Nevermind Its Not That Important

I called a friend of mine that I worked with in NC the other day with the intention of thoroughly venting a months worth of work frustrations on him.  After the “hello’s” and “how yaw doings” we set out on a little trip through memory lane when we worked on Truck 6 for the fire department.  Let me first explain Truck 6, imagine a hardware store on wheels with all of the wonderful toys that firemen love to play with added to it, chainsaws, oxy-acetylene torches, Jaws and cutters, axes, sledgehammers the list goes on and on.  Not everyone could work on the Truck Company you had to apply to be on it.  We both had applied and were accepted to the Truck at the same time.  I had known him for a few years when we worked on an engine together as fire fighters and we were pretty good friends.  I used to call him spaghetti sucking filthy Diego and he would refer to me as a drunken potato munching Paddy Mick.  We had our own little “5 Points” Italian vs. the Irish gang thing going.

 

 

 

Guys who work on a Truck or “Truckies” have a certain disdain for guys who work on engines.  Truckies are responsible for forcing entry into buildings, cutting utilities, search and rescue during a house fire, laddering and venting roofs, and cutting people out of wrecked cars just to name a few of the responsibilities on an almost endless list.  Engine guys pulled hose and sprayed water.  They are like the younger, dumber, and weaker step children of the fire service.  They are slight of frame have a large sloping foreheads and flat teeth suitable for grinding fruit and grains; they lack any common sense at all.  This is the kind of attitude Truckies have so you better understand.  Truckies are real fire men, hose-hogging-panty-waste-girly-boy-chick engine guys just draw a paycheck. 

 

The trip through the past started innocently enough then turned plain comical somewhere. We went back and forth with topics like:

 

“Do you remember that drunken dude you punched?”

“Do you remember that time you fell off of the ladder?”

“Do you remember that guy splattered all over I-40?”

“Do you remember that prank we pulled on the engine guys?”

“Remember that slut you used to date?”

  

 It went on and on for a while us laughing hysterically at each story.  Then the conversation turned to:

 

“Remember when we had to go to the funeral when Dan killed himself?”

“Remember that time the building collapsed and you almost died and it took three of us to drag your sorry Mick ass out of there and we all thought we were dragging out your dead body?”

“Remember when we went to visit Jason in the burn center in Chapel Hill and we brought him the flag off the Truck we all signed it and he died while we sat there and watched?”

“Remember that time I fell off of the roof and I broke my back and you demanded to ride to the hospital with me even when the Chief said no”

“Remember those two kids we pulled out of that house and did CPR in the front yard even though we both knew they were dead and our turnouts were covered in burnt skin and blood?”

 

Then he asked “What was it you wanted to vent about?”

 

I said “never mind its not that important.”

Lt. Dan and His Magic Legs

On Memorial day I sat down after a long morning of preparing the house for the onslought of family members who were planning a full invasion of Casa De Hooligan most of them I cannot really stand so I was a little pissed.  Add the fact that I had just got back from a parade where everyone must have been a card carrying Pinko Commie judging from the way that the majority of them acted when the American flag was marched by in the front of the crowd.  For those of you that dont know you get off your lazy ass, stand up, take your hat off ! 

Anyway, back to the story.  I was surfing the glowing box when I landed upon CNN they were about the break into a commercial and the anchor said something like “Coming up, see what Gary Sinese is doing about the war in Iraq” the following is an actual dialog I had with the glowing box:

Hooligan:  NOOOOOOO!!!!!! Gary not you too please for the love of God tell me your not like Sean Penn?

Glowing Box: Showing a commercial for Levitra

Hooligan: (falling to the floor in front of the glowing box hands raised toward the heavens) Please! Please! Please! Tell me this isnt happening not Lt. Dan this is too much I cant take it.  You commie son of a bitch why are you doing this?

Glowing Box: Now showing a commercial for some lame chick flick

Hooligan: (Still on floor sobbing) Werent you in the Marines???  How can you turn your back on our troops?  (Shaking fist at sky)  Why God…..Why have you forsaken me?

Glowing Box: Now has Larry King interviewing Gary

Hooligan:  What did he just say…….wait what is that hat and coat Gary is wearing….I recognize that logo…….its the USO logo……Whats going on here……….Why are you playing bass in a band and wearing a USO coat……..your standing in front of Uniformed Soldiers?????

Glowing Box:  Gary is now talking about a charity called Fisher House .

Hooligan: What is this you are building houses for soldiers families who have been wounded so they can be together while they heal………you have raised money to buld in 16 states……..You play in a band called the Lt. Dan Band for the USO…….you have played 58 concerts for the troops………I am confused you support the troops? 

Just when you think all hope is lost you find out there is a star like Gary who is doing something positive.  And for those of you that think that he is just riding the wave to gain popularity he has been involved in Veteran groups and other Military related charities for over 20 years.  Bravo Gary Sinese you get five fists up on the Hooligan scale.

                      

Week In Review

  I decided to refrain from commenting on the Ass-clownery and Ass-Piracy that is Paris Hilton and her traumatic jail sentence and the wuss bag legal system on the Left Coast.  I have also decided to steer clear of the never ending Immigrant debate that also seems to originate on the Left Coast……..I see a pattern here?  For English press “1″ Para Espanol “move back to the country of your origin and call them from there”.  Nuff of that crap!

This past weekend I had to be two places at once.  One was at the Moslem Shrine Temple in Southfield to watch a good friend of mine “Cross the Burning Sands” in the new Shriner Cerimonial.  The second was to travel to Grand Rapids to watch my younger brother complete his Master Mason Degree at Grand Rapids Lodge #34 .  I chose to go watch my brother in Grand Rapids.  I took a tour of his Lodge which is huge six full stories of Masonic goodness.  I also got to visit the Michigan Masonic Library at his Lodge, impressive does not seem to cover it.  For all of you conspiracy people out there the final Master Mason ceremony is when you find out who shot JFK, how to get free gas, and how we as Freemasons rule the world (kidding).  The ride was nice I had borrowed a “Monster Cable” so I could plug in my Ipod and listen through the radio.  It was Street Dogs, The Tossers, and Social Distortion all the way there and back.  That day seemed to get the ball rolling on getting me out of my mood that I have been stuck in for weeks now.  Its odd how friends and laughter can do that in short order?

As an added bonus at work for two days straight I was privy to both Scolai and Ole Reliable hanging at the station in the mornings and I am wondering why Scolai did not mention his welcome home sign I made him?

There Is No Such Thing As A Stupid Question

I had a college Prof that did not subscribe to this theory, he ruled.  He would actually come right out and say “That was a stupid question” given the fact that he had just covered the topic of the stupid question in his lecture and just a small attention span could have prevented such a stupid question he felt the need to call people out on it, I loved him for it.

So there I am last night sitting in the fire truck glaring at a power line that had fallen across the road after a storm and hating the fact that I have been reduced to a power line baby sitter when Joe Citizen walks up to the bright yellow “Fire Line Do Not Cross” tape we have placed across the road.  Seeing that he wanted to actually cross the tape that was seperating him from a painfull death I met him at the tape line.  The conversation went a little something like this:

Joe Citizen: “Whats going on?”

Hooligan: “Power line down across the road, we are waiting for Edison”

Joe Citizen: “Power Line?”

Hooligan: “Yup, Power Line you know the ones that carry electricity both to and fro”

Joe Citizen: “Where is it?”

Hooligan: pointing about three feet away at the LARGE power line surrounded by flares and caution tape in broad daylight ”There”

Joe Citizen: “Ohhhh, does it have eletricity in it?”

Hooligan:  “Dunno you almost have to assume they do dont ya?”

Joe Citizen: “Are you with the Police Department”  *mind you I am in full gear standing within spitting distance of a very large and very expensive RED FRIGGING FIRE TRUCK!

Hooligan: “No I am with the fire department you know….the good guys”

Joe Citizen:  “Why is the fire department watching a power line?”

Hooligan: “I was just wondering the same thing”

I often wonder if such stupidity actually causes physical pain?