Tocky on 8/12/2017 at 06:44
I hope folks are actually reading these but I'm going to plow ahead anyway.
Since I alluded to the cottonpicker I'll tell that one. Me, Elliott, Richard, and Kevin decided we would go down an old dirt backroad late one night and do about a four mile block of walking with the old Lebannon cemetery in the middle to hang out at awhile. It was a moonlit night and that place is the oldest cemetery in the state. There has been no church there for a hundred years but there is still a small house with pews for services before burial and back then there was a guest book we used as a diary/poetry book. Stuff like "here I sit but not alone fired one up and smoked a bone." I wish I had that book now. Anyway, one day I will be buried beneath the biggest oak there where me and my buds hung out. My dad and nephew already are.
That night though we were young. Fifteen maybe. Halfway there we came upon a cottonpicker in a middle of nowhere plowed field. No idea why it was there. The field had only sprouts in it. Nowhere near time for needing it. A cottonpicker is like a large tractor or combine with an enclosed cab that sits way up high on this immense piece of machinery. Large tines stick out the front where cotton from about eight rows flows through and is stripped.
We climbed on up. Surely nobody would leave the keys in it. They did. Surely it would not crank. It did. Elliott decided he would drive. The shift was just like an H shift pattern with some extra tacked on. Simple. We got going down the rows at a fair clip and swung round to cross them bumping and bouncing over them crosswise always gaining speed and finding another gear. We reached the apex of speed at maybe thirty getting a kick out of what it could do when he shifted into the last slot. The last slot was reverse.
The Wheels locked up solid. The sudden stop threw the heavy machine tilting forward and the front tines dug into the ground lifting the whole thing off the ground to vertical. All of us fell forward hitting the windshield. I don't know how it held in it's frame. In those days they were just in a gasket and not glued in with urethane like they are today. So there we are looking down. I wish I had a picture of our faces then all pressed against the glass watching as it tilted between life and death, balanced on those tines as fate decided whether it would go on over and crush us flat beneath a couple tons of machinery. It swayed both ways and was well balanced between. I swear none of us knew which way it would go.
Finally it chose to spare us and bounced back to earth on it's huge tractor tires. We rose from where we had been jounced off our feet and looked at one another. I know it sounds nuts but we started laughing and cheering. It was how close we came I guess. That last one was reverse Elliott told us. Ya think? We turned it off and climbed down. Nobody much wanted to ride in it after that. I hope we didn't mess up those tines. That was a lot of weight on them.
We went on to the cemetery in the best kind of way that night. On foot and alive.
Tocky on 9/12/2017 at 03:52
I've always ridden motorcycles. When we were kids we had Evel Knievel for a hero so what else could we do? The first was a Honda QA 50. A mini bike. The first time my brother got on it he popped a wheelie ran straight into a fence and fell over. Cool. It was on. There was a natural ramp caused by a sunken road at my grandma's place. We would line up laying down, me and my buds, and jump over each other. Not long ways. We weren't that crazy. Even still when you got to four laying side by side it was close. That last guy was nearly squished by the rear wheel. I was on the end the day Richard flew over on a jump and let go the handle bars. The bike went on ahead a bit and burnt a black mark across his chest mid air with the rear wheel. Hilarious.
There are lots of times you nearly die. Just last year I was on a friends Harley on a trip to Fall Creek Falls, Tennessee when we (my wife and I) came around a curve and a deer stopped in the road right in front of us. He moved when he heard the tires bawling but that's just the way it is. Cars pull out in front of you or pass you on a curve or over a hill on a two lane. Lot's of stuff. Ask Gingerbread Man. He went through gravel and laid his down to a tune of forever scars and a long rehab. A buddy of mine, Kevin, got bumped off the road by a lane changing car in Cali. He lived but that place will kill you. Topanga canyon is full of idiots. And mud slides.
But they all will. Ya pays ya nickle ya takes ya chances. I once went down Lizard road on my Shadow doing one hundred all the way because I just decided I would. They make you crazy. When I topped a curve over a hill banked the wrong way I left the ground and came down on the wrong side just over the marker line for the edge of the far side lane. I had started on the inner one of my lane. Suppose a family had been in the lane I flew over? The line from the book The Outsiders was right. Go by yourself and you are a hero. Take somebody with you and you are an asshole. But once you survive the worst curve you are not going to slow down.
The only thing to do is not get on one if you know you are crazy but that's hard to do. They are a tempting animal and crazy attracts crazy. I recall doing 140 mph on a Ducati and just skipping on the road like a feather. You don't feel like you can die. You feel like a god laughing at death. I'm sure it feels like that until the moment of impact. It's like a drug and the only thing to do is stay away from it. Some guys are really good, much better than me, but everybody faces the same thing. Variances in road texture can mean everything. Equipment failure can too. I was riding with Kevin on his bike when we had a flat and had to stand up at 70 mph around a curve and do the sideways watusi back and forth until we stopped. It can always go the wrong way. Sometimes in a hilarious way though.
Every damn one of our bikes were down except Franks. We were around sixteen and bony then. We fit four on his bike. Frank, me, Kevin, and Aubrey. Frank was way up on the tank. I don't know how Aubrey was hanging on. His ass must have been on the taillight. But hey, we only had to make it to his house and we would have another bike. He could borrow his brothers. Did we keep it slow for safety? What are we a bunch of pussies?
Every road in my neck of the woods is curvy except the interstates. Hilly, curvy, valley-y. Lots of pastures. Lots of cows. We came around one curve and suddenly we were facing a lot of cow asses. A whole herd had escaped and were tramping down the road. Frank locked her down but we were doing about seventy. Everyone was packed on Franks back. I was trying to keep some weight off him but with the others on my back it was hard. I don't know how he held onto the handle bars.
We were sliding and the cows were running flat out. It was a race to see who would wind up with a tire up their ass. They could have parted but cows are not known for clear thinking in emergency situations. There was this one old heifer that was pulling up the rear and Frank seemed to center on her. There was nothing we could do at that point. We were locked and sliding. She was running flat out.
It was a race. We came right up between her legs and his knobby front tire tickled her udders as we matched speed. It was a close thing. As close as you can get and we were all just getting to the point we could ease up on the pressure we were exerting on Franks back. Then the cow did something animals are known for when they want to lighten the load in fight or flight situations. She dumped a load of steaming cow pie right onto the spinning front wheel. The results were exactly as you would expect. The shit hit the fan. From the tire it flung back on all of us. Everyone had wanted a view and were leaning to one side or the other to see if we would plant a wheel up Elsie's ass. All over all our faces.
Nobody was hurt. That's the main thing. There was a creek in that valley we could at least wash our faces in. And we did have a laugh. Not at first. Not till we got the poo from around our mouths could we guffaw. But it was funny. Hard to deny that.
Pyrian on 9/12/2017 at 04:45
Okay, that's funny as heck. :D
Tocky on 11/12/2017 at 04:30
Understand that my life is nothing to emulate. I know this better than anyone. If you want to succeed in life do not do as I have done. I have been incredibly lucky. Many many times I should have died. Somehow some benevolent spirit saved me every time. I did everything wrong. I never failed to screw up. But it needs to be a lesson to anyone who thinks they have reached the end of their rope. Life can turn out wonderful no matter what you do to mess that up. Never give up. I sat with my family today in a Methodist church and listened to the most angelic choir and orchestra and in the middle of a crescendo I looked over and saw my youngest granddaughter snuggled in the arms of my son in law and knew beyond any doubt that the world is okay. Good will triumph. Even the most hopeless and hapless will prevail.
Today was the birthday of my nephew Micheal. That is likely a story I will never tell here. He gave up. I wish he had come to me. I wish it so often. Before I had children of my own he was my hope for the future. He was funny and irreverent and the world would have been a better place with him in it. I wish he had children of his own. I wish he had faith that things would turn out okay. They do. No matter what you have been through they do. You have to believe because it's true. I'm the most undeserving and in the end I've been given the most.
I have lots of other stories. I have to tell you about the old lady who nearly killed me. I have to tell you about alphabet soup. I have many stories. Some good. Some strange. Some break my heart. But not tonight. Tonight my heart rends and twists because I know Micheal was one of the best of us and I did not know he would let go of this priceless gift of life. I did not know his story until it was too late. He is buried beneath that tree at Lebanon. One day I will be too. But until then I will squeeze every bit of wonderful happy wonder from this magical thing. When my granddaughter hugs me and I feel the love flow through me I am connected to every good thing in the universe and I know it will be okay.
It will be okay for you too. I know it will.
Tocky on 12/12/2017 at 04:37
So. I got kicked out of a few bars. This one, however, I was kicked out of three times. And they liked me there. I got on good with the bartenders and they always apologized as they led me out. But I had to go. At least until the next night. I would have gotten kicked out more but I was only there six weeks at Sheppard AFB, and like I said, they liked me.
My old high school buddy Richard was there and had introduced me to a great bunch of rowdy guys before he left for his permanent duty station at Keesler on the Gulf. These guys were as rough as me so we got along great. The only name I remember was O'Reilly because he was so big and so nuts. No way I would antagonize this guy but there is always one and he got his nose broken bad for it. Bone sticking through the skin bad. Then the guy wanted to be his friend but O'Reilly was so pissed the guy made him fight that he would have none of it. Anyway he wasn't a bad guy. I get the feeling guys had been making him fight all his life and he resented it.
So we were all drinking pitchers of draft. Everybody who showed up bought one and there was no room on the table. We started stacking them into a pyramid, some half full, some near empty, some full. O'Reilly bets me the next round I won't dive through the pyramid. So I do. I took a running go and busted them dead center. It drenched me good. Not only that but the table wasn't bolted down like I thought and it tipped over sending me rolling into the chairs at the bar. I had some vague plan about landing on my feet but it didn't work out that way. I had to go. With escort to keep me from getting lost on the way.
Later that week I see the same guys at the same table and O'Reilly is happy to see me. They had been there awhile because again the table is covered in pitchers of various levels of beer. He calls my name so of course I come. He reaches his hand across the table for a bro handshake and as soon as I grasp it he pulls me across it with pitchers a flying. Nice. I hadn't even had a beer yet. Once again I'm drenched and I have to go. We all had to go that time. That's when we went to his Mexican girlfriends house (tiny girl and him so big) and he had to break that guys nose. Oddly I felt the most bad for O'Reilly who didn't have a scratch.
The third time was the most fun. I had told them of my Baby Ruth in the pool gag I pulled in front of Tennessee Williams and one of the guys had a better one. Alphabet soup gag. It took some prep so I went and got a windbreaker from my room while another guy got the other stuff. We met outside and set it up. An open can of alphabet soup with a hole on each side for a string to tie to and then hung around my neck and hidden in the jacket about chest level.
Saturday night was a big dance night and the floor was full so we had to wait for a slow number so it would be cleared out enough for folks to see what was happening. I stagger out onto the floor bumping into folks like I'm bad drunk and I start retching loudly. It worked great. The music was low so I could be heard well and folks cleared a space for me to be alone. I bend over retching then and pour the soup between my fingers. Awwwww yuck! Get this guy outta here! Some urping from a few followed a further clearing of space. I could now be seen well from the tables too.
But what was really great was when my buddies ran up with spoons and began to eat it off the floor. The coup de gras. There was one real puke by somebody on the dance floor and a general groan of ugh that went up. I was still holding out in character until the guys started fighting over it. "Hey I wanted the carrots!" We all got kicked out then too but after that we were legend.
Tocky on 15/12/2017 at 03:40
The Baby Ruth in the pool is a good one and I wish I had come up with it but that was my buddy Craig. He was always coming up with something to pull and needing my help. Most of it was stupid stuff like twisting up a joint out of pencil shavings and putting it in the principles pencil holder where he couldn't see it but anyone who came in could. He would do anything. I once lost twenty bucks to him because I bet him he wouldn't eat a live cricket. Some of who I am is undoubtedly his fault.
This guy had parents who divorced and his dad bought him lots of stuff out of guilt. Clothes, stereo equipment, a Plymouth Duster with a blower, anything he wanted. Seriously. What kid in high school has a balanced and blue printed Duster with a full race cam and a blower? Hell he wrecked the fender on our skip day (another story) and we spent the whole day at a body shop while it got fixed so his mother wouldn't know. Just peeled off the bills. He was always trying to buy me things too. Dude, you don't have to buy my friendship, I told him every other time. Some of the stuff was pretty cool and I couldn't resist.
Anyway this time we were in Jackson with the Creative Writing Club. We put out the schools literary mag twice a year and Craig had some wicked funny stories I would illustrate for him. I illustrated everything in that mag but his stories were the most fun to do. I was also poetry editor. The club had gone to some literary conference thing that I can't recall because it bored the shit out of me. I didn't have to have anyone tell me why I liked stories.
But there was a lot of down time. We were all out at the pool being high school kids, the girls acting as if they weren't showing off their bikini bods and the guys doing a poor job of acting like we didn't notice, when he came to me with his plan. It was fucking brilliant. He gave me a Baby Ruth bar to hide while I swam to the middle of the pool and let it go. A Baby Ruth is caramel covered in peanuts then covered in chocolate. With the outside layer rubbed off a bit it looks just like a turd. He distracted them while I did it. He was good at distracting.
If nobody had noticed I would have to act as if I discovered it but Scott Fiew ran right into it with his face dog paddling. "Ew turd! Everybody out of the pool! Somebody dumped in it!" That was part of my acting. It cleared in no time. The rest was Craig and he was so perfect I could have cried. He took a long handled pool net left by the hotel on the fence and scooped it up. About twelve of us gathered round this lonely little turd looking down in disgust. The only other people around were some old fat guy under an umbrella with his flaming servant fussing over him but we paid scant attention to that.
Everybody is staring at the turd and discussing it. We can't go back in the pool now. "I don't know", Craig says, "is that really a turd?" He bends over it and looks closely. "It looks like one". He bends closer and smells of it scrunching his nose. "It smells like one". "Ew don't get near it" one of the girls says. At just the right moment when everyone is focused on him he picks it up and takes a bite. He grins at them with chocolate in his teeth and says, "yep, it tastes like one too. That's a turd folks." Scott was retching and the girls were aghast. It was great. It could not have gone better.
Of course we gave up the gag. Mostly it was given up by us laughing but we explained what we did too. Not long after our teacher Mrs. Causey comes out and recognizes the old fat guy as Tennessee Williams and goes ape shit. She oozes nice all over him and gets him to let each of us ask a question. Me and Craig are at the back of the line. By the time we get to him everybody had asked all the good stuff about The Glass Menagerie and A Streetcar Named Desire. Craig asks him what he is drinking (looks like whiskey) and Tennessee just looks at him like he is disgusted to be in his presence. Next it was my turn. All I could think was how could he not acknowledge that great joke. I had wanted to ask why he didn't stick to horror like his first publication in Weird Tales but I couldn't get past his lack of humor. Sweat rolled down his face as he looked at me like I was a talking slug with intellect to match so I said "hot ain't it?"
The man was a bonafide genius, no doubt about it, so how in hell could he not appreciate that joke? Did he miss it? It still puzzles me.
Tocky on 17/12/2017 at 04:36
IF I tell every single story of my life then everyone is going to know everything about me and I'm still not going to know shit about you guys. Do you think that's fair? Okay it's fair because I started this shit. Damn it.
Okay. I feel like I should say something about my girlfriends. They were so nice to me and I was such a shit. Okay I'm glad that's over. No wait. Maybe a bit more.
Okay in sixth grade I met three of my best friends for life but also one more only she was a girl. I used to pop Karen's bra strap because she sat right in front of me and I kind of liked her. I talked with her like I would any friend and flirted because I love to flirt. However she became smitten and wrote me over the summer. SWAK with a pair of drawn lips on the back of every envelope. That's sealed with a kiss. She would tell me what she wanted to do with me and I would not exactly disagree.
Back at school I didn't say I loved her or anything but I did buy her a Saint Christopher necklace which was a big thing at the time. I made her laugh a lot, I disconcerted her at odd times, I flirted at odd times, all the things that make a girl fall for you. I never said I love you or will you go with me or anything like that but I knew what I was doing. I even wanted to love her but I just couldn't. I liked her. She was pretty enough, blue eyes and dark hair, and willing plenty.
So it was a dick move when I moved from my usual spot to behind Anita. She was damned interesting. Had this really sardonic sense of humor and a deep laugh she used plenty and to good effect. I called her for awhile. She would tell me of her alcoholic father straining shoe polish through a loaf of bread and I would be amazed at this strange world she lived in. She was also best friends with my cousin and we told each other the goofiest jokes. But I must have hurt Karen.
I never explained anything. I did what I felt. I got my comeuppance though. I still talked with Karen and walked to class with her at times. Once while walking with her Tommy came up behind me and knocked my books out of my hands. As I picked them up vowing to get him back he continued with her. Tommy and me had fought back in fourth grade a few times but I had become friends with him since. We got along good I thought.
So later I see them walking together and sneak up to knock his books out of his hands. He tells me he is going to get me. Well fine get me now I tell him. He just pouts and I rush on to the field house to get in my gear for football. As I'm pulling up my pants with those lumpy ill fitting pads I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn right into a fist. What the fuck? I fell back into my equipment locker. By the time I get out of it he had gone to his own locker.
I'm standing there hurt because well... I say it out loud like an idiot. "I thought we were friends". I realize how stupid that sounds because one of the brothers repeats it in a mocking tone. I would have laughed but damn it my feelings were hurt. "Well lets go then. Come on." But he just keeps getting dressed and I'm standing there with my pants half down feeling foolish so I get dressed. Then we play football. I wore a damn black eye for a week unsure whether I should push the issue or not. It wasn't whether or not to fight. I was just confused. He wouldn't even look at me.
I continued being friends with Karen. We still are to this day. When we meet at a restaurant or grocery we always speak and catch up. True there was the one time on a ride home from, well, I think it was that Creative Writing conference when we started kissing and continued all the way home on the bus which was a ride of over a hundred miles. She was a good kisser. Then when we had our ten year reunion Bill remembers and says some stupid shit about it in front of her husband and it gets real quiet until I deflect the conversation into a funny area. Bill was a dumbass.
Anyway we all live our lives and one day Tommy comes into the shop where I work and I'm sitting at my desk and we are catching up and talking about his time in Oregon and how great that was to raise his girls in and what happened to other of our classmates when Karen comes up and he tells me she is single again which was a surprise and a sadness as I hoped this one would be permanent. (At our twentieth reunion when another girl had asked me how I had managed to stay married Karen had said "he found the right one" and I was so grateful to her for that because it meant she understood. She really is wonderful. I pointed out she had too. I was wrong apparently.) Tommy was sad for her too. We didn't understand why it didn't last for her.
But here is the thing. It blew my mind to finally understand Tommy was in love with Karen back then. It must have pissed him off she was so hung up on me. I understood now. Thinking about those days must have reminded him of the time he punched me though because he got real funny then. I can't explain it. I knew that he knew all of a sudden that I owed him a punch. Why he would think I would hold a grudge I don't know but I swear I could feel him tensing to defend himself. It actually made me think about doing it finally. But that's silly. I started talking about my grand kids and he told me of his.
I was glad he came in. It made sense now. Those times were such a whirlwind of emotion and I never knew if I was doing the right thing. I was just happy to understand finally. But you know what? I think I had to pay for Karen. Not right away. There were a few girls in between but one got me good. That would be Laurie and what a payback that was. It will take quite a while to tell that one. We were both so wild I thought I had found my soulmate. I loved her so much and she cut me all the way to the core. I still recall the ache though I no longer feel it except in memory.
Tocky on 21/12/2017 at 05:40
Rebs rule: never tell.
Reb Bailey was a senior and I was a freshman but we shared a room when we went to the state cattle judging championships in Starkville. I came in fourth which wasn't bad for somebody that never owned a cow but I was in FFA (Future Farmers of America) because they got out of school a lot on trips like this. Plus the Mid South Fair in Memphis which was a carnival/agricultural exhibit was a thing we were bused to each year and that was cool. But anyway, he gave me some good advise which is rare in high school. We were talking about girls when he said they wanted it more than we did. I didn't believe that. He swore it was true. He said they just have more to lose than we do. They have a reputation to uphold and are looked down on by other girls and the guys think they are easy and just want them for that if they find out they put out. It made sense. His rule was never tell. There is no sense bragging. Who gives a damn what other guys think? Exactly right. Not that I was planning on it if I ever got anywhere anyway. So here I am about to break Reb's rule. Maybe forty years makes a difference.
Y'all thought I was about tell some gay shit.
I guess I'm working my way up to Laurie with a mild sort of dread. Well after a dalliance with Anita there was Tammy who I met at Shere's restaurant before football. Several of us who lived out in the country just stayed after school and hung out there to play pinball and fooseball and drink a shake before a game. I think she was the first I ever had that instant pull for. We kept catching each other looking at each other. She had blue eyes and blonde hair and a splash of freckles across her nose and cheeks. So when my buddy Aubrey came in with his girl and his girl turned out to be her friend I had an instant in. We got along great.
Real great. I would meet her at the old skating rink though I couldn't skate a lick. When I came in she would hang up her skates and we would go to Aubrey's brothers car and steam the windows till they all got sick of skating. We didn't go all the way but we rounded the bases. That was a lovely winter. I'll just say that every time a girl takes off her shirt for you it is a magical thing. In winter particularly.
Anyway her family moved off before the next fall. I wonder if she ever thinks of me. I hope in her memories I'm as fondly recalled as she is in mine. There is something pathetic about old men remembering being young though you could never tell it by Bob Seger. He made a mint off that damn song. It was a good one.
Next came Pam who was Jewish and I enjoyed finding out the Yiddish words for things. When it got to yea esca day (that's what it sounded like) which I found out meant "I love you" I moved on. I felt kind of bad about that. She said such sweet things when she signed my annual even after. But I'm a dick and I knew that one wasn't going anywhere. I had already been lured by the siren call of an older woman. A sophomore no less.
She was in band. I was in football. It worked out well. We met behind the field house and smooched a lot. Not much else though she did write me fifteen to twenty page letters about what she wanted to do and where she was when she wrote them and what she was touching. Riveting reading. She broke up with me for another boy alas. I met her in a bar many years later and she asked me out. I told her nah I was good. I was going to leave it at that out of spite but she said damn you hold a grudge. That was funny so I let her know I was going with someone. Nice girl actually. We shared a lamaze class when my wife got pregnant.
I'm almost certain I've lost everybody at this point. This is meandering as hell. I don't blame anyone for not reading this crap. Anyway after Shelia there was Cheryl. She was my first in a car date. We went to see The Goodbye Girl at Cinema 6 theater. She was so pretty and had such a great smile. I recall her necklace with her name in script and sparkling eyes and pink lipstick that I waited too long to kiss so that she was too eager when it happened and we clacked teeth. It was still a great kiss. I asked were there any broken teeth and she hit me on the shoulder. She was interesting. I should have dated her more.
I was a slut though and moved on to Lynn. We kissed a lot in this one alcove before school. She hardly wrote me any letters and honestly didn't seem to care for me except for fooling around. We went on one date and she had to make it a double so I asked Elliott to go and he went. His date was Laurie, her best friend. No idea what movie we saw. I kept feeling like Elliott got the best end of the deal though. After the date he told me how far he had gotten and I just felt bad for her that he didn't know the Reb rule. He couldn't understand it even when I told him.
Lynn broke up with me to date some ugly ginger with a lot of money. I wasn't exactly heart broken but somebody called to make sure I was okay. Laurie. Anybody still with me? Bueller? Bueller? This next I'm not sure what to tell all of. I may blow by some things quick that are full stories or I may tell most. I may break it into several small stories. I don't know. I still feel funny breaking the Reb rule.
zacharias on 21/12/2017 at 05:58
Just to say thank you Tocky, starker etc. this has been the best thread on ttlg for absolutely ages. You should go on an after dinner speaking tour with these stories..
Sulphur on 21/12/2017 at 09:50
I'm reading these like an anthology of episodic tales, and they're great. Keep going, Tocks.
