Wedding Plans and V

Remember the mini-series V? It was about aliens who came to earth and acted all friendly, but then it turned out they were just here to steal resources. I can't remember if it was water or air they wanted, but I do remember that they must have had cows on their home planet since they all wore red and black leather outfits with strong V-shaped necklines. The other thing I remember about "V" was that during their wedding ceremonies the guy would have to eat a live mouse after the vows. I think we'd see a lot less divorce in this country if we adopted such a plan. Las Vegas weddings would be virtually wiped out overnight, and guys would really, really have to be sure about wanting to get married before they proposed. The only downside is that it would make the kiss at the end of the ceremony pretty gnarly.

The Health Teacher

My French teacher in high school had an affair with the principal. It was one of those things that no one was supposed to know about but everyone did, kind of like we all knew which teachers had DUIs or moonlighted as bookies. I ran into my 7th grade Health teacher about a week ago. I told her that things were going well with my health education, and she nodded and said "good" in a way that made me think maybe she didn't realize I was joking. I wanted to be like, "Listen. The jig is up; I know you don't really care about my eduction in health and that's cool because, frankly, it would be kind of weird if you did." I wanted to let her know that now that I'm out of the 7th grade, I understand that teachers actually change out of their slacks and sweaters and have lives of their own. I didn't want to go nuts on her, though, so I let it slide.

Crazy People Don't Drive

I spent an afternoon on foot in Charlotte, North Carolina and must have been the only sane person in that part of the city that didn't own a car. Everyone I saw walking or biking either yelled at me or yelled at themselves while passing by. Two people walking yelled at me while I was climbing over a stopped train, and the guy biking on the sidewalk yelled at me to take my headphones out so I could hear him telling me to move. The sidewalk was big enough for both of us, but he said it wasn't his first day on a bike. In that neighborhood walking instead of driving automatically means you're insane, and drivers treat you as such. No one in a car would give me directions or stop so I could run across the highway. Actually, I guess running across highways and climbing over trains is kind of indicative of insanity. Maybe they were right to trust their instincts.

Whatever Happened to Doug?

We used to hangout with a guy named Doug who was from my hometown, and he would wet the bed whenever he stayed over at our house. It won him the nickname "CouchPisser Doug" until we took him Frisbee Golfing and he shot a -3 on his first time out. Then we started calling him "Three-Under Doug," which I'm sure he liked a lot more than the first nickname. I'm unclear why, maybe it was jealousy over his stellar beginner's luck on the Frisbee Golf course, but someone started a rumor that he gave handjobs for $3. Maybe it was confusion surrounding the nickname "Three Under." From then on, he was known as "CouchPisserHandJobThree-Under Doug." We named a character after him on the NHL '97 video game when we created a team, and it was always a delight when he scored a goal and his name ticketed across the bottom of the screen. He was in school to become a teacher, and the last time I saw him he said he was teaching math at a school in the suburbs. He was considering memorizing a dance from a popular rap video to do at a middle-school dance that he was chaperoning later that week. I kind of wonder what nicknames the kids at his school have given him.

The Muscle Shocker Experiment

I can't sleep with that muscle shocker in the house. My friend's mom bought a Walkman-sized machine that's supposed to give you rock-hard abs while you eat popcorn and watch TV. Instead of cranking out Jock Jams that would inspire you to workout, that little machine causes your muscles to jump to attention a few times per second through a series of electrical shocks. You might be able to lie on the couch, but you can't escape the "No Pain, No Gain" ethos. Well, actually, the muscle shocker doesn't produce abs of steel, so I guess you did escape the hackneyed phrase by not getting the "Gain". Regardless, there's no way I'll be able to get a good night's sleep if it's around. If there's a device that better lends itself to practical jokes, I haven't found it. I was dozing on the couch when people were playing with the machine, and it ruined the nap I was supposed to be taking before driving everyone back home. Then again, I could have used it to help me stay awake on the road after everyone else fell asleep.

Small Town Reporting and End-Over-End Car Crashes

There was an end-over-end car crash in the tiny town where I worked on Fridays. The small town newspaper I wrote for would loan me to their affiliate one day a week. It was biggest news since someone had fallen off scaffolding right in front of the newspaper office (he was uninjured). My editor called and told me to go to the scene and take a picture, but since I was in the small town I'd only worn jeans and a hoody, and I'd spilled coffee all over my chest the moment the phone rang. I told him I didn't have a camera, which was true since the newspaper only had one digital camera and it was in his car. Over the phone he directed me to a bottom desk drawer that contained a pristine Polaroid Camera that looked like it came out of a 1979 Sears ad. I was instructed to go to the scene in my fire-engine red Chevy Cavalier and take a Polaroid of the accident, which we would later scan. The weirdest thing about small towns is that no one says anything when a guy with coffee spilled down his chest hops out of a Chevy Cavalier and starts taking Polaroids of a car accident scene. In fact, I wasn't even the only one doing it.

Shout Outs and Boom Shaka-Laka

I hope I never get interviewed on a live newscast, because I'm afraid that I would yell that I want to give a Shout Out to someone at the end of the interview. Then I'd be just another one of those guys who tries to Raise the Roof and give Shout Outs to people. Then again, I never thought I'd say the phrase Boom Shaka-Laka again. One of my friends ran into a roommate's old high school speech teacher, and she said she still remembered my roommate because he used the phrase Boom Shaka-Laka in every speech. I think that's a fairly remarkable accomplishment considering the breadth of topics you need to speak on in any high school speech class. Since then, I've found myself yelling Boom Shaka-Laka on several occasions.

The Family Newsletter Writers

I love the people who write those annual or quarterly newsletters about what's going on with their family. I used to think it was a crappy way of staying in touch, but then someone invented Facebook and now it seems like a personal way of reaching out to family. One of my friends gets a family newsletter that features recipes alongside a monthly bible verse. I tried putting together my own monthly newsletter modeled after his family's, but I was going to give updates on my roommates and what was going on in our house. I thought it would be nice for our friends who had bought houses and began having kids to find out that our house had just gotten a kegerator and that the local bar was giving 3-for-1s for two hours on Tuesdays. Sadly, this project never came to fruition since besides those two pieces of news we had nothing else going on.

All These Houses Look Alike

A roommate's co-worker came in from the suburbs one Thursday night when we were going to a couple bars. After some local drink specials and zealous karaoke, he was in no shape to drive home, so we set him up in another roommate's bedroom who was off working on a cruise ship for a few months. We propped the guy in bed and then settled in for the night, and I didn't think twice when I saw he was gone in the morning. A couple weeks later I found out that we made a mistake putting him in the only bedroom that had a private entrance from outside. He apparently woke up in the middle of the night with the urgent need to throw up, and stumbled outside since he couldn't find anywhere else suitable, which is reasonable since he came to in a strange bedroom that was pitch black. His trouble arose when, after he was done being sick, he went back inside. He sat on the couch and said, "Are you guys Nate's roommates?" To which one replied, "I think you're in the wrong house man." He's lucky that the two guys sitting on our neighbors couch were stoners rather than gun nuts.

Sheep! All of You!

Twice in my life a passerby has yelled "Sheep!" at a group I was part of. The first time was when I'd stopped at a heavy metal bar to get a drink, but the place was inherently terrible since it was a heavy metal bar, so I decided to just use their bathroom then leave. While standing in line, a guy walking past yelled, "Stand in line! Just like they tell you! Sheep!" I'm not sure what he would have rather had us do. Maybe instead of being a conformist I could have wet my pants. He probably would have given me a high-five for sticking to my contrarian value set. The second time was time someone yelled, "Sheep! All of you!" was a couple days ago when I was standing over my bike waiting for a bunch of people in suits to cross the street. It was a little funny, but the guy who yelled it was an insane transient, which took some of the polish off. Also, walking to work in a suit beats the alternative lifestyle espoused by the transient.

Locking your Keys Inside is Embarrassing Enough

My friend got out of the National Guard few years ago, but during his enlistment heyday we took a road trip together, and by the end of it I'd heard so many stories about National Guard that I felt like I'd been through basic training. The best story I heard, which I'm sure he later regretted telling me since I've retold it to so many of our mutual friends, was about the time his buddy locked his keys in the tank. Apparently tanks have several doors, and one time the driver crawled out through a side door that automatically locked behind him. I don't know if he thought other people were still in the tank or they'd left the other doors open, but they had to sit outside the running tank while waiting for someone to run and get a key. The story actually gets better, because this particular brand of tank didn't have a gun on it. Oh man, I laughed so hard when he told me that. It would have been better if instead of a gun, the tank had a white flag permanently attached in the gun's spot.

Badass Posturing at the Dentist Office

A filling fell out and I didn't even notice. The dentist told me the other day right before pointing to the hole in my tooth while I watched in a mirror. I was glad she showed me since I think that dentists are the new car mechanics in terms of selling you fixes you don't really need. You can actually get two kinds of fillings: The plastic white ones that look natural, or the metal ones that people can see when you laugh. The metal ones last about six or seven years and the plastic last a couple years less than that. I always request the plastic ones and then tell the dentist that I can go with the shorter span ones because I probably won't live that long since I'm such a badass. They don't seem to buy it, but at least it gets me on the laughing gas a little bit more often.

UFO Sightings

I'm way less into UFO's now than I used to be. You could accurately describe my interest in UFOs as "very little to none." I heard a story about something the size of a football field that flew over a populated part of Texas, but I didn't bother looking into the details. It's a good thing that UFO didn't fly over Texas when I was a 5th grader looking forward to seeing Fire in the Sky, because it's all I would have thought about for months. I think almost everyone has a story they can tell about seeing unexplained lights in the sky or mysterious aircraft on the horizon--especially among the outdoors crowd. It happens during a long drive home after a day of skiing or week of eating peyote buttons in an Argentine sweat lodge. I saw three UFOs in my neighborhood once, but they turned out to be spotlights reflecting off the clouds from a newly opened strip club.

Montana Check Points and Canadian Gasoline Bandits

I thought I was going to get carjacked by a group of gasoline bandits when I was driving across Montana in the middle of the night one time. As navigator on a month-long road trip, I'd planned a route off the interstate across the northern reaches of Montana. It looked good on a map, but gas stations that closed at 8pm and a booming deer population that had no fear of running around on the road ratcheted up the intensity. That intensity peaked when, after not seeing another vehicle for hours, a woman holding a stop sign in front of a car parked across the middle of the road insisted I stop. She stood beneath a light so bright that it effectively washed out everything beyond its range. I could hear stuff going on in the dark, but it was impossible for me to see their Mad Max cars and homemade gatling gun. I knew they were creeping up to steal my friend's teal Ford Taurus and all our camping gear. Loads of gas station Stay-Awake! meds likely contributed to my paranoia, but my friend was also certain we were getting robbed. His opinion may have been influenced by me shaking him awake and telling him we were getting car jacked. After a standoff of a few minutes, the woman flipped the sign to 'slow' and pointed at a truck marked 'pilot car' that we were meant to follow. It lead us off the road and onto the plains, and right when I expected them to park the car and get out and take our stuff, we pulled back onto the road where my headlights lit up another woman holding a sign that said 'slow.' We got out of there as fast as the deer wandering the road would let us. Something odd was going on; Montana wouldn’t do 24-hour road construction in the middle of nowhere. The Canadian Gasoline Bandits probably let us go because they saw our sweet hatchet in the backseat of the Taurus.

Vague Directions

I'll point in certain directions when I'm talking about faraway places. When I reference Wisconsin or anywhere in the Midwest, I'll point over my shoulder with a thumb like I just walked up the road from there. I'll tell people about a great Mexican restaurant in Utah while raising my index finger as if its in the middle of the park across the street. The direction I point in never coincides with where the place is actually located. And why should it? I'm only indicating the place isn't here; that it's out in the ether somewhere. It's not like the person I'm talking to is going to walk there based on the direction I'm pointing.

Creepy Camp Stories

A guy I met said that he was looking through some photos he'd shot during a long solo hiking trip when he got back home, and he found a photo of himself sleeping peacefully in his tent from the middle of his trip. Either he has a camera remote or wolves have developed opposable thumbs and we're all screwed. The story creeped me out at first, but now it just seems funny that someone would go through a guy's pack while he's asleep, take a picture of him with his own camera, and then put the camera back. This kind of behavior is something I will definitely engage in if ever given a chance.

Step 9 Nights

One of my friends refers to nights when he drinks too much beer and does stupid things as 'step 9 nights.' Apparently when you enter the 12-step program to sobriety, step 9 is where you have to call everyone you've ever wronged while under the influence of alcohol or drugs and apologize for your behavior. So nights where he gets so off his rocker that he needs to call around and apologize for destroying someone's dining room set or throwing up on a birthday cake would qualify as a 'step 9 night.'

Corporate E-mail Address Mistakes

One of my friends buys available website domain names after he's been drinking. It'll probably make him rich. Another of my friends keeps his eye out for multi-national companies that make the mistake of offering their customers free e-mail addresses through their website. You don't see this too often now that powerhouses like Gmail offer so much more than those old crappy POP mail accounts, but when you see it you need to pounce if you want the good e-mail addresses. When Corona or Jack Daniels give you the chance to send and receive e-mails with "@corona.com" or "@jackdaniels.com" at the end of your address, you want to reserve "amateurcasting," "contaminatedbeer," and "contest" as soon as possible.

Test Marketing and Cutting Red Tape

A friend's dad works at Burger King. I told her it's my favorite restaurant and she hooked me up with some coupons for free Whoppers. No big deal. Anyway, there were boatloads of little kids running around work the other day, and we agreed that another "Take Your Kid to Work Day" must have crept up on us. She said that she went to work at the Burger King headquarters when she was a little kid. She said the kids were all separated from their parents and then given piles of up-and-coming BK food and asked what they thought of it. That experience sounded so cool that I missed the point that Burger King was experimenting on the children of their employees. This, to me, is the genius of The King. Take the kids away so the parents still get their work done, and then treat the employees' kids as a test market that would normally require a lot of red tape parental approval and hefty payments. I try to remind myself of this little story whenever I wonder how they can sell such delicious burgers so cheaply.

Girls in Trucker Hats Seem More Approachable

A cute girl puts on a trucker hat and every guy thinks he has a chance. It brings the beautiful down to earth and makes you think, "Maybe that girl doesn't realize how hot she is; maybe we'll hit it off." My friend hit on a young woman at a small bar in a dark corner of the Bellagio. She was way out of his league but wearing the inviting trucker hat. I think he told her that he was an Imagineer at Disney. That's a cross between an engineer, someone with a lot of imagination, and the Rocketeer. The trucker-hatted woman turned out to be a prostitute and didn't seem too impressed with my friend's Disney credentials, but the point is that trucker hats make women more approachable.