Double-Take Meme of the Day

I guess I've made my appointment with the doc. Thanks to Bruce. 
 

Making My Mom's Day/Seeing Myself in the Family

I just ran across an old photograph that was so gnarly I almost tossed it until I had a closer look. I scanned it and I was able to bump-up the exposure a bit but I couldn't correct skin tone or anything else. The original photo is much darker, and when I first looked at it I thought it was me, although I didn't recognize the baby. 

 I've held a few babies in my day and photos were taken, so I thought it might be one I'd forgotten about. There's a photo of me holding my niece when she was a baby, and the expression on my face is very similar to this person, who as it turns out is actually my grandmother on my mom's side. This is obviously a print from the original, because this photo would've been taken about 65 years ago. 

 I showed it to my mom, still thinking it was me, to see if she knew who the baby might be, and she recognized it as her mother Auberrie. The baby happens to be my cousin Nancy. I told mom I thought it was me. "You did?" she asked. I told her I could see my face in Auberrie's, or vice-versa, and it made her day. 

 I was really young when she died way too early from Diabetes, but I still have an image of her sitting at the table, and I remember she always had a sweet smile on her face, as you can see here if you look closely. Mom was thrilled to hear me say that, and it flipped me out a little too. There are so few photos of her, and it was the first time I'd ever noticed a resemblance between my granny and me and I reckon it made my day too.

 At first I thought it was me...hair and all. I guess it's how the genes work. It was a nice thing to share with mom and I'm pleased it made her happy. For me it was an honor and a flip-out...the good kind. Have a nice day, and remember your ancestors. 
 

Lightning Strikes...Maybe Once Maybe Twice (rewritten)

I've told the story before about going through the same storm twice in one night. Sometimes I recycle my old stories, not only to keep them fresh but because these days I'm sitting on my sorry ass all day and I don't have any new adventures to speak of. 

 The only person who reads this blog anyway is me, when I proofread it, which is totally fine except that I'm talking to myself, so who cares? Plus it's a very cool memory for a storm buff, not to mention it was the second time in my life that I was fairly certain I might very well die, and that's an interesting feeling.

 So the Bud Greene band was playing somewhere in Mississippi. It was a Saturday, and after being on the road for most of the week, unless every one of us got hammered or there were locals involved or a crazy party or extenuating circumstances or whatever, on Saturday night after the gig we were ready to get home, so we usually drove back from Saturday gigs no matter how far away it was.

 We knew that there was going to be a pretty good storm rolling in after midnight, probably around when we'd be hitting the road. Some of the guys had been drinking all week and didn't much give a shit, but I knew it could get rough and a couple of us kept an eye on things as best we could. We turned on TWC in the motel room in the morning, and it was already big news. The only question was whether it was just going to be a strong storm or a really intense one. This was just before the Web and cellphones, but I figured I'd find a TV somewhere or find a station on the radio. 

 It ended up being a storm that old-timers around here still remember because it forever changed the landscape in a hilly part of town, scouring away dozens of old trees and leaving a bare view of a crest. It was later dubbed "the perfect storm" after the movie of the same name, because three different systems came together to form one giant storm. Wilder still for me was that I got to experience it twice.

 The last time I was able to get any reliable information was when we had dinner. We'd checked out of the room and couldn't find a TV anywhere after the one in the restaurant. Wherever we were we were in the Boonies, and I couldn't get a single station on the radio. I figured I'd find a TV in a dorm room or somewhere, or if all else failed I'd just ask a frat boy. Wrong.

 As often happened at frat parties, all the brothers got shitfaced, and they were completely useless for getting any information out of. It was starting to get pretty windy as we were packing up, but none of the brothers gave a fuck. I asked several completely drunk bros if there was a TV I could watch for a minute to check on the storm, and they just laughed it off. They'd be okay in the basement if a tornado hit but we had to drive in it. 

 Looking back, we'd have stayed the night if we'd known how intense it was going to be, but then there wouldn't be a story. I remember one guy leaning out of a second-story window. I yelled up to him to see if he'd heard anything about the storm, but all he did was throw up. I'll never forget that, and it's hilarious now. 

 Things were looking pretty gnarly but apparently we decided to head back anyway. The trailer and equipment weighed right at 3,000lbs, and there was about another ton with the van and five clowns sitting in it. We figured we could stand up to the wind, but we hadn't figured on being right on the edge of a twister, but that's how it goes sometimes. There was still only static on the radio, but pretty soon we didn't need a radio to tell us what was going on, and it was pretty bad.

 The bottom just dropped out. The raindrops were the biggest I've ever seen. They stung my face when I stuck my head out of the window to get a better look at the shoulder, and it sounded like gravel hitting the roof. Then the lightning started, and it was the most powerful I've ever seen too. We were on a highway that was typical of most of Mississippi- two-lane surrounded by pine trees on both sides. 

Lightning was striking trees all around us, and it was so powerful that it was causing the sap inside to rapidly heat up and explode in a shower of sparks and flame. The dead trees would explode and burst into flames. Even with the deluge of rain they'd burn for several seconds. It was like one of those 70s movies like Apocalypse Now or the Twilight Zone Movie, which was before CGI and they used real explosives for the special effects. It was happening all around us. It was scary but fascinating, and I remember seeing trees get hit 15' from the window and turning my head to watch them burn. 

 The wind started blowing us around like it was nothing. The raindrops were blowing just a couple degrees from straight across and they looked as big as grapes. We heard a rumbling sound off in the distance and knew that a tornado was close, but we didn't know if we were heading toward it or away from it. I was considering our options, which were few.

 On either side of the road was a 4'-wide ditch with about 2' of water flowing by ten times faster that we were going, instead of a shoulder, and that'd knock down the biggest person in half a second. Running into the woods and standing next to pine trees that were getting struck by lightning didn't sound like a good option either, and most of us couldn't have jumped the ditch anyway. If you get caught outside in a tornado, a ditch would be the best place to get, only not when it's flooded. 

 Visibility was about 3' if that, and we had to creep along at 5mph or less. There was no shoulder to pull over on, and even though we couldn't see past the front of the hood we had to keep moving. A car coming up behind us wouldn't see us in time to stop. The wind picked up even more. Debris was hitting the van and it was being blown around like a toy. I'm surprised we didn't tump over. As I remember, the tornado was off to our left, which makes sense considering the direction we were headed. The main part of the storm was just to the north of us. 

 With the wind and the rain and lightning and thunder and the trees exploding all around us it felt like Armageddon or something, and we were all afraid, some more than others. There was a slight but real possibility that a tornado could've ripped the van apart, and we with it. We were almost dead-ass in the middle of a really, really big storm. We were saying "I love you man!" to each other and really meaning it. Nobody was losing it but we knew that there was always a slight possibility we might not make it. For what it's worth I was praying, and maybe a couple of the other guys were too.  

 After several minutes apocalyptic weather, hugging each other when we weren't being tossed around in the van and saying "Oh, SHIT" a lot, the wind started to break and the rain thinned a little. We were able to speed up to maybe 15mph, and realized that we were going to finally outrun the storm. After a few more minutes we were able to get almost up to normal speed, and we breathed sighs of relief. We stopped at the next gas station. We all had to pee, and I'm guessing that some alcohol was bought. 

 When we got up to highway speed we were able to get ahead of the storm by maybe 75 miles or so. We were having a big time...whooping and hollering and saying shit like "It's great to be alive" and I STILL love you man!" That was quite a ride. I don't remember what time it was when I got back to the apartment, but it was well after midnight. My girlfriend Paige was up watching the weather. Good girl. 

 We hugged and kissed and exchanged pleasantries. We might have exchanged even more pleasantries except that I knew the storm would be here before long, and Paige didn't share my enthusiasm for storms. We had a screened-in porch, and I'd stuff cotton in my ears and put on headphones and go out and enjoy the storm, while Paige would generally be under the covers with the cats, bless her heart. She wasn't a baby about it and don't worry...I'd go in and check on her now and then.

 I knew this was going to be a big one, so I calmly put some extra cushions and pillows on the bed, and we split a glass of wine. The storm was still maybe half an hour away, so we had time to prepare. I decided to wait until the storm was over before I told her about our adventure in the very same storm one state over. She was anxious enough. I did tell her that we drove through it but I didn't go into details. I didn't expect it to be nearly as severe by the time it got to us, although you never know. 

 There's an elevation to the west of where we are in the state, and it breaks up some of the intensity of most storms right before they get to us, but if they come from the south, as a hurricane or are as strong as this storm was, all bets are off. It still hit our area pretty hard, and again the worst part was a little north of us. 

 I sat out on the porch and took in the storm while my girlfriend and cats were snuggled in bed. I thought about what we'd just been through, and started to finally come down from all the Adrenaline and God knows what other chemicals our brains had injected into our bodies. It was good to be alive. 

 The storm was intense for about 15 minutes and then it passed. I went in and we caught up on the week and I told her about how we'd been in the same storm an hour earlier and how intense it was, and how crazy it was to be in the same storm twice. She hugged me and reckoned she was glad we made it. She knew things got crazy on the road, and when you add in a tornado...well, she was always glad when we made it through another week. 

 I've experienced some intense storms before but that one took the cake, and to be in it twice was amazing. The attitude-changing experience of thinking we might die was interesting, and was one of those things that helped me not to take things for granted. When your number comes up you can't do much about it, and it got pretty close to our numbers that night. I always say I love to see a big storm. I got my wish...twice.

 
 

The Perils of Taking a Nap with a Video Playing (I Got Got)

Earlier this afternoon I was so tired I had to take a nap. I knew I shouldn't have done it but I wanted to finish watching the end of a cool video, so I took the laptop. I was starting to crash before it was over and I couldn't even close the laptop. I figured it'd be quiet after the video finished, but there were a couple of others in the queue, and they played automatically.

 It wasn't a problem because I didn't have the volume too loud and I was out cold anyway, but all of the sudden I was rudely jolted out of a dream by an extremely loud "KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK...SHERIFF'S OFFICE." I thought it was real and that the cops were at the door. 

 It was just loud as hell because the cop was in a very reflective hallway with concrete floors and vinyl siding. It was five times louder than the rest of the video. The reason it got me so good wasn't just that it was balls-loud, but we have the exact same kind of hallway here, and it sounded completely real and like it was right out front. Wat da fuque?

 I was yanked out of La-La Land, and all I could think of was wtf did they want with me, and why did they have to knock so damn loudly? Then I started to come back to reality...I noticed that my dog was still next to me, and thank God it was just a video. This is a screenshot of the knock heard 'round the room. I rolled over and had to laugh when I looked at the laptop and saw a cop in the video. I got got. I knew I shouldn't have taken the laptop to bed.
 

A Ticket to Crimson

I've told the story before about going to Atlanta to see the "new" King Crimson on the Discipline tour and all the sheer insanity that went along with it, but I've never talked much about how I finally got a ticket, and that was fairly freaky, like something you'd have seen at a Grateful Dead show. 

 We went without tickets, since the venue sold out immediately, but we knew that the scalpers would be out in full force and we weren't worried. We all had plenty of cash and were prepared to spend well over $100 if necessary, which back then was a bit of cash. About a dozen of us went and we got there around 11am, which we thought would be plenty of time to find tickets.

 We got some lunch and when we got to the venue a little after noon, there were already people selling and looking for tickets. The problem was that way more people were looking than selling. We were far from the only rabid King Crimson fans in the Southeast. The few people who had tickets for sale were immediately getting mobbed. They'd be gone in two seconds, in most cases for well over $100. It looked pretty bleak but we weren't about to give up, and showtime was almost eight hours away.

 As it turned out I was the last to get a ticket, and O' was next-to-last. People would be milling about and then someone would shout "Tickets" and whomever was closest to them would snatch them up, and then you'd hear "OHHHhhh" from the rest of the people. Nobody was selling a dozen tickets at once so we split up into pairs, and O' and I teamed up. 

 One by one or two by two, everybody except O' and I found tickets over the next few hours. I don't think anyone paid less than a hunj. By 5pm the crowd had begun to thin out, and there were hardly any scalpers left. O' finally gave up and went to a nearby bar and started drinking fishbowl-sized martinis that were at least triples. I'd go check on him about every half-hour but I wasn't about to give up on trying to find tickets. 

 Over the next couple of hours O' got completely hammered, even for him. He also had a standing script for Demerol of all things, and those gave him energy to keep drinking. There was almost nobody else in the bar. Luckily the bartender was keeping an eye on him. He'd assured her that he wasn't driving, so she continued serving him. He wasn't unruly but he was completely wasted, and the bartender was glad I was checking in on him. "He's blasted" she said. "I know. I'll take care of him."

 The third or fourth time I went to check on him he was gone. I asked the bartender where he was and she hadn't seen him leave. I went out to look for him, not knowing where to go, and I noticed a commotion and heard horns blaring in the middle of Peachtree Road. I looked over and there was O', in the turn lane in the middle of the road. He'd dressed all in white for the occasion, shirt, pants, shoes, jacket and hat. He'd taken off his jacket and was waving it at passing cars like a Matador. As concerned for his safety as I immediately became I had to laugh. It was one of the craziest things I'd ever seen.

 I weaved my way through oncoming traffic, grabbed his jacket and put it on him. Luckily he didn't fight me and the traffic stopped so we could get back to the sidewalk. I didn't know what else to do so I sat him back down at the bar. "Keep an eye on him please" I said to the bartender. I went back to hunting tickets, having had an incredible diversion. I hoped O' would be okay, but he was a big boy, and certainly used to drinking. Man, you can't buy memories like that. 

 About 45 minutes before showtime I went around back of the venue and caught some of the soundcheck. There were stairs leading up to a door that opened up to the back of the stage, and there sat Bill Bruford. I sat there for about 15 minutes, and figured that at least I got to hear some music. Bill looked down and saw me checking him out, and he smiled and nodded. I nodded back.

 That was the entirety of my interaction with one of my favorite drummers. I wanted to say "Hey man, I named my dog after you" but I didn't. I figured I'd watch the show from there, but then someone closed the door. Back to the ol' drawing board. 

 I guess it was about ten 'til, and there were only a few people outside. I was about to throw in the towel and join O' at the bar when I noticed a guy approaching me. Maybe my eyes were playing tricks on me...I'd been stressed for nearly eight hours and had had to save my buddy from becoming roadkill in the middle of Peachtree, but I swear the guy just materialized. I was looking in that direction and all of the sudden I noticed a guy walking toward me and looking me in the eye. It was like he wasn't there and then he was there.

 Without saying a word he took two tickets from his pocket and held them up to me. My jaw dropped but I shut it long enough to ask "How much?" "List price" he replied. My jaw dropped again. "You need to see Crimson." "I know, but..." "It's cool man" he said. "List price." I gave him $60 or whatever it was. "Enjoy the show" he said, and disappeared around the corner. "Thanks!" I hollered. "You're welcome" he replied. 

 I ran back to the bar and peeled O' off his barstool, gave the bartender a generous tip and held up the tickets. "TICKETSCH? DAMN...HOW MUSCH YOU PAY?" he slurred. "List" I said. "LISCHT?" he asked. "Yep" I said  "Let's go!" "SCHUUUURE!" said O'. "I LOVE YOU MAN!" "You too buddy" I replied. We stumbled into the venue and found our friends and started cheering, about five minutes before the house lights went down. Hey, better late than nev. The show was massive.

 I still think about that guy and how he seemed to magically appear out of nowhere and headed straight for me as if it was meant to be. I think about how I'd have gladly given him an extra $200 but he didn't want a penny. The Good Book says to be careful how we treat others because we might be "entertaining angels unaware."

 Was ticket guy an angel? He certainly was that night. Or was he a demon maybe? I don't think so but I've learned that I can't discount ANYTHING in this world just because I might not believe it's true. That was heavy. He did say that I needed to see Crimson. He was right. I'm still recovering from it. Thanks, ticket guy!