'Planting Tulips around Mr McGinty's stump' is a line I will never forget. It was the first 'Champ' episode I heard when my Father introduced me to what is now a radio legend. I laughed so hard at the 'Champ' that my cheeks hurt and I felt sick to my stomach, yet in the room sat two others that hardly cracked a smile. That's what it was like, you either busted a gut over his antics or you thought it was the stupidest thing you ever heard.
The 'Champ', for those that don't know, was simply the voice of an ex boxer who, through hilarious plays on words, told stories of his buddies and family in a very crude and crass manner. 'PARRRDONNN', was his signature line and when he said it, you knew that someone was going to get faked, then punched in the breadbasket. There was Knuckles Muldoon and a cast of various other hard tickets, but the Champ's wife was the focal point. If anyone dared to put her in a 'position' that didn't fit the Champs liking, they were beat in a most delirious fashion. His misinterpretation of what was said is legendary. For instance, never ask the Champ if he wants his balls washed while on the golf course or if he met Don Cherry and Blue his dog, he will 'Snap and Lose it' and finish your day for you.
I actually wrote a couple of episodes of the Champ back in 2000 and had fun doing it. I had sent them off to our local radio station and still think that someday I'll hear them while driving down the highway, possibly to the Old Log Inn. How far is the Old Log Inn you ask? Don't ask the Champ if you know what's good for ya. They definitely had some Maritime flair to them.
That was the beauty of the Champ, anyone could relate, simplistic in nature, yes repetitive, but a whole lot of laughs to cheer up your day......Ever Since, I've been the Champ!....
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Merge Dammit!!!!
I know that the drivers of Nova Scotia do not really know what the word 'MERGE' means and how it affects the stream of life in a city. Many times I have said, "if only we could throw some of these drivers into a big city and show them what it is to really merge properly", the majority of them wouldn't last after the first on ramp, stuck in the middle of the road, holding their hands over their ears and repeating the same words over and over, "..help me, help me, help me..". If only they could merge into traffic as well as they frantically 'merge' in front of people in a line up at Tim Horton's or knock me over at the trinket table at the flea market!!
Take these defining words and see how well you fit into the category of a good merger (and I'm not talking about the Survivor kind). Combine, coalesce, unite gradually, blend, swallowed up, absorbed, fuse..scanning these quickly you'll notice there is nothing that resembles these words...Stop abruptly, braking, waiting, scared, can't see over steering wheel, wall-eyed, whiplash, make up your F%$&*@# mind. It's a ramp you're driving on for a reason! The purpose of the extra pavement in front of you is to gain speed before MERGING into moving traffic. If there wasn't a ramp, yes, it would be a stop sign and you would have to wait. Maybe a good idea would be to have at the end of every merge ramp a huge pit that you'd fall in or an ocean to careen into. If all you're interested in is taking it from behind, it might hurt but at least you won't have to involve the cops or an insurance company if you merge properly.
That was a little harsh, but those moments are very frustrating for a good driver. I actually clap my hands when someone merges properly. Yes, I physically applaud while driving when I witness good, competent skills on the highway because of how poorly the masses drive. Which leads me to wonder, what is being taught in these driving schools now anyway?! We used to complain about old people and their crazy habits, but 9 times out of 10 the person pissing me off now is a young punk, either texting, listening to the melodic sounds of his giant muffler or looking for his eardrums on the floor as he 'BOOM BOOOOOM's' by, his side mirrors vibrating off his car. And please don't get me started on the differences between drivers from our very culturally diverse city. I have traveled to many countries and have seen the chaos first hand, I love it, but it seems in friendly old Nova Scotia that no matter who we are or where we're from, we tend to drive with the same politeness we most often give off as Canadians.......maybe the sign should read, "MERGE...Please".....
Take these defining words and see how well you fit into the category of a good merger (and I'm not talking about the Survivor kind). Combine, coalesce, unite gradually, blend, swallowed up, absorbed, fuse..scanning these quickly you'll notice there is nothing that resembles these words...Stop abruptly, braking, waiting, scared, can't see over steering wheel, wall-eyed, whiplash, make up your F%$&*@# mind. It's a ramp you're driving on for a reason! The purpose of the extra pavement in front of you is to gain speed before MERGING into moving traffic. If there wasn't a ramp, yes, it would be a stop sign and you would have to wait. Maybe a good idea would be to have at the end of every merge ramp a huge pit that you'd fall in or an ocean to careen into. If all you're interested in is taking it from behind, it might hurt but at least you won't have to involve the cops or an insurance company if you merge properly.
That was a little harsh, but those moments are very frustrating for a good driver. I actually clap my hands when someone merges properly. Yes, I physically applaud while driving when I witness good, competent skills on the highway because of how poorly the masses drive. Which leads me to wonder, what is being taught in these driving schools now anyway?! We used to complain about old people and their crazy habits, but 9 times out of 10 the person pissing me off now is a young punk, either texting, listening to the melodic sounds of his giant muffler or looking for his eardrums on the floor as he 'BOOM BOOOOOM's' by, his side mirrors vibrating off his car. And please don't get me started on the differences between drivers from our very culturally diverse city. I have traveled to many countries and have seen the chaos first hand, I love it, but it seems in friendly old Nova Scotia that no matter who we are or where we're from, we tend to drive with the same politeness we most often give off as Canadians.......maybe the sign should read, "MERGE...Please".....
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Balls are Everywhere!
Is it just me or are 'balls' the new 'in' thing? Especially on TV, 'balls' are everywhere! Its a phenomenon right now that just seems to be gaining momentum, rolling along, picking up all those who like to laugh at the notion that the 'balls' that everyone is talking about are those of the male persuasion and we must all giggle about it. It seemed to start with that new hit show a few years ago, Wipeout, when these giant red balls were used to propel an endless amount of suckers who thought they were athletes into icy waters below them. The commentators making sure to say 'balls' every chance they got, knew that children above the age of 10 and adult males up to the age of 45, who never really grew up at all, would laugh their asses off and watch the show. Or maybe it began a few years before that when Alec BaLLdwin was making his 49th appearance as host on Saturday Night Live and played the now infamous chef Pete Schwetty. Guaranteed to be one of the most hilarious skits you will ever see, Baldwin and his two very stiff female radio hosts had us all in stitches commenting on his tender, succulent signature Schwetty balls. Why, just watching television tonight I was bombarded with first an advertisement about a fantastic new vacuum cleaner, the 'Dyson Ball' and then flicked through at least 12 channels, all of them having a very familiar game centered around an orange spherical object that I'm quite sure was referred to as a ball! It was madness! Well it was March Madness of course. No one was making fun of those balls, but they're still everywhere I turn.
You can just imagine what happened when I 'googled' this craziness! Stress balls at work, fitness balls at the gym, wrecking balls, like no one could have come up with the wrecking cube!?...Fushigi Balls, helping you to feel your inner self and then the endless amount of sites that popped up which I cannot name on this post. I'm starting to sound like that old guy on 60 Min, Andy Rooney!...only, I'd refer to him as just plain nuts!....
You can just imagine what happened when I 'googled' this craziness! Stress balls at work, fitness balls at the gym, wrecking balls, like no one could have come up with the wrecking cube!?...Fushigi Balls, helping you to feel your inner self and then the endless amount of sites that popped up which I cannot name on this post. I'm starting to sound like that old guy on 60 Min, Andy Rooney!...only, I'd refer to him as just plain nuts!....
Monday, March 21, 2011
Audio Entry..Not what you think...
Today I tried something different. I took a page out of a 'Friday Challenge' my mother had up last week. She's a writer and always challenges her followers as well as herself to different obstacles in writing to open the mind. You can check her out at labanan.blogspot.com. When I say I took a page out of her challenge, I mean that I used her idea but threw in my own twist. The bottom portion of this post (in italics) was created from an iphone app. I said what i wanted to into the phone and it printed this, trying to catch some emotion and slang that was spoken outloud. The only editing is in the form of punctuation. Tell me if you think it works....or doesn't...
So, ma just left us to fend for ourselves of course going off to work so my brother said let's cook up some chicken Popeye's, that's of course back in the day when they didn't have microwave chicken pot pies so we had to cook for 45 min. in the oven. We loved the taste of the crust and waiting for 45 min. wasn't a bother. So they were in there for 45 min. or an hour and my brother goes over for both, grabs the oven mitts around the stove and pulls out the rack, picks up the first pie with the gloves and one falls out of his hand and upside down on the floor. We both look at each other in agony and my brother says, " That ones yours!".....
Haha....True story, by the way. We of course wrestled for the other one! I think this worked for the most part. Obviously 'Popeye' is supposed to be 'pot pie', but that's going to happen in translation..I'm going to use this strategy more often, it's quicker when you are a slow typer.
So, ma just left us to fend for ourselves of course going off to work so my brother said let's cook up some chicken Popeye's, that's of course back in the day when they didn't have microwave chicken pot pies so we had to cook for 45 min. in the oven. We loved the taste of the crust and waiting for 45 min. wasn't a bother. So they were in there for 45 min. or an hour and my brother goes over for both, grabs the oven mitts around the stove and pulls out the rack, picks up the first pie with the gloves and one falls out of his hand and upside down on the floor. We both look at each other in agony and my brother says, " That ones yours!".....
Haha....True story, by the way. We of course wrestled for the other one! I think this worked for the most part. Obviously 'Popeye' is supposed to be 'pot pie', but that's going to happen in translation..I'm going to use this strategy more often, it's quicker when you are a slow typer.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Les Expos, Kareem and a thing called Passion..
The Montreal Expos were very important to me. Baseball was of course a summer sport and my buds and I definitely played some ball in between swimming in Lower Grant lake and goofing off at Chester Race Week. Our coach was a man by the name of Paul Gale, now 'Pops' i believe, and he taught us the best way he knew how. We were like the Bad News Bears at times but what fun we had. Pops would later play basketball with us in various pick up leagues and still to this day remains a figure we look up to. Montreal was our team.
The Expos, with their baby blues, Youppie and a catcher named 'The Kid' would tantalize us all summer with grace and power. I can still picture them all in my head, Tim Raines, Cromartie, Andre Dawson, Gary Carter, Tim Wallach, Francona, Parrish, Scott and the infamous Steve Rogers who in the end gave us what we all know as 'Blue Monday', a starter coming out of the bullpen (instead of Jeff Reardon, who maybe should have) in that fateful 5th game of the NLCS to serve up a crushing homer to Rick Monday and the Dodgers. I'll never forget my friend Garnet and I watching the game together and losing our minds when it happened. I think we beat up my brother actually. We cried as well. That's how big of fans we were. They, like the Ottawa Rough Riders, left and took a piece of our hearts, leaving another league I really don't feel like watching anymore. The memories will always stick though. Even the announcers were the greatest! Dave Van Horne and The Duke! Gary Carter had the 'check swing' homerun (my brother still laughs when i say that), The Hawk patrolling centre field and Tim Raines stealing bases with ease. It was magical.
Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and the LA Lakers....A book was given to me about a guy named Lew Alcindor. I knew him to be Kareem Abdul-Jabbar as I followed the Lakers and had heard about his UCLA days with John Wooden. What I didn't know was how interesting a man Kareem really was. A good portion of the book was devoted to the relationship he formed with Bruce Lee during his early years in the NBA. He was actually a student of Lee's, who taught him martial as well as meditation. Kareem used this new found learning to help him in his sport and as many of you know, Kareem went on to be the most prolific scorer in the NBA, amassing over 40 000 pts with his patented Sky-Hook that to this day has never been used or perfected by any other player. All of those Laker-Celtic battles that happened so frequently in the 80's were watched by my buddies and I and then we'd go out, no matter the weather, and battle it out on the court ourselves. If you weren't a Lakers fan, you didn't like Kareem and you absolutely despised his hook shot and laziness. I loved it!
It's not hard to tell from these last two sports posts what really motivates me. I have a passion for all of these teams and players and whether they were forced upon me or just draped on my upper torso, I have never given up on them and that includes the ones that have disappeared. If you see me on the couch watching Green Bay or the Canadiens in the play-offs, well you better be prepared to see me on the floor in agony or jumping with a fist in the air. Nothing in this world makes me as nervous as watching them. I believe the only time that this will change is when I decide to try coaching a team by myself. Those poor kids won't know what hit them!...The 'Drive' comes from the 'Passion'......
The Expos, with their baby blues, Youppie and a catcher named 'The Kid' would tantalize us all summer with grace and power. I can still picture them all in my head, Tim Raines, Cromartie, Andre Dawson, Gary Carter, Tim Wallach, Francona, Parrish, Scott and the infamous Steve Rogers who in the end gave us what we all know as 'Blue Monday', a starter coming out of the bullpen (instead of Jeff Reardon, who maybe should have) in that fateful 5th game of the NLCS to serve up a crushing homer to Rick Monday and the Dodgers. I'll never forget my friend Garnet and I watching the game together and losing our minds when it happened. I think we beat up my brother actually. We cried as well. That's how big of fans we were. They, like the Ottawa Rough Riders, left and took a piece of our hearts, leaving another league I really don't feel like watching anymore. The memories will always stick though. Even the announcers were the greatest! Dave Van Horne and The Duke! Gary Carter had the 'check swing' homerun (my brother still laughs when i say that), The Hawk patrolling centre field and Tim Raines stealing bases with ease. It was magical.
Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and the LA Lakers....A book was given to me about a guy named Lew Alcindor. I knew him to be Kareem Abdul-Jabbar as I followed the Lakers and had heard about his UCLA days with John Wooden. What I didn't know was how interesting a man Kareem really was. A good portion of the book was devoted to the relationship he formed with Bruce Lee during his early years in the NBA. He was actually a student of Lee's, who taught him martial as well as meditation. Kareem used this new found learning to help him in his sport and as many of you know, Kareem went on to be the most prolific scorer in the NBA, amassing over 40 000 pts with his patented Sky-Hook that to this day has never been used or perfected by any other player. All of those Laker-Celtic battles that happened so frequently in the 80's were watched by my buddies and I and then we'd go out, no matter the weather, and battle it out on the court ourselves. If you weren't a Lakers fan, you didn't like Kareem and you absolutely despised his hook shot and laziness. I loved it!
It's not hard to tell from these last two sports posts what really motivates me. I have a passion for all of these teams and players and whether they were forced upon me or just draped on my upper torso, I have never given up on them and that includes the ones that have disappeared. If you see me on the couch watching Green Bay or the Canadiens in the play-offs, well you better be prepared to see me on the floor in agony or jumping with a fist in the air. Nothing in this world makes me as nervous as watching them. I believe the only time that this will change is when I decide to try coaching a team by myself. Those poor kids won't know what hit them!...The 'Drive' comes from the 'Passion'......
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Coming Soon!
Just to let everyone know that there will soon be a few contributors to my blog. They will be helping with a daily sports section and a Nova Scotia rant portion....Once started, I will be giving some background on them and letting the words flow....coming soon...
Where did I get my competitive drive?
I am a sports fanatic, well, fanatical about certain teams especially and still like to play any chance I get. Those who know me see a completely different Jesse when I get on the court or field, an intense individual who wants to win. Where did I get that drive? It's a question I ask myself many times. What moments in time shaped who I seem and want to be while competing? I can't say for sure what it was, but I do have memories of a certain few key moments that played a part for sure.
#1-Tony Gabriel....One of those earliest 'sport' memories was walking with my Dad when I was only 5 or 6 yrs old. We were walking down a street in Ottawa (where i was born), my Dad holding my hand, when a very large man walked by in this blue suit. He was a giant to me and it looked like Dad thought this man was something special as well as he nodded hello to him. After he had passed us, Dad crouched down and said, "You know who that was? That was Tony Gabriel! #77 for the Ottawa Rough Riders. The best receiver in the world!". I of course found it strange that he was in a suit because as a kid you just think that sports heroes are always in their uniforms, but on this day he was a business man. We would later go to many games at Lansdowne Park, watching Tony Gabriel and his magic hands leading Ottawa to victory. I became a huge fan of the Rough Riders (and not the Western Riders either) and I believe it was that passing by of Gabriel that did it. When they left Ottawa the first time, I gave up watching the CFL. Haven't watched it since. A real sports fan understands this. A Cleveland Brown fan feels my pain.
#2-Montreal Canadiens...Growing up most of my life in Nova Scotia meant you were either a Boston Fan or Canadien man (Leaf fans were in Cape Breton and NFLD). I picked the Bruins early on before I really knew what hockey was, taking a liking to their logo and their jersey colours. That quickly ended one Saturday night as I tuned in to Hockey Night in Canada and heard Danny Gallivan and Dick Irvin Jr (biased SOB) call the game. Gallivan and his 'cannonading shot!', with old Irvin talking about his Dad all night and this great Montreal Canadiens team who were flying all over the ice! How could I possibly like the Bruins?! Guy Lafleur, Larry Robinson and Bob Gainey sold me that night on what was a dynasty and still the last Canadian team to win a Stanley Cup. Yes, a sad truth, it was 1993 when our country last hoisted the most famous trophy in all of sports.
#3-Green Bay Packers...No televised sport has captivated me as much as the Green Bay Packers and the NFL has. In all other sports I will only watch my team play, but sit me down on any Sunday during the NFL season and I'd watch the Buccaneers take on my buddy Buff Benoit's 49'ers, i don't care! I love NFL football that much. Green Bay has always been my team though and everyone that knows me can attest to that. Brett Favre's pic is on my wall, waving good-bye from his last game as a Packer (he'll be the source of his own post here very shortly) and I bet I own 35 Packer hats and tons of other gear. I got to see them play at Lambeau in 2003, the year they rebuilt the stadium and on opening week-end had a huge party. It was amazing to just walk on the field. This year of course I get to enjoy immensely as Super Bowl XLV was won by them and a new great QB in the making has emerged. What made me a GB fan all these years? Once again it was a simple moment in time, a jersey i received when I was 8 or 9, a Bart Starr #15. After that I started to read up on the famed dynasty, Lombardi and the tradition and I was sold once again............Next up, "The Expos, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and a thing called Passion"
#1-Tony Gabriel....One of those earliest 'sport' memories was walking with my Dad when I was only 5 or 6 yrs old. We were walking down a street in Ottawa (where i was born), my Dad holding my hand, when a very large man walked by in this blue suit. He was a giant to me and it looked like Dad thought this man was something special as well as he nodded hello to him. After he had passed us, Dad crouched down and said, "You know who that was? That was Tony Gabriel! #77 for the Ottawa Rough Riders. The best receiver in the world!". I of course found it strange that he was in a suit because as a kid you just think that sports heroes are always in their uniforms, but on this day he was a business man. We would later go to many games at Lansdowne Park, watching Tony Gabriel and his magic hands leading Ottawa to victory. I became a huge fan of the Rough Riders (and not the Western Riders either) and I believe it was that passing by of Gabriel that did it. When they left Ottawa the first time, I gave up watching the CFL. Haven't watched it since. A real sports fan understands this. A Cleveland Brown fan feels my pain.
#2-Montreal Canadiens...Growing up most of my life in Nova Scotia meant you were either a Boston Fan or Canadien man (Leaf fans were in Cape Breton and NFLD). I picked the Bruins early on before I really knew what hockey was, taking a liking to their logo and their jersey colours. That quickly ended one Saturday night as I tuned in to Hockey Night in Canada and heard Danny Gallivan and Dick Irvin Jr (biased SOB) call the game. Gallivan and his 'cannonading shot!', with old Irvin talking about his Dad all night and this great Montreal Canadiens team who were flying all over the ice! How could I possibly like the Bruins?! Guy Lafleur, Larry Robinson and Bob Gainey sold me that night on what was a dynasty and still the last Canadian team to win a Stanley Cup. Yes, a sad truth, it was 1993 when our country last hoisted the most famous trophy in all of sports.
#3-Green Bay Packers...No televised sport has captivated me as much as the Green Bay Packers and the NFL has. In all other sports I will only watch my team play, but sit me down on any Sunday during the NFL season and I'd watch the Buccaneers take on my buddy Buff Benoit's 49'ers, i don't care! I love NFL football that much. Green Bay has always been my team though and everyone that knows me can attest to that. Brett Favre's pic is on my wall, waving good-bye from his last game as a Packer (he'll be the source of his own post here very shortly) and I bet I own 35 Packer hats and tons of other gear. I got to see them play at Lambeau in 2003, the year they rebuilt the stadium and on opening week-end had a huge party. It was amazing to just walk on the field. This year of course I get to enjoy immensely as Super Bowl XLV was won by them and a new great QB in the making has emerged. What made me a GB fan all these years? Once again it was a simple moment in time, a jersey i received when I was 8 or 9, a Bart Starr #15. After that I started to read up on the famed dynasty, Lombardi and the tradition and I was sold once again............Next up, "The Expos, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and a thing called Passion"
Friday, March 11, 2011
Goodwin Brothers- Part 2-The Beach, Breasts and Montauk
I know many of you (Keats) were excited by the title of this post. After making it through the night, all of us waking up a little groggy but interested in getting going, we realized that NY City in the morning looks a lot different at 6am then it does in all of the hustle and bustle of the night. We couldn't find where we had parked our car?! It was in one of those outside mini lots where they stack them on top of others and manage to fit 60 of them in a space big enough for 20, but for some reason every corner now looked the same to us. We of course found it but not before Tom asked a fine gentleman living on one of the corners where it might be. The sauced individual replied, "How do I know where your freakin' car is??", he was so surprised that he took pity on Tom and didn't even ask for any dough! And believe me, Tom wanted to give him money. He always got a big laugh out of giving a Canadian Loonie or Toonie to some unsuspecting US citizen, this case a bum, who would inevitably not be able to use it.
Now back in the car, we ventured out to Montauk to visit one of our customers. With not much mention of my navigator, people must be wondering what Dave actually did this trip, but he was there, the calm solid type who kept Tom and I on an even keel so to speak. He directed us out of the concrete jungle and on to one of the many highways leading out of the city. This one lead us to the richest area of Long Island. It was a couple of hours in and the cups of coffee I had sipped on now needed to flow another way. Of course we were in 'Richville' now, with quaint little shops and Beamers all around us, it was going to be difficult to just stop and jump out for a whiz. Tom was barking from the back, "Come on, go for it man. Whip it out right here!". I didn't. We finally found a small coffee shop and I couldn't hold it any longer. I jumped out and went into the shop, looking for the bathroom they didn't seem to have. Someone pointed me outside, another shouted, "Wanna coffee?". I was frantic! It's one of the worst feelings ever and can be related to many life situations I'm sure. You can't hold it any longer, you think you are now going to be able to go and are forced to hold it in once again. The mental and physical pain searing through your body, but you somehow manage to contain it and when you do finally find a spot to release, because your body has held it in sooo long, nothing comes out for about 5 seconds. This is after you've spent a minute just trying to get it out of your pants, dancing around the room with a leg bouncing and fumbling for your zipper, and if you happened to be wearing your stylish 501 buttonfly's, well forget it, you pissed your pants. Those are 5 long seconds of nothing.....then, "ahhhhhhhhhh"...
We finally reached our destination. First stop, the bar! This was back in the day when Tom was a beer man. He has since quit and been sober now for almost 6 months! Although i give him kudos for stopping drinking because cutting off any addiction, whether it be beer or video games, is not an easy task, there are definitely days i miss the 'old Tom'. He asks too many questions now and his day revolves around renovations and poking around his beauty salon, yes i said beauty salon. After meeting up with the customer and having a few beers, we were lead to our beachfront cottage. A beautiful spot, literally right on the beach. We set up camp and ventured down to take a peek. It is a huge beach in Montauk, stretches for miles and the water was warm that day. We could not understand why no one was swimming though. We ran back up to the cottage and grabbed our trunks and towels and headed back for the water. Once in, we realized quickly why nobody was actually in it swimming. It had nothing to do with temperature and everything to do with undertow and waves. Five minutes in and Tom got spun upside down and slammed to the sandy bottom, flipped back up and sucked under again before he got his bearings and made it to shore. We were laughing but he had an actual wound on his shoulder, bleeding and looking like he was bit by a small shark. He wasn't, it was just from the sand but it clearly showed the power of the waves. Three months later, Tom would still be picking grains of sand out of his left ear, cursing the beach and usually mumbling a few choice swear words at the same time.
That night we hit one of the local bars and started to put back the beer. Now this is somewhat of a high class area and as the night progressed and we became the idiots that usually come from intoxication, Tom once again became the center of attention. Dave and I could see that Tom was getting the 'stare' on. The one that only focuses on one thing and one thing only, breasts. Yes, Tom is definitely a breast man. Every woman in the place no longer had a head now, they were only measured by what was occuring on their chest. It was hard to even trick him, mesmerized, he just floated around the bar making the 'stare' his opening line. Eventually he looked at one too many and a girl we had met earlier in the evening (Dory), who just happened to be sporting exactly what Tom was looking for, told Dave and I that we might want to get Tom out of there before it became a problem. We did and sliding back to our cottage that night would prove to be the best move of that day........next week, 'D'Escousse, hair gel and the Underwear Incident'
Now back in the car, we ventured out to Montauk to visit one of our customers. With not much mention of my navigator, people must be wondering what Dave actually did this trip, but he was there, the calm solid type who kept Tom and I on an even keel so to speak. He directed us out of the concrete jungle and on to one of the many highways leading out of the city. This one lead us to the richest area of Long Island. It was a couple of hours in and the cups of coffee I had sipped on now needed to flow another way. Of course we were in 'Richville' now, with quaint little shops and Beamers all around us, it was going to be difficult to just stop and jump out for a whiz. Tom was barking from the back, "Come on, go for it man. Whip it out right here!". I didn't. We finally found a small coffee shop and I couldn't hold it any longer. I jumped out and went into the shop, looking for the bathroom they didn't seem to have. Someone pointed me outside, another shouted, "Wanna coffee?". I was frantic! It's one of the worst feelings ever and can be related to many life situations I'm sure. You can't hold it any longer, you think you are now going to be able to go and are forced to hold it in once again. The mental and physical pain searing through your body, but you somehow manage to contain it and when you do finally find a spot to release, because your body has held it in sooo long, nothing comes out for about 5 seconds. This is after you've spent a minute just trying to get it out of your pants, dancing around the room with a leg bouncing and fumbling for your zipper, and if you happened to be wearing your stylish 501 buttonfly's, well forget it, you pissed your pants. Those are 5 long seconds of nothing.....then, "ahhhhhhhhhh"...
We finally reached our destination. First stop, the bar! This was back in the day when Tom was a beer man. He has since quit and been sober now for almost 6 months! Although i give him kudos for stopping drinking because cutting off any addiction, whether it be beer or video games, is not an easy task, there are definitely days i miss the 'old Tom'. He asks too many questions now and his day revolves around renovations and poking around his beauty salon, yes i said beauty salon. After meeting up with the customer and having a few beers, we were lead to our beachfront cottage. A beautiful spot, literally right on the beach. We set up camp and ventured down to take a peek. It is a huge beach in Montauk, stretches for miles and the water was warm that day. We could not understand why no one was swimming though. We ran back up to the cottage and grabbed our trunks and towels and headed back for the water. Once in, we realized quickly why nobody was actually in it swimming. It had nothing to do with temperature and everything to do with undertow and waves. Five minutes in and Tom got spun upside down and slammed to the sandy bottom, flipped back up and sucked under again before he got his bearings and made it to shore. We were laughing but he had an actual wound on his shoulder, bleeding and looking like he was bit by a small shark. He wasn't, it was just from the sand but it clearly showed the power of the waves. Three months later, Tom would still be picking grains of sand out of his left ear, cursing the beach and usually mumbling a few choice swear words at the same time.
That night we hit one of the local bars and started to put back the beer. Now this is somewhat of a high class area and as the night progressed and we became the idiots that usually come from intoxication, Tom once again became the center of attention. Dave and I could see that Tom was getting the 'stare' on. The one that only focuses on one thing and one thing only, breasts. Yes, Tom is definitely a breast man. Every woman in the place no longer had a head now, they were only measured by what was occuring on their chest. It was hard to even trick him, mesmerized, he just floated around the bar making the 'stare' his opening line. Eventually he looked at one too many and a girl we had met earlier in the evening (Dory), who just happened to be sporting exactly what Tom was looking for, told Dave and I that we might want to get Tom out of there before it became a problem. We did and sliding back to our cottage that night would prove to be the best move of that day........next week, 'D'Escousse, hair gel and the Underwear Incident'
Friday, March 4, 2011
Goodwin Brothers- Part 1
The picture you see above was taken in New York in July of 2003. It was really my first impression of the 'Big Apple', which quickly changed, as my cohorts Dave, Tom and I would soon find out as we embarked on a four day trip of the city and Long Island.
That night we stayed near Times Square, trying to soak up as much of the city in a night as we possibly could. I told the boys that a sure sign of a tourist was when you had your head staring up all the time, so to keep them down a bit to blend in. Of course Tom questioned my suggestion with a ,"..what the f&*% does that mean?? Why do i have to keep my head down? You're GOIN' DOWN!!.." and then he grabbed me around the neck and squeezed with one of his patented 'hand to tendon' grips. I quickly told him that it was sign of a tourist because they were awestruck by the tall buildings and kept looking up. I think he understood, but it was a sign of things to come.
Jumping back a bit, when we first arrived it was actually in Newark and we had to rent a car to travel around in. Tom jumped in the back seat and Dave decided he would do a fine job of navigating, right along with the girl from 'NeverLost'. The first left we had to take, she was yapping something and Dave yelled, "hang a left here!!" and i proceeded to cut across two lanes of traffic through a red light! Of course the car that i directly cut off was a New Jersey Po Po. I went up the ramp, parked and waited for him (the usual for a proper Canadian). He whipped around and caught us quickly, sauntered out of his car just far enough so that i had to wrench my neck around, and asked for my license. Me of course, smiling and thinking that i could use a joke to break the ice, was cut off before i could speak as he blurted out, "I DON"T FEEL LIKE DYIN' ON A SATURDAY MORNING!", and threw my license on the floor of the car by my feet, "Have fun in NY boys.", and left us stunned and later laughing. I didn't feel like dying on a Saturday morning either or any morning for that matter.
Some might wonder about the title of this post, 'Goodwin Brothers' was a name given to Tom and I from one our customers. Tom's last name is Goodwin (of the Cape Island variety) and this guy just decided to lump us together as we sometimes would share sales responsibilities. He was somewhat of a hotheaded customer that would go off if his order wasn't just right and then come a calling for the 'Goodwin Brothers'. So, I became an honorary brother of Tom's whether I liked it or not and it has stuck to this day.
Back in our hotel room that night (which all three of us shared to save $) after spending the evening with some lesbians at a bar who Tom thought he could pick up while sucking back quite a few wobbly pops, we laughed about that and the fact that at one of the cross walks in the Square we bumped into a guy that I knew that had happened to work for a summer at the plant in Bedford. He was now a model if you could believe it and had a posse of women in tow. A guy who slung lobster crates around a dirty cold plant was now a New York fashion model and in a city of millions, and we bump into him!! Both, I guess, equally surprising. We passed out and were later awoken by a banging on our hotel room door. Of course being small town guys, Tom gets up and stammers, "i'll get the door..", just as I kind of come to and realize what he's about to do, i yell, "DON'T OPEN THE DOOR!!". We peer through the peep hole and see this huge man looking like he wants to tear us a new one. Tom's like, "What, i can take him...come on he aint nuffin", as i steered him back into his cot he takes a small swipe at me showing me what he'll do and I lay back down wondering what might have been......to be continued...
...Part 2; The Beach, Breasts and Montauk
That night we stayed near Times Square, trying to soak up as much of the city in a night as we possibly could. I told the boys that a sure sign of a tourist was when you had your head staring up all the time, so to keep them down a bit to blend in. Of course Tom questioned my suggestion with a ,"..what the f&*% does that mean?? Why do i have to keep my head down? You're GOIN' DOWN!!.." and then he grabbed me around the neck and squeezed with one of his patented 'hand to tendon' grips. I quickly told him that it was sign of a tourist because they were awestruck by the tall buildings and kept looking up. I think he understood, but it was a sign of things to come.
Jumping back a bit, when we first arrived it was actually in Newark and we had to rent a car to travel around in. Tom jumped in the back seat and Dave decided he would do a fine job of navigating, right along with the girl from 'NeverLost'. The first left we had to take, she was yapping something and Dave yelled, "hang a left here!!" and i proceeded to cut across two lanes of traffic through a red light! Of course the car that i directly cut off was a New Jersey Po Po. I went up the ramp, parked and waited for him (the usual for a proper Canadian). He whipped around and caught us quickly, sauntered out of his car just far enough so that i had to wrench my neck around, and asked for my license. Me of course, smiling and thinking that i could use a joke to break the ice, was cut off before i could speak as he blurted out, "I DON"T FEEL LIKE DYIN' ON A SATURDAY MORNING!", and threw my license on the floor of the car by my feet, "Have fun in NY boys.", and left us stunned and later laughing. I didn't feel like dying on a Saturday morning either or any morning for that matter.
Some might wonder about the title of this post, 'Goodwin Brothers' was a name given to Tom and I from one our customers. Tom's last name is Goodwin (of the Cape Island variety) and this guy just decided to lump us together as we sometimes would share sales responsibilities. He was somewhat of a hotheaded customer that would go off if his order wasn't just right and then come a calling for the 'Goodwin Brothers'. So, I became an honorary brother of Tom's whether I liked it or not and it has stuck to this day.
Back in our hotel room that night (which all three of us shared to save $) after spending the evening with some lesbians at a bar who Tom thought he could pick up while sucking back quite a few wobbly pops, we laughed about that and the fact that at one of the cross walks in the Square we bumped into a guy that I knew that had happened to work for a summer at the plant in Bedford. He was now a model if you could believe it and had a posse of women in tow. A guy who slung lobster crates around a dirty cold plant was now a New York fashion model and in a city of millions, and we bump into him!! Both, I guess, equally surprising. We passed out and were later awoken by a banging on our hotel room door. Of course being small town guys, Tom gets up and stammers, "i'll get the door..", just as I kind of come to and realize what he's about to do, i yell, "DON'T OPEN THE DOOR!!". We peer through the peep hole and see this huge man looking like he wants to tear us a new one. Tom's like, "What, i can take him...come on he aint nuffin", as i steered him back into his cot he takes a small swipe at me showing me what he'll do and I lay back down wondering what might have been......to be continued...
...Part 2; The Beach, Breasts and Montauk
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