| Straight
from the holler.
by "Buck" July 27, 2006 Perhaps it’s a sign I’m getting old. I’m yearning for contact with people I knew in a former life. Maybe it has to do with the fact that I have a 20-year high school reunion coming up in September. Slowly, as the plans for this develop, I’m getting information on people I’d long forgotten and finding out where they are now. I’m pleased to learn that many who were considered “the beautiful people” and stared down their noses at me from their ivory towers are now utter failures in life. It warms my heart to know that a couple of those who used to enjoy making hurtful remarks behind my back are now ex-cons. One girl who ditched me on a date is now a divorced mother working at Burger King. Ah yes, the reunion is always a time for redemption for those of us who have persevered and kept our noses to the grindstone to hammer out success stories. I was back home and saw my best friend from high school for the first time in about 18 years last weekend. He’s a state trooper in another state now and a member of their tactical assault squad. I guess that’s the rural equivalent of a SWAT team. Anyway, he had some great stories. He told me about a guy he was chasing that ran up on somebody’s porch trying to get away. The homeowner wouldn’t let him in, so he jumped off the porch and smashed his head on a rock in the yard. My buddy cuffed him and threw him over the hood of the cruiser—blood everywhere from his head wound. He called the ambulance to come and take care of the guy…who refused treatment. My buddy said he wasn’t about to put him in the cruiser and have to clean up blood in the back seat. The EMT’s said there was nothing they could do if he refused treatment—so they waited until he passed out. THEN they were able to load him in the meat wagon. My buddy drove around for two days in his cruiser with blood on the hood. He told another great story about a guy who had shot and killed his wife and teenage daughter in their yard and was holed up in his house. When my buddy arrived with the tactical team there wasn’t a cruiser around that wasn’t full of bullet holes. Apparently this guy had shot the hell out of the place. They slipped up to the door and he kicked it open while his sergeant threw in what’s called a “flash-bang.” It’s sort of a hand grenade that simply makes a huge “bang” and a bright “flash” designed to freeze and stun a suspect so they can be quickly apprehended. It doesn’t throw off the shrapnel of a grenade to kill people—but it does cause some damage. In this case it was especially damaging since the suspect had blown off the top of his own head before they went in. When the guy threw the flash-bang grenade down the hall it landed IN THE GUY’S HEAD. The explosion blasted his entire head all over the hallway! Yeah, we shared old memories for a good four hours on his front porch. Before I knew it, it was midnight—well past my bedtime. I also this week reconnected with a girl I knew in college. She was from the great state of Tennessee and formerly a University of Tennessee cheerleader when I knew her in college. No, this was not a former girlfriend (God don’t I wish), she was just a girl I got to know because we had a couple of classes together. She was well known on campus and was a legitimate smoking hot babe. Why she allowed me into her circle I’ll never know, except for the fact in addition to being centerfold material…she was genuinely a nice person. Her name came up in a conversation this week and trolling across the internet I found her name again. She runs a gymnastics school---which figures. There was a number and I gave her a call. Shockingly, she remembered me in vivid detail and wasn’t repulsed. I found myself recoiling into my former shell, knowing I was speaking to one well out of my league. However, she’s not changed a bit. She’s still in awesome shape and enjoying tumbling. She still has that thick southern accent that makes Buck melt. Only now—she’s got three kids and has been married to a guy she grew up with. She chastised me for not staying in touch. I chastised myself for the same thing. Guys are not like girls when it comes to this kind of stuff. A co-worker of mine asked why I had no lasting friendships from high school or college. Apparently I do, I just never bothered to cultivate them. Guys don’t cultivate long-term relationships. Women are more heart strung on people they know and spend the rest of their lives building friendships—even in their absence. Guys forget you the moment you’ve left the room. Conversely, women will also spend a lifetime cultivating a grudge. If a woman didn’t like a person in high school, that stewed hatred will simmer and deepen over the years. With guys, you can beat the shit out of a guy in a barroom brawl over a woman—and the next day, buy him a beer and watch a ballgame. It’s just another of the differences carried by a singe chromosome—amazing ain’t it? This could almost be Further Evidence….but all I can say it this is a collection of people who ain’t getting laid and in fact haven’t had sex since Reagan. President Bush was in town Wednesday for some fundraising deal for a local politician. He stopped at a lemonade stand on the way back to the airport and bought a bunch of glasses, but he didn’t drink any. He blamed it on watching his weight….but I’m guessing the Secret Service doesn’t allow such things until it’s been fully tested. (Meaning the low man on the S-S totem poll must drink it first and live). I found it funny he handed the “possibly poison” lemonade to THE PRESS CORPS! Ha! Made me think though, there might really be something to Jeff Kay’s story about the presidential shit collection when he takes a dump outside the White House. Man, how would you like to have the job of overseeing THAT detail!!!!! I think I’d rather be the poison tester. As always, I’m here for ya…. Moonshinebuck@yahoo.com Buck Out |
