The day I was one of the idiots...

When Gabe was really little, he loved to play with the phone. And, like most kids, there was no faking him out with a pretend phone. It was the real one or nothing. I knew I shouldn't let him do it, but he was just too damned cute with that phone. I used to joke around and tell Vic that it was a good thing had Vonage or we'd end up opening our monthly bill and discovering we had a gazillion dollar charge for the day he dialed BFE or outer Mongolia. One day, he actually managed to dial some number combination that got us a prerecorded message in Spanish. Laughed my ass off about that one.

There was one call he managed to make that made me want to slink away into a corner and hide. One day when he wasn't even 1 1/2, Gabe managed to call 911....and, he didn't just call 911...he called 911, kept the line open, and then dropped the phone somewhere. Like most days at my house, it was loud, noisy, and chaotic. I had no clue he had done this and was totally confused about why there suddenly cops at my door. I totally gave them the dog-face confused look...you know, head cocked, aroooo?, and a very puzzled look on your face...when they asked if I'd called 911 but we all had a light bulb moment when Gabe came tearing ass around the corner, phone in hand, pushing buttons. I was mortified that we had dragged them out for nothing.

I really felt like one of the idiots that day. See, I firmly believe, the idiots of this world are the ones  who keep my husband gainfully employed. This isn't a slam against Vic or any other of the fine people who work as dispatchers. It's just an observation of the truth. Vic has been dispatching either part-time or full time for almost 20 years. Here's a small sampling of the more asinine things people have called him about...

• Yeah, I know they're saying on the TV that if you don't have to go out you shouldn't and it's too icy to drive but I don't have any [insert bread, milk, wine, beer, etc]. Is it safe for me to go to the grocery store? REALLY?!?!?!? *headdesk*
• When does the Carolina (aka UNC Tarholes) game let out? Yeah, that's the real role of the 911 dispatchers, entertainment coordinators.
• I'm going on a road trip. What are the driving conditions in DC? Come on people...we live in fucking NORTH CAROLINA...the 911 dispatchers don't psychically know what the roads are like over 250 miles away.
• What's the weather going to be like tomorrow? Have you heard of watching the fucking news?

The sad thing is that I can match these story for story with tales from my days as a paramedic. The general public has a total lack of common sense these days. Years later, I still laugh my ass off about some of the idiots who called us...and, if you ask pretty please, maybe I'll share some of the best stories with you.

Anyone out there want to fess up about a time that you were one of the idiots? Pleeeeeaaaaaassssseeee!

Brainiacs vs The Ass Clown

Bored teenagers are a bad thing.

Bored, brainiac teenagers are worse.

Bored, slightly pissed off, brainiac teenagers can be truly dangerous.

Back in the summer of '86, I was a rising high school senior and I was being recruited by a ton of colleges including the Air Force Academy. That summer, I went to a summer science seminar for a week at the Air Force Academy. It was a blast. We got to hang out with other really smart kids. We participated in incredibly cool seminars ranging from a sort of computerized Risk game to helping with the scientific analysis of the Shroud of Turin. We also acted like all teens did and had desk chair races in the hallways of the dorms and had a kick ass toga party one night.

Most of the Academy cadets who were working with us during the summer seminar were really cool. They were fun, helpful, and all around good representatives of the Academy. There was one cadet though that was a total ass clown. He was snotty to the guys and he ignored all the girls except the one he wanted to hook up with. He acted like an entitled asshole, not a military gentleman.

They had a bunch of activities planned for us including a field trip to Pike's Peak. But, on the day of the field trip, the schedule changed last minute and a handful of us missed the announcement that moved up the field trip time by an hour. Sadly, missing the announcement meant we missed the bus so we were left with more than a couple of hours to kill and very few of the cadets were left to supervise us. We started thinking.

My friend Matthew and I decided we needed to pull a prank. We really, really needed to pull a prank on the ass clown cadet and, we used information we got from him to pull the prank. During the toga party the night before, he was in his room with the girl he hooked up with...something that would have gotten him in a huge amount of trouble if he'd gotten caught. A huge group of us tried to make sure he got caught in there with her by locking his door from the outside. Sadly, we didn't know about one feature of the Academy dorm rooms that foiled our plan...the huge wall to wall windows. Well, we knew about the windows but we didn't realize that you could slide your window open, reach to the next room's window, and slide it open. Then, all it took was a swing across about 6 to 8 inches of space and you've escaped the locked room and avoided being busted.

Now, it dawned on Matthew and I that this process could be reversed and used to get into a locked room. So, we went to ass clown's hallway and tested doors until we found one that was unlocked. We then went from window to window, going through 5 rooms, until we got to ass clown's room. Did I mention that we were more that 3 stories above the ground and that we stopped to take pictures of each other hanging out the windows?

Once we were in ass clown's room, we started looking for something we could take and hide...something that would be big enough to be immediately noticeable but not something personal. Taking something personal just felt wrong and, we knew ass clown would panic if whatever was missing was Academy property...hehehe. We decided to take his mattress. Once we decided that, one of us took the mattress out the door and the other relocked the door and went back through the windows, closing them all behind and covering our tracks. I think I was the one in charge of the mattress and Matthew took the window duty but it was over 25 years ago so I can't swear who did which job. Once the mattress was out of ass clown's room and the window path was covered, we went looking for another unlocked door. The owner of the open room was the lucky recipient of a mattress in their closet...out of sight, out of mind.

Then, we sat back and waited.I don't think the Pike's Peak group had been back for even 15 minutes before chaos ensued. Ass clown discovered the missing mattress and, as predicted, he panicked. It took over an hour for him to find the mattress and, since we weren't the only ones laughing, no one ever knew who were the masterminds behind the Great Mattress Caper of '86...until now.

I think the lesson from my time out at the Academy was don't piss off a smart kid. They will get you back in the most unexpected way.

Anyone have any stories from your high school years that you want to share?

When Vic Finally Stopped Being Stupid

Back when I wrapped up Vic's Story, I promised you our story and stories from the wayback machine. Life got it the way of my story telling. Between our extended house guests, Marty's medical crises, and all the other random shit life threw at me, my story telling mojo was wrapped up tight. Sure, I've been writing a lot but there have been a lot of times I've struggled with what to write about. Now that life is getting back to normal, the inspiration seems to be coming back. Have I got a story for you...

Some women have wonderful stories about their proposal. One of my friends from back in my rescue squad days has a story that will make you melt. On the day her husband proposed to her, he had set the stage. He had arranged for a picnic lunch after a hike in the woods to one of their favorite spots. He got down on his knee to propose to her with a ring he had custom designed. Its truly one of the most romantic proposals I've heard of...and, it really happened. My proposal was nothing like that. My proposal was better.

It was October of 1994, only about 5 months after Vic pissed me off enough to make me wanna kill him for the second time, and Vic had just gotten home from a 2 week stint at the National Fire Academy. He was telling me all about the different people he'd met up at the Fire Academy. He told me how a couple of the guys had come from a department somewhere up north and they'd recently lost a fellow firefighter in a fire. This firefighter who'd been killed in a fire had a common law wife. He had lived with here for more than 7 years but they'd never gotten married. When he died in that fire, she wasn't eligible to collect any of his benefits because she wasn't his wife. She didn't just lose him, she lost everything.You could hear in Vic's voice how badly this story affected him. Then, Vic looked at me and said "I can't let that happen to you. That's why we have to get married." We got married about a month later in a small civil ceremony.

Now, I know a bunch of you have to be thinking "How could she possibly think this proposal was better than her friend's proposal?" I don't just think it was better. I know it was better. Vic got over his sheer terror of marriage and commitment because he loved me. Vic decided it was more important to take care of me than it was to indulge his fears. Vic decided the love really does trump everything else. And, that perfect proposal I told you about in the beginning, they didn't last. But, the two warped, twisted people who could appreciate a proposal like we had, we're still going strong. In August, Vic and I will have been together for 20 years and, in November, we will celebrate 18 years of marriage. My proposal kicked ass.

Anyone else wanna share your story?

Spooktacular Fun

The weather this past week has made me so happy. I LOVE Fall...the cool crisp weather, the nights starting to come earlier, pumpkins, deep rich jewel tones. I also love Fall because it signals the coming of the holidays. One of these days I'll have the time and energy to decorate for all the holidays the way I want to...even for Halloween. I have grand plans of setting up a grave yard complete with the SkyMall zombie and this super cool motion sensing talking figure of Death. Of course, at the rate I'm going, I will be able to play the role of an old decrepit graveyard resident by the time I get around to this.

The funny thing is that this obsession with Halloween has been around since I was in elementary school. My sisters, friends, and I use to set up our very own haunted house in my bedroom. Even though the entire haunted house was in my room, we still managed to have multiple levels of haunted house. I had a lovely closet with a sliding door that doubled as an elevator between the floors of the haunted house. We just had to convince our friends to stay in the closet long enough to redress the haunted house set. My extremely patient parents put up with us hijacking kitchen goods to create the bowl of intestines and the container of eyeballs. I'm pretty sure I remember us raiding the bathroom supplies to create containers of slime (shampoo works great for that). We did this on more than one occasion and my parents always let us. It was cheesy, not very scary, and a hell of a lot of fun.

I'd love it if you shared a childhood holiday memory with me. What was your favorite holiday? How did you make it special? Was it as thoroughly ridiculous as what my sisters and I did for Halloween?

(Almost) 25 and counting

Did you know that next year is my 25th high school reunion? I know...it shocks the shit out of me too. When I think of myself, I don't think of someone who has been out of high school nearly a quarter of a century (is it just me or does that sound even worse?). I simply don't feel that old. I know my body isn't nearly as skinny as it once was and I know I have a 14 yr old going  into the 9th grade. What I can't figure out is how that many years have passed.

It's a funny thing though. Being 41 and rapidly approaching 42 doesn't bother me. I am comfortable in my own skin. I'm more confident. I'm more secure. I really like the person I've become and I love the people I've surrounded myself with. Sure, if I could reclaim my high school (or college) body tomorrow, I would. But, I wouldn't go back to being younger (even when I wonder how I got to be old enough to be the one in charge). My teenage years were filled with the typical angst and insecurity and I don't want that feeling back.

• Then: I would have been to scared about what people would think and say to do something really unique with my hair or body.
• Now: I rock my purple hair and love it.

• Then: I felt a desperation to belong.
• Now: I am secure in who I am. I embrace my idiosyncrasies and eccentricities.Fuck anyone who doesn't like it.

• Then: I had truly deluded notions of what would make me happy in life.
• Now: I know how little it takes to truly make me happy.

• Then: I'd look at the Duke Basketball players and think "OMG, they are so hot."
• Now: I look at them and think "Boy, they'll look really good when they grow up."

So, share it y'all. How many years since you graduated from high school? Does being older bother you? How have you changed?

I knew I shouldn't

There are times you can see the train wreck coming and, you just can't help yourself, you have to give in...you have to laugh your ass off or give in and say something...even if you are going to pay later. Sadly, that internal censor between my brain and my mouth loses it's fight for self preservation far too often. My long time readers have heard about my epic fail of my internal censor that led to the naming of Damn Duck. Go ahead, go read the story and get a good laugh at my expanse. I'll wait for you to get back.

TV Themes - Jeopardy Theme Tune (Think Music)

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Ok, are y'all back? Good. Now, on to another story about the failure of my internal censor or maybe I prefer to think of it as the victory of my sense of humor over stick in the mud adulthood. Let's hop on the wayback machine and take a trip to the spring of '03.

It was early morning (but not too early) in the spring of '03. I had Marty, his friend Will, Will's sister, and little (at the time) Joey in the van. We had just picked up Will and his sitter and were headed to school. All I could hear from the back seat was whispering, giggling, and something that sounded vaguely like Yankee Doodle. In an effort to be a good mommy, I asked the kids what they were talking about and they said "We're not talking. We're singing." Well, of course I had to ask what they were singing...I should have known better. This is what they were singing...

Yankee Doodle went to town

a-riding on a *Sam

stuck a father up his butt

and called it macaroni.

I knew I shouldn't.

I knew it was wrong.

I knew I would pay for it seriously...but, I did it anyway.

I laughed my ass off.

The payback was that I got to listen to their version of Yankee Doodle for months and months on end.

That wasn't the first time my internal censor failed and it certainly wasn't the last. I'm also sure there will be many more censor FAILS on my part.

Have you ever said or did something you knew you shouldn't but just couldn't help yourself?
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In the spirit of things we shouldn't laugh at but do, here's the video of my mom teaching Gabe her version of Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star (you can read the whole story here)...

When was your first time?

When was your first time? My first time was during the fall semester of my freshman year in college. I had just started at Duke on an Army ROTC scholarship. A few of the guys in my platoon just happened to be members of the DKE fraternity and they invited all of us to their first kegger of the year. That's where it happened. That was my first time. No, not THAT first time. It was my first time having too much to drink. Honestly, there wasn't much

special about the party except for some awesome swing dancing with my ROTC buddy. There was lots and lots of beer and a few quarters games going on. I found out I had an aptitude for quarters as long as I was aloud to launch them off my nose. Sadly. although I had an aptitude for quarters, I had no tolerance for beer. Boy, oh boy did I pay for it the next day.

©1996 Jim Wallace/Duke

The next day, every single ROTC member had to be at the Duke Chapel at 2pm in FULL dress uniform (can we say tight collars much) for the Veteran's Day service.I made it there on time...barely And, I managed to stay upright...barely. But, Kristin was NOT a happy camper. Trying to appear compose and polished when the room is spinning and you feel like your head is going to fall off is NOT a good thing. Tight collars combined with the gag reflex a hangover induces is also NOT a good thing.

Like most college students, the drunken revelry was not a one time thing but it is definitely a thing left to the past While I enjoy a drink now and then and a good party can really rock, I'm too damned old to party like that anymore.

When was your first time? Spill it in the comments or, if you participated in Day 12 of Calliope's blogging summer camp, leave me a link to your post.

High School Me

Calliope's Day 2 of blogging summer camp is the perfect topic for me. With my oldest son starting high school in the fall, it's had me thinking a lot about what I was like back in high school. I was much more reserved and kind of quiet in new situations. With groups I felt comfortable in, my louder, wilder side came out but most of the time I came across as the good girl.

I was involved in a ton of things. I was in Girl Scouts through high school. I earned the highest award in Girl Scouts, the gold award, part of the way through high school and was an assistant leader to a Brownie troop during my junior and senior years. In addition to Girl Scouts, I was involved in a bunch of school activities. I was part of the drama club. Drama  club was kind of a big step for me because I wasn't very comfortable getting up in front of people. I was far to concerned about what people would think of me to ever be a good actor at that age. I know I wasn't very good but I had a great time with it and one of our members is still acting today. I was also on the Flag Girl squad for two years which was a lot of fun. I rounded out my activities with being on the yearbook staff for two years and was the assistant editor my senior year. The really funny thing is that despite being able to write a kick ass paper for English class and despite being on the yearbook staff, I never thought of myself as being a writer. In fact, until recently, I never thought of myself as being a writer.

Even though I was involved in a million things during high school, the only times I ever really felt like I belonged was when I went away to summer camps. It's taken a number of years for me to truly become comfortable in my own skin but I really like who I've  become.

What were you like in high school? What groups did you participate in?

FU On The Lawn - a guest post from husband

A long, long, time ago (about 36 years ago);  in a country far, far away (the former West Germany)' in a now closed down US Army base (Herzo Artillery Base)...

The Army had a summer youth dependent work program.  The purpose of this was to have the kids tied up during the summer vacation, thus giving the base commander and the Provost Marshall (the Chief of Police in an Army base) a break.  During the summer of '75, I was hired by the post Engineers, doing basic maintenance on post.

One week, my friend and I were assigned to mow the field next to the NCO/EM Club (the enlisted men's club). It so happened that this field was also the approach path for incoming helicopters (the brass). So what do you think happens when a person's balls are bigger than their brain?

PS and I got ready to mow the field, and I asked him "What if I was to mow 'FUCK YOU' in 10 ft tall letters?" Remember the balls vs brains analogy? He had to dare me to do it. Of course, I spent the next hour or so mowing some beautiful 10 ft letters. The next day, either a Colonel or General flew into Herzo Base; and he was greeted with the mowed message. It was also a Friday.

The word quickly spread thru the base, and some folks (the base Commander) wanted to see me on Monday morning. Of course, I denied any of it. But, being a conscientious employee, I would be more than happy to fix the problem. And, Edie Murphy thought that he was the original "Fuck You" man.

Vic

Vic's Story...a side trip in the wayback machine...

Two things about this story...1) it does not have to be read in context with the rest of Vic's story. It just strikes me as very funny and I wanted to share the laughs. 2) For any of my friends in the ALI community, this story does deal with childbirth (admittedly in a slapstick sort of keystone cops manner) and, if you are feeling fragile, you might want to skip it...
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I was reading Lollipop Goldstein's post about the ginormous black snake yesterday and it reminded me of a story...

Very few things scare my husband. He is the crazy type who actually considers running into a burning building as good, wholesome fun. Vic use to be scared of needles, snakes, and childbirth. Diabetes has cured him of his fear of needles but he is still, to this day, absolutely and completely terrified of snakes and childbirth. I have personally seen him swerve across a road to avoid the little snake...not because he wanted to save the snake but because it scared him that bad. He also almost shot himself in the foot one time because he looked down, saw the snake, and his brain screamed "Kill it" but forgot to notice his foot was only inches away.

As amusing as that is, it's not half as funny as his EMT delivers a baby in an ambulance tale. Vic's fear of childbirth was legendary in the rescue squad. The man could handle blood, guts, and torn limbs but he couldn't even sit through the childbirth training film during EMT class. Well, a few years before I met him, Vic was on duty as an EMT at the Rescue Squad we met at years later. Vic and his partner were the last ambulance available in the county and a call came out for a women in labor needing transport to the hospital. Vic had to go. They arrived on the scene to find, ummmm, let's call her Roberta (but, yes, he still remembers her name after all these years), 9 months pregnant, having delivered multiple babies previously, fully in labor. Delivery seemed imminent. Since Vic was the more experienced EMT on scene, he had to be with the patient...a women fully in labor...and he was scared shitless. One of the things all EMTs have to do is call in to the hospital when we are en route with a patient. This is how it went...

Unit 1532: Vic's voice sounding shaky XYZ Hospital, XYZ Hospital, we are en route to your facility with a 9 month pregnant patient fully in labor, contractions are 3 minutes apart. pause

XYZ Hospital: noting shakiness/fear in the voice coming over the radio Unit 1532, is everything ok?

Unit 1532: Vital signs are good but...what do I do now?

an aside to note that the hospital KNEW Vic was fully trained, the patient KNEW he was fully trained

XYZ Hospital: realizing exactly which EMT is in the back of the ambulance with the laboring patient...snicker...snicker...Well, Vic, you need to check for crowning.
Unit 1532: audible gulp...baby is crowning...silence follows...
XYZ Hospital: Well Vic, it looks like you are going to deliver a baby.

Vic, my dear, darling Hispanic husband with swarthy olive skin goes white as a sheet...

Vic: Jo (his partner), STEP ON IT.

Sadly, while this sped up the ambulance, it increased the bumpiness of the ride. Every bump, every pothole, every railroad track made Roberta feel like the baby was coming that much faster.

Roberta: The baby is coming.
Vic: begging with the best of them...Roberta, please don't push. Please. It's only a little while longer. Please...
Roberta: Almost laughing between contractions Vic, I've got to push. This baby is coming and it's coming now...

Unit 1532: XYZ Hospital...she says she has to push...
XYZ Hospital: Well Vic, then it's time for you to catch. Call us back if anything changes.

about 15 minutes pass

Unit 1532: XYZ Hospital, we are now en route to your facility with 2 patients. Baby girl was delivered at 11:32 am. pauses and then wails with rising panic What do I do now?
XYZ Hospital: by this time, the nurse manning the radio knew Vic and his fear very well  Well Vic, you need to clamp and cut the cor...
Unit 1532: interrupting Do I have to?
XYZ Hospital: knowing the ambulance was only 5 minutes out...snickering...No Vic, we will have a doc from labor and delivery standing by at the ambulance entrance. Come on in.

the ambulance arrives at the hospital and the labor and delivery doc is waiting on them...The l&d doc clamps and cuts the cord and thoroughly checks over mom and baby.

L&D doc: Roberta, you have a beautiful, healthy baby girl and you seem to be doing fine. turns and looks at my white as a ghost husband who looks like he could keel over at any minute and says Vic, do you need something?

How funny is that? Mom and baby are fine and the poor EMT almost needs a stretcher of his own.

A Trip in the Wayback Machine...Slip 'n Slide Summer

Today was HOT. It was a day for popsicles and running through sprinklers. It was a day for sitting in the shade and going down Slip 'n Slides. It was a day for summer fun. We had many great yards for Slip 'n Slides when I was growing up. In Hawaii, we had a nice gentle slope that let you slide with almost no effort. When we moved to North Carolina, we had a broad, almost perfectly flat front yard that let you take running, flying leaps to take off down the Slip 'n Slide. But, somehow, that wasn't enough for my sister and me.

My sisters and I were always very creative. And, on this one occasion, my parents had gone out for the evening and left us with our favorite baby sitter. This was the baby sitter who had taught us how to slide down the driveway on my baby sister's old crib mattress. Can you guess why we adored her? But, this night, she was innocent of the chaos that ensued. Our beloved babysitter put my sister Keri and I in the bath tub and then went to put our baby sister, Becky, to bed. Well, like most little girls, we liked to play in the bath and, since it was still early in the evening, she let us stay in there and play for a while. Our bathroom in our house in Hawaii was long and narrow. The bathtub and closet were on one side and the vanity and toilet were on the other. In my childhood memories, it was a super long bathroom. In reality, it probably wasn't much longer than the bathroom we have in our house now. In our children's point of view, that bathroom floor stretched on forever and ever and looked like a perfect place to slide. Keri and I splashed water out of the tub and all over the floor and then slid up and down that floor. The water got deeper, the shrieks of fun got louder, and all was good in our world until our babysitter opened the door. In our enthusiasm for our indoor slip 'n slide, we forgot one little detail...that damned crack under the bathroom door. Every time we slipped and sloshed on that floor, we slipped and sloshed water under the door where the carpet conveniently wicked the water away. Well, as the carpet wicked the water away, we just splashed more water out of the tub and onto our indoor slip 'n slide. By the time our baby sitter got Becky into bed and came back to check on me and Keri, we had so much water on the floor and in the carpet that it took every single towel in the house to dry the floor...and, we lived in Hawaii so we had  TON of beach towels in the house. It goes without saying that my parents were not pleased with us. Luckily, the amusement factor outweighed the frustration/anger and, as long as we promised not to repeat our stunt, we didn't get in to too much trouble. Hehehe, we didn't repeat that stunt but we did plenty of other things. Our imaginations and sneakiness knew no bounds.