifies once again. More parachutes, we are in heaven, we are the happiest kids on the planet. It was like mana from heaven. We were screaming things like, "this is the best day ever!", "this is amazing!", "thank you Jesus for parachute candy!", "I love Chigger camp!", "I love bull horns!".
So the 3rd time the plane approaches, and just as before we scream, run in circles, little white parachutes come floating from the plane, we scream some more, and then something that we never could have imagined would happen, happened. In fact no one could have imagined this. The pilot somehow got distracted (screaming kids, parachutes, bull horns) and he didn't notice the TREES!!
So suddenly the amazing air plane that rains little white parachutes full of candy from it's backside, smashes into the trees and crashes into a cluster of RV's! It was like one of those slow motion shots from the movies, we went from screaming with joy "best day ever!" to screaming in horror.....just screaming! Everyone was crying, kids screaming "I want my mommy", the adults were now screaming and running around in circles. My friend comes running from the other end of the ball field crying and screaming, "MY PARENTS ARE IN ONE OF THOSE RV's!!"
In just moments our lives there at Chigger camp went from Heaven to Hell!
Well mostly good news, a few broken bones, a few busted RV's, a few broken trees, and one destroyed plane, but by God's grace no one was killed. There are however 300 children who grew up to be adults and are working through their trauma from that amazingly dreadful Candy Rain.
Webster's Dictionary gives this definition to Candy Rain: little pieces of heaven
mysteriously falling from the skies.
So this story starts back in the mid 80's. I grew up attending summer camps in a little town in Arkansas whose name, Redfield surely came from the place crawling with red bugs or as we called them, CHIGGERS.
While other kids where enjoying horse back riding, zip lines, ropes courses and swimming pools at their camps, the highlight of Chigger camp was playing softball. Oh and if you were a girl you could either watch the guys play softball or do arts and crafts. We had to sit through 2 church services every day and regardless of if you wanted to or not everyone was required to be in the choir, which meant an hour long choir practice every day. The precedent was somewhere established that you must dress up in really fancy clothes for the evening church services but they would lock us out of our bunk house an hour before service and wouldn't open the doors to the "tabernacle" until just moments before it started. So it's the middle of July and of course it's like 150 degrees and we are all dressed up with our 3 piece suits and neck ties and the girls have frilly dresses, panty hose and enough White Rain hair spray to put 3 holes in the ozone. We would all pile up at the door like a bunch of fans at a Bieber concert and just sweat!
Ok so you get the picture that Chigger camp was in need of some excitement. Well one year some amazing person had a most brilliant idea. When we arrived at camp we were told that if we were really good campers that we would get a HUGE surprise on the last day! (apparently they had trouble with us being rowdy campers.....YOU THINK...we are bored out of our minds)
So the last day came and we were herded out to the back side of the "tabernacle" and each of us was given a plastic bag. They spread us out on the grass and from up on top of the "tabernacle" appear these guys with buckets full of candy!! We probably didn't even know what they had in the bucket but we were still all screaming like girls. Then they began to throw handfuls of candy into the air and every kid lost his mind! CANDY IS FALLING FROM THE SKY!
That was a huge success and if they did that every year it would probably make up for the other 4 days of boredom. But somebody must have said, "Gentlemen.......let's take it to the next level!" The very next year upon arriving at Chigger camp we were told that there was an even bigger surprise this year. So Friday comes and we are taken out to the field once again but instructed to spread out all over the field. (those of us that were there last year were trying to get the best spots around the "tabernacle") But they said "spread out all over the softball fields". We were a bit confused but still were trying to figure out what will make this an even bigger surprise.....better candy.....bigger candy........more candy?? Oh I forgot to mention that somebody had a bull horn. Someone always had a bull horn at Chigger camp but no one cared to explain to them that we couldn't understand what in the world they were saying.
So they guy on the bull horn says, "EEEERRRRYYYYYYY GOOOEETT THOTOOOOO" well that's what it sounded like, but i'm sure he said "every body get ready.....here comes the candy!!!" And in the distance we see this air plane! Are you freaking kidding me!!???!!! We really lost our minds. Imagine 300 kids with plastic bags running in circles as this plane approaches. As it flies over us hundreds of little white parachutes with bags of heavenly candy come floating out of the back of the plane and like little clouds of cotton they drifted to the ground, only to be attacked by 300 screaming kids. So as all of these parachutes are falling to earth the plane makes another pass and as it approaches the screaming intensifies once again. More parachutes, we are in heaven, we are the happiest kids on the planet. It was like mana from heaven. We were screaming things like, "this is the best day ever!", "this is amazing!", "thank you Jesus for parachute candy!", "I love Chigger camp!", "I love bull horns!".
So suddenly the amazing air plane that rains little white parachutes full of candy from it's backside, smashes into the trees and crashes into a cluster of RV's! It was like one of those slow motion shots from the movies, we went from screaming with joy "best day ever!" to screaming in horror.....just screaming! Everyone was crying, kids screaming "I want my mommy", the adults were now screaming and running around in circles. My friend comes running from the other end of the ball field crying and screaming, "MY PARENTS ARE IN ONE OF THOSE RV's!!"
In just moments our lives there at Chigger camp went from Heaven to Hell!
Well mostly good news, a few broken bones, a few busted RV's, a few broken trees, and one destroyed plane, but by God's grace no one was killed. There are however 300 children who grew up to be adults and are working through their trauma from that amazingly dreadful Candy Rain.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Easter Cantata
Nothing says Easter like a good Easter Cantata. The definition of Cantata is: a medium-length narrative or descriptive piece of music with vocal solos and usually a chorus and orchestra.
And so begins this story. It was spring of my sixteenth year when I learned that my Sunday School class was putting on an Easter Cantata. As we talked about which parts would be awarded to whom it was decided that I would be the lucky person to play Jesus. I was pretty excited to have the "LEAD" role in the play.....um I mean Cantata. We were acting out a song by Ray Boltz called "Watch The Lamb". If you find yourself saying "I've never heard this song" or "Who is Ray Boltz?" then I suggest you stop reading this post right now, do a quick Google search and get acquainted with this epic piece of Easter Cantataness. At the risk of angering many who read this blog I must admit that I have never met a Ray Boltz song that didn't make my skin crawl, but unfortunately for me and our entire church body I was the minority of my Sunday School class.
I should have paid closer attention when they were handing out the parts. I shouldn't have gotten so lost in my own fantasy of how I would be the best Jesus ever to step foot on stage. (well since "Jesus" never really did many Easter Cantatas I could be the best.) I seemed to miss that the guys that got the roles of the Roman Soldiers were the guys that I picked on all the time, I seemed to miss the glistening in their eyes as our Sunday School teacher described how they needed to make the beating of Jesus as realistic as possible. I never imagined they would take their roles so seriously.
Each of us was responsible for our own costumes and props. I eagerly designed the robe that I would wear, doing extensive research. One baptism robe and some purple cloth, a real crown of thorns and then most important part, a real life rugged cross. I engineered a base that would allow the soldiers to drop the cross into it and some nails that were pre nailed that I could hold on to making it all very realistic.
Dress rehearsal went fine, but I still didn't get the tip off in the soldiers eyes. They carried out a nice "soft" dress rehearsal. Everything was looking great, I was about to seal the deal on my future acting career with this one stellar performance.
Three, Two, and we are live....... I waited in the foyer for my moment to arrive, and then my Sunday School teacher opened the door and I entered, stooped, dragging my custom made cross with pre nailed nails. And then the Roman Soldiers, aka guys I picked on a lot, went into action. The whips that barely could be felt during rehearsal now were ripping through my baptismal robe and seemed to be tearing my flesh away with each lashing. I suddenly remembered how one of those guys was bragging about how his dad had gotten them "real" cat of nine tails whips. I also remembered how my Sunday School teacher had earlier encouraged them to make their beating of me as realistic as possible. Suddenly that center isle of our little church grew from just 15 rows of pews to 15 miles of agony. "I'm not sure I'm going to make it!" I thought. I tried to make eye contact with these rogue actors hoping to give them the "look" without of course breaking character. They were too busy yelling at me and making this whole thing look as "realistic as possible". I even tried some improv, "Why beateth thou me so hardeth?!!" I yelled back at them. There was no reasoning with these hardened soldiers.
After what seemed like hours I finally made it to the front at where I collapsed, which was actually part of the program but I'm not sure I could have stood much longer. Ray shouted from the sound system "You! Carry his cross!" This was the point which the soldiers picked up my custom cross with the pre nailed nails and made Simon carry it from that point on. I'm not sure this breed of Roman Soldier actually had the brain power to plan something like this but it sure worked into their evil plan to give ultimate punishment to this Jesus poser. Remember my custom cross with pre nailed nails? Well with me laying on the ground face down and the custom cross with pre nailed nails resting on my back, one of the Soldiers picked up one side of the custom cross.....well you get the idea. This made the other end of the cross come flying down to the ground and the pre nailed nail smacked me right on the face just below my eye! It literally knocked me dizzy and I immediately could feel the blood beginning to run down my face. We continued on with the Cantata and the thing is that all of these unfortunate events actually made what promised to be a sterile Easter Cantata a huge success. Very realistic many would tell us later. Those Roman Soldiers claimed that they just got caught up in the excitement of the drama, but instead of learning from the character that I had just portrayed, I nursed my injuries as I plotted my revenge.
And so begins this story. It was spring of my sixteenth year when I learned that my Sunday School class was putting on an Easter Cantata. As we talked about which parts would be awarded to whom it was decided that I would be the lucky person to play Jesus. I was pretty excited to have the "LEAD" role in the play.....um I mean Cantata. We were acting out a song by Ray Boltz called "Watch The Lamb". If you find yourself saying "I've never heard this song" or "Who is Ray Boltz?" then I suggest you stop reading this post right now, do a quick Google search and get acquainted with this epic piece of Easter Cantataness. At the risk of angering many who read this blog I must admit that I have never met a Ray Boltz song that didn't make my skin crawl, but unfortunately for me and our entire church body I was the minority of my Sunday School class.
I should have paid closer attention when they were handing out the parts. I shouldn't have gotten so lost in my own fantasy of how I would be the best Jesus ever to step foot on stage. (well since "Jesus" never really did many Easter Cantatas I could be the best.) I seemed to miss that the guys that got the roles of the Roman Soldiers were the guys that I picked on all the time, I seemed to miss the glistening in their eyes as our Sunday School teacher described how they needed to make the beating of Jesus as realistic as possible. I never imagined they would take their roles so seriously.
Each of us was responsible for our own costumes and props. I eagerly designed the robe that I would wear, doing extensive research. One baptism robe and some purple cloth, a real crown of thorns and then most important part, a real life rugged cross. I engineered a base that would allow the soldiers to drop the cross into it and some nails that were pre nailed that I could hold on to making it all very realistic.
Dress rehearsal went fine, but I still didn't get the tip off in the soldiers eyes. They carried out a nice "soft" dress rehearsal. Everything was looking great, I was about to seal the deal on my future acting career with this one stellar performance.
Three, Two, and we are live....... I waited in the foyer for my moment to arrive, and then my Sunday School teacher opened the door and I entered, stooped, dragging my custom made cross with pre nailed nails. And then the Roman Soldiers, aka guys I picked on a lot, went into action. The whips that barely could be felt during rehearsal now were ripping through my baptismal robe and seemed to be tearing my flesh away with each lashing. I suddenly remembered how one of those guys was bragging about how his dad had gotten them "real" cat of nine tails whips. I also remembered how my Sunday School teacher had earlier encouraged them to make their beating of me as realistic as possible. Suddenly that center isle of our little church grew from just 15 rows of pews to 15 miles of agony. "I'm not sure I'm going to make it!" I thought. I tried to make eye contact with these rogue actors hoping to give them the "look" without of course breaking character. They were too busy yelling at me and making this whole thing look as "realistic as possible". I even tried some improv, "Why beateth thou me so hardeth?!!" I yelled back at them. There was no reasoning with these hardened soldiers.
After what seemed like hours I finally made it to the front at where I collapsed, which was actually part of the program but I'm not sure I could have stood much longer. Ray shouted from the sound system "You! Carry his cross!" This was the point which the soldiers picked up my custom cross with the pre nailed nails and made Simon carry it from that point on. I'm not sure this breed of Roman Soldier actually had the brain power to plan something like this but it sure worked into their evil plan to give ultimate punishment to this Jesus poser. Remember my custom cross with pre nailed nails? Well with me laying on the ground face down and the custom cross with pre nailed nails resting on my back, one of the Soldiers picked up one side of the custom cross.....well you get the idea. This made the other end of the cross come flying down to the ground and the pre nailed nail smacked me right on the face just below my eye! It literally knocked me dizzy and I immediately could feel the blood beginning to run down my face. We continued on with the Cantata and the thing is that all of these unfortunate events actually made what promised to be a sterile Easter Cantata a huge success. Very realistic many would tell us later. Those Roman Soldiers claimed that they just got caught up in the excitement of the drama, but instead of learning from the character that I had just portrayed, I nursed my injuries as I plotted my revenge.
Friday, April 15, 2011
The Storm
Well I found myself awakened at 2 am this morning by a friendly call notifying me that a tornado was heading my way. So as my wife/meteorologist was checking in with the weather ninja online and turning on the telly, ......we lost power! Only for a moment, but our hearts paused and then like a miracle from heaven the power jolted back on. And that's when it all went into crazy mode. Apparently the momentary loss of power created a surge that sent all of our sophisticated networked meteorological equipment (tv/internet) into a state of shock, which in turn sent us, mostly my meteorologist, into a crazy state of insanity. So it's 2 am and we are running around the house screaming TORNADO! I did a commando style belly crawl to the closet on the other end of the house where the shocked equipment is housed. Once there I used my skills to try to repair it, all the while I imagined that the tornado will be bearing down on the house at any moment. I gave the modem a good kick (learned this in Diesel Repair Academy) and then re-joined the rest of the family running around yelling TORNADO!
Eventually the hail stopped and the rain let up and we managed to log into our secret weather resource which my meteorologist with once sleepy now blood shot eyes informed me that the tornado was never even close. I sheepishly turned our house security alarm siren off and yelled to the neighbors that it was just a false alarm. (which I'm sure they appreciated)
I fell back into bed and tried to force myself to drift back to sleep in spite of the fact that I now felt like I had just finished my 12th cup of pure caffeine.
Eventually the hail stopped and the rain let up and we managed to log into our secret weather resource which my meteorologist with once sleepy now blood shot eyes informed me that the tornado was never even close. I sheepishly turned our house security alarm siren off and yelled to the neighbors that it was just a false alarm. (which I'm sure they appreciated)
I fell back into bed and tried to force myself to drift back to sleep in spite of the fact that I now felt like I had just finished my 12th cup of pure caffeine.
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