MoonPies and Starships

There is something to be said for youthful indiscretion. Rational thought usually takes a backseat to terrific stupidity that is completely ignorant of any consequences. I was one of those youths. If there was a food fight in the cafeteria I was the clown to throw an apple. I feel fortunate my indiscretions never resulted in incarceration, maiming or death but that doesn’t mean I escaped all disciplinary actions. Here is one of my finer moments.

It was October of 1992 and I was a freshman at a Catholic high school, bred for mischief. A few neighborhood friends had invited me to the annual Fright Night at Six Flags amusement park and for a 13 year old kid it was one of the highlights of the year. To be unchaperoned at a theme park until midnight was probably the greatest opportunity a kid could have. It was an afternoon and night with creepy characters, roller coasters, funnel cakes, and no parental oversight with contingency plans and meeting points. Nope, we were young men in charge of our own destiny.

We all met, the four of us, at my friend Sandy S’s house since it was his parents who volunteered to take us. Now Mr. and Mrs. S were the envy of the neighborhood when it came to Halloween. They gave out full size candy bars, turned the garage into a spook house and after the trick or treating was over they hosted a Halloween party for all the kids. I don’t know what I looked forward to more, the trick or treating or hanging out at the S’s house? Needless to say, I was of a fan of the S’s.

When we were about ready to leave my friend Ben pointed out that there was a case full of orange MoonPies at the front door. If you are unfamiliar with MoonPies than you must be from North Korea. Ha! No, they are marshmallow filled cookie thing covered in a wax chocolate. You either love or hate them. I was not a fan and a little disappointed that this was the candy of choice for the S’s this year. It had to be stopped.

I explained that giving out individually wrapped MoonPies could only lead to a night of tricks by ungrateful little twerps. It’s bad karma to follow the previous years of giving out full size Twix and Snickers with a treat that was popular in the 1930’s. So we, as caring and thoughtful kids, volunteered to alleviate them of the Moonpie burden and stuff your windbreakers with the individually wrapped Moonpies and Mrs. S could stock the house once again with proper Halloween candy. We did her a favor.

So why would kids who didn’t like MoonPies to begin with want to take thirty of them to Six Flags? To throw them off the top of roller coasters of course! We weren’t going to eat them, silly. No, we came to an unspoken agreement that made sense only to 13 year old boys. There is no rationality behind it, we just knew that it was the right thing to do.

So after we stuffed our jackets to the brim with the said treats, we piled in the car and took off to Six Flags Over Georgia, blasting Smashing Pumpkin’s “Cherub Rock” all the way. Mr. S always was a teenager at heart and he kept current to what the kids were listening to. I remember the car ride there so clearly and how unusually warm it was for a late October day. So the first order of business, we decided, was to dump the cargo and ditch the jackets.

Right when we got to the park and through the entrance the decision on what to go on first was primary. This was the chance to get the mischief out of the system and relieve ourselves of the Moonpies in a glorious display of stupidity that will be the envy of Monday’s lunchtime stories. Should we go on the “Mindbender” with multiple loops and corkscrews? Nah, too short. Should we go on the famous “All American Scream Machine”? No, it’s mostly over water and no targets to hit. How about the “Cyclone”? Maybe, but it doesn’t quite fit what we are looking for…

Ah shit, that’s it! “The Looping Starship”! The one ride in the park that suspends you fifty feet in the air, completely upside down. It was as if it was designed to drop things from it. How many pairs of sunglasses and flip-flops perished on that ride? One could only imagine. Within ten minutes of arrival we were standing in line to meet our destiny as the new world record holders for dumping Moonpies off the Looping Starship. If only mom could see me now.

After an agonizing wait it was our turn to strap into the coaster. The shuttle was wide enough for all four of us to sit together on the same row. The lap-belts were tightened and the hydraulic bars came over our shoulders, securing us from plummeting to the depths below. All we had to do now was some how pull all the Moonpies from our jacket pockets and wait for Ben, the mastermind behind the plan, to say when to release.And then the ride began…

I suppose I should explain the mechanics of this coaster. There are about eight rubber tired wheels on the base underneath the flat belly of the shuttle which keeps the momentum and also slows it down. The shuttle itself rocks back and forth, like a pendulum, until it become totally inverted and completes a series of loops. Here’s a video of the exact ride.

So there we were, MoonPies in our arms, awaiting the command to drop. I have to give Ben props, his patience paid off because there was a point when the shuttle was completely suspended upside down and that is when he yelled, ‘BOMBS AWAY!”. And so we did. All thirty, individually bagged orange MoonPies fell from the Looping Starship. It must have been some sight from the ground to see such a shower of an iconic American treat.

We did it. Laughing and yelling as all the blood in our body rested in our heads, there was sense of forbidden pleasure that swirled around us. And then I noticed something. You see, foresight is not something a thirteen year old boy possesses yet. That comes many, many years later. Only after the deed does reality become apparent. Below us, resting on the tires were the thirty MoonPies, still wrapped in their air filled bags. And the shuttle was making it’s way down again towards them. And this is what we heard when we ran over them.

POP PIP PIP POP BOB PIP POP POP BIP PIP BOB POOF PIP POW BOP!

It sounded as if there was rapid fire machine gun, laying waste to the crowd below. And really, it wasn’t too far from the truth. As we began to ascend I looked up to see that the MoonPies had disappeared from the rotating tires. There was only a glimpse of an orange and white splotch on the spinning tires. But there was also a splat line of orange that lead right to the line waiting to ride the “Looping Starship”. And there were people laid out, covered in orange and white MoonPie goo. Our triumph soon became terror as the ride slowed abruptly and came to a halt.

Everyone else’s hydraulic shoulder harnesses released but ours did not. We were trapped and I was still holding a MoonPie that didn’t make it out of my pocket. So screwed! The conductor (?) approached and yelled, “I’ve called security and you’re not going anywhere. Look at what you’ve done!”

I did and I still have an image of a poor black woman pulling a glop of marshmallow from her hair and another who was peppered all over her back. Her head was cocked back and shoulders were raised as if she had an ice cube dumped down her collar. Those images are still with me today. But every year they get funnier.

Soon the security guards arrive in golf carts and we were pulled from the ride by the elbow, much like a 6 year old who is bad at a Toys R’ Us. We were whisked away while the caked crowd jeered us. They wanted blood and I was relieved when we were taken behind the secret alley behind the skee-ball machines. That is when the interrogation began.

As the guards conversed with each other, Ben turned to us and said, “whatever happens, do not give them your real name.” That sounded like sound advise and when the guard approached with pad of paper in hand and asked Ben for his name, he verbally shit himself.

“My name? It’s uhhhh….Beeeeyoorrnn?”

“Your name is Bjorn?”

“Yes?”

For the life of me I can’t recall how the whole security guard encounter went. All I know is that we had our Polaroid picture taken and kicked out of the park soon after. We lasted only an hour at Frightfest ’92. I suppose it wasn’t all that bad. Mr. S wasn’t due to pick us up for another 6 hours and we played “capture the flag” in a parking lot of 5,000 cars. We agreed not to tell anyone of the incident but right when we were picked up and asked how it was, Sandy cracked and confessed the whole affair. He was such a cock suck. Regardless it was time to remember.

Boys will be boys.

October 9, 2008 27

And Now We Are Pals

So after the pooping on the shoe incident, I let bygones be bygones. I buried the hatchet. I let that ship sail. Two cats in a tree is better that one in a pot. What? Yeah. Anyway I made it a point to win over the dog that so outwardly despised me. And it only took a bag of Beggin Strips, 10 cookies and a few cheese slices. Here is a photo breakdown of how I became one with the animal kingdom.

Notice the treat at the bottom of the picture? It took almost 30 minutes of pacing for Kootenee to decide that it was worth the risk to eat it. All my high pitched baby talk never did anything but cause him to cock his head right and left. The key to a dogs heart is through the stomach.

So this is how it went for an hour or so. I would drop a treat closer and he would inch cautiously, nab the cookie and bolt to the corner of the porch. He chewed while he eyeballed me, making sure I didn’t make any advancements. I did feel pretty good that he was comfortable enough to nap for a while. I stayed seated, drink a beer and texting, patiently waiting for the next opportunity of a friendly exchange. And when my attention was distracted I looked to my left to see this:

This took me by surprise to say the least. I sat there in shock that he was able to creep so close without me noticing. The worst part was the fact I had run out of treats. I sure would hate to disappoint after he gambled to come so close. So I took the opportunity and reached my hand out to pet him. AND HE ATE MY ARM!

Just kidding. No, he actually allowed me to rub behind his ears and he even put his head down on my leg as I pet him. Talk about a 180!I didn’t risk giving him a hug but I’ll take a good pet on the head. He’s a good boy.

Now there is a happy dog! Do you see the smile? Yep, we are pals and it’s a good thing too. It get’s lonely on the mountain and it nice not have a source of contention when it’s not needed. I stayed out as long as possible but here it gets cold at night and I had a baseball game calling me inside. I felt a little sad when I left him outside. I mean look at him.

Poor guy. Oh well, pretty soon his owner came home and it was his real dinner time. At times I can hear the goings on upstairs and I did feel a little guilty when Kootenee’s owner yelled, “Oh Kootenee, no!” I just hope all those treats didn’t lead to explosive diarrhea on the couch.

October 8, 2008 14

Man Crush

I’m going to throw this out here, not because I feel that I have to but just to make sure there is no confusion. I am a straight male. I am not going to beat this to a pulp and risk painting VeggieMacabe into a “hey I’m not gay” blog because there is nothing in the world wrong with being gay. I just wanted this post to be in the appropriate perspective. Hey, I’m a 90’s guy! Anyway, tonight I am going to name a few of my man crushes. I think this is a funny term that was called to my attention thanks to Pam when she accused me of having a man crush based on my respect for a certain celebrity. So what? So I have a man crush? I am secure in my manly male maleness.

Alton Brown. This guy is to culinary science what Newton is to gravity. I could watch Good Eats for days on end and be better for it. How can this guy possibly know so much about food? He knows the chemical beak-down of a snow pea and some how makes it relevant! Unbelievable! There has never been a time when I turned off Alton from the tube and said, “well that was a waste of time”. Each show has a quirky way about it filled with humor and valuable information like in South America people eat toasted ants instead of popcorn and beets can look edible when talked up proper. Mr. Brown, I am in awe of you sir.

It’s Hal from Malcolm In The Middle! Actually it’s Bryan Cranston and this guy is the funniest dude in the world. In. The. World. World as in Earth. I have seen every episode of Malcolm In The Middle and the only ones I truly love center around Hal. No dude can rock tighty whities like Bry-Guy and no one can wear a body suit with the intention for speed walking. His duality between physical comedy and his dark portrayal of a professor turned meth maker in his latest AMC series leaves no question in his acting ability. One of the greats!

Bear Grylls. I know there was a question about the validity of his show, Man vs Wild, but his resume far out weighs whether he spends an entire night in a snow cave or not. So lets see, he was in the British SAS, the youngest guy to scale Mt. Everest and did so only a year after breaking his back from a bad airborne jump, volunteered to attend a French Foreign Legion bootcamp in AFRICA, and…well…you’ve seen the show. My point is, this guy is a badass in every sense of the word. I have much respect for him, especially for the British Special Air Service (SAS) since I used to work with them in Kosovo. In order to be in that elite team you have to be special. Bear is the man and I’ll go heels with anyone who says otherwise.

I consider Joel McHale somewhat of a hero. Who else keeps the retards of current pop culture in check? No longer can MTV and Tyra Banks get away with the crap they put out. Even the untouchable queen of daytime TV, Oprah gets hers. Oprahs Vagay-jay! And here I thought South Park were the only ones with all the balls. Joel’s snarkiness is a great conduit to rip on all the ridiculous crap we as views have to endure. Thank you Joel.

Still have mad respect for young Jame Hetfield. This picture embodies the changing face of metal and the brain behind “Kill ’em All”, “Puppets” and “Ride The Lightning”. He was an absolute genius and a model for all front-men from then on. I truly believe young James Hetfield was one of the greatest artists ever to bless rock.

Old Hetfield, no thanks. I am so tired of the whiny disposition that Metallica portrays. Between him and Urlich talking at length about how hard it is to do what you love all the time. How it sucks to be on the road and being a dad is the center of all life. Yeah, we get. So retire already before you put out a Kidz Bop album. God I wish I didn’t see Some Kind Of Monster! There is a reason why Bruce Dickinson and Lemey don’t do shit that that. Ugh!

Thomas Jane did a bang up job as The Punisher, didn’t he? He did many of his own stunts and trained with Navy SEALs just to get in the appropriate shape that reflects what Frank Castle would look like out of the comic book. That dedication is admirable. I have been killing myself in the gym for the past few years and the Thomas Jane look is what I’m going for but….apparently he doesn’t eat Dijorno pizza and beer. What are you going to do?

So that is my list of “man crushes”. See? You can be straight as an arrow and feel perfectly confident it is ok to say you have a man crush. It’s more like the “guy’s guy” or the “man’s man”. I’m going to stop here before I embarrass myself any further. If you need me I’ll be doing curls while watching Nascar and burping.

October 7, 2008 22

Ninja In North Idaho?

Why didn’t anybody tell me the master of martial arts lives not only in the same state, but in the same area as me?!?!? Here I drove 2,400 miles thinking that all North Idaho had to offer was bears, moose and possibly Bigfoot. Oh how wrong was I! In this great state of Idaho, a young man holds the power and knowledge of some pretty frickn’ sweet moves. If you generally skip the YouTube videos on here I urge you to reconsider. It will change your opinion on the ability of the human body……and mind.

I know you are laughing right now but hear me out. Dude is punching while weighted down with at least 5lbs. Can you imagine when those beasts are released? And did you check out the facial intensity? It is like his eyes can wield the power of Earth Wind and Fire. We are in the presence of greatness my friends.

I could live without the commentary but if I was filming this I would be in awe too. Perhaps it’s the height of the kicks or the almost round, round house kicks. I might be ignorant to the fighting style but I have to find a comparison. Or at least a look-a-like.

Maybe. The intensity is definitely there but the execution is different. I wouldn’t compare the two like apples and oranges. More like apples and salad tongs.

Well, the equation is coming together but it’s still a bit off. Perhaps if we combine the two together and include massive head trauma we would get…

Perfect! It’s shockingly perfect. The Great White Ninja of North Idaho and his dojo/backyard is only a few miles from my residence. I must seek out the master and learn his ways.

This guy has a great imagination. You can almost see his creative world and the imaginary predicament he is in. I bet in his mind he is surrounded by 5, no, 15 guys and he is warning of the intensive training he holds thanks to the three “Kung Fu and You” instructional videos.

“You guys don’t want to tangle with me unless you want a little bit OF THIS!!! AND SOME OF THAT!!!!”

Thank you Idaho Ninja. And thank you dickhead neighbors.

October 6, 2008 12

Ghosts: Maybe?

Ok, let me throw out a disclaimer before you read this. I am normal and I put science and reasoning before all oddities and paranormal conclusions. BUT, it is fun to think the things that go bump in the night might actually be spooky. So, read this with a level of skepticism, as I only believe what I see. I just find it fascinating.

Have you ever watched the show Ghost Hunters on the SciFi channel? I love this show and it’s not because of the scare factor. Really, it’s neat to watch blue collar folks take a hobby to an epic scale and then get thrust into celebrity status by doing what they love. Jason and Grant, the founders of TAPS (The Atlantic paranormal Society) and plumbers for Roto-Rooter, travel around the country with a few other members “debunking” claims of paranormal happenings. Sometimes they are able to do so but at times they can not. There is nothing cooler than watching their evidence of paranormal anomalies. Check this out from the St. Augustine Lighthouse. INSANE!

Yikes! I have been to that lighthouse and I can attest to the fact there is no way to fake this video. Unless of course everyone is in on the hoax. But that isn’t likely. I like to live in a world of blind naivate’ so let me believe in that.

The next video is also from a Sci-Fi show called Ghost Adventures. Now this chilled me to the bone. I like to think that I am an even keeled person and all that is on TV should be looked at through an eye of skepticism but what these guys film had me believing. I don’t know what’s going on in these south western ghost towns but jumpin’ Jesus it was frightening. Mainly because you can hear the sheer terror in their voices that you know is legit. I have been in real life situations where I have heard grown men scream in a way that I have never heard in any movie by any actor. I heard them scream that way in the documentary and that alone frightened me very badly.

You can’t believe everything people tell you and I understand that. I don’t understand why people would make up stories though. Personally I would be embarrassed if I was dealing with a problem of no specific origin. I mean, who would you turn to and what would people think? It’s not like you can walk into a church and fill canteens full of holy water. Plus, the people who dabble in the occult and paranormal, for the most part, can be eccentric at best.

The next couple of videos is from a British documentary and I must say it is creep as hell. You be the judge but I can’t say that it is hooky. The dude being choked in the beginning looked kind of funny but the ninth minute of the first video was just cool. I’m sorry, but that looked as ghostly as anything I have ever seen. And the pictures at the beginning of the second one just gives me the heebs. I’m glad I am writing this at night, alone on a mountain in a rainstorm. I think I just saw Scuzzlebutt.

Sorry about that last part. I hope you didn’t spill something on yourself. Fuckin’ eh, I did.

So if you are asking yourself, “why is this dude writing about such a ridiculous thing”, I will answer, “because I want to assmaster!” Just kidding. But seriously, I have had an experience and it has had me thinking for sometime. But most of all, it has been comforting. Do you think that is crazy? So here is my story.

I have been to Savannah, GA no less that one thousand times. Shit, I used to live there when I was in the Army. But it has only been the past few years that I have taken interest in the history of the old city. And it is a dark and macabre past. Did you know that most of the city is one giant grave yard? They just buried people where ever back in the day. Only the rich were given Christian burial privileges. So Savannah is known to be the most haunted city in America and it was there that I became a believer.

It happened here at The Pirate House. I knew about this place and the fact real pirates used to drink here as well as the ghost sightings but as many times as I had been there before, no luck. Only a fat bill and over priced beer. I dragged my poor ex-girlfriend there every time we visited and she had to put up with my dumb questions about peoples’ experiences.

But last year I went on business and I was able to pop over there at 10pm for a quick few Ghost Ales (excellent). They close at 11pm so I was the lone person at the long bar. I kept my dumb questions to myself because the bartender was busy closing down and didn’t seem like the chatty type. I couldn’t blame her. So, I half payed attention to the game on the flat screen at the opposite end of the bar and flipped through my Blackberry.

Then I heard someone running down the steps, very fast and loud, just out of view where the TV was. The figure stopped smack infront of the screen. I didn’t look right at him but kept flipping through old messages on my phone, quite aware that this rude figure made a better door than a window. Finally I put my phone down, picked up my beer and looked to see who was blocking the view and there was no one there.

I felt like I was floating. Finally, I have touched the ethereal plain. I can’t remember if I was holding my beer or I put it down but just as I was about to close my open jaw the bartender kick the double doors open from the kitchen, holding a glass rack. I about jumped out of my skin. She saw my face and just ginned.

“You saw something, huh?” Her candor towards the matter was about as shocking as the experience itself. I told her what happened and she smiled and nodded the whole time. When I told her about the loud noise of running down the stairs she stopped me and asked me to follow her to the end of the bar. I did so and when I turned the corner every hair stood on end.

There were no stairs at all. It was just a wall and an old wine barrel with a model ship on top. She explained that before the kitchen expanded there used to be a staircase to the upstairs but that had been removed years ago. I think she felt that I needed another drink so she and I went to another bar and proceeded to get drunk. I needed that.

The more I thought about my experience the more comforting it felt. Maybe there is something beyond death? I am hard pressed to believe that when we die there are pearly gates and a list but maybe we do go on? The thought that is disturbing is whatever came down the stairs, stopped for a good five minutes and I don’t think it was looking at the TV. It was looking at me. Goooood God that is creepy!