It’s safe to say at some point in everyone’s life; they hit a period or an event in which they realize things need to change. For some of us, there are several. At the ripe age of 20, I found myself living a less than a life of luxury. No real job, no future, and making a lot of poor choices. To most it’s reprehensible; to some it’s how it goes. While at this stage in my life, the life I was living let a lot of people down. While a majority of the cats I was running with at that time are still going strong, doing good things with their lives, some aren’t.
When you are young and dumb in the SWI, it’s more than easy to find yourself in “compromising” positions. What I’m about to share with you is one of many I faced, this one being the most innocent I could be.
At the end of the summer of 95, me and about four of my friends rented and moved into a lovely little house not far from main street Shenandoah. Of course lovely is the complete opposite term I mean to use. We lovingly referred to this house as the Crack house, for a variety of reasons. Originally a duplex, the simple act of leaving one door opened turned this realtors dream into a 5 bedroom pleasure palace, ready for sin. Needless to say, a lot of details in this story will be omitted, those around then will know just where and what to fill in at the appropriate spots. I am willingly protecting the innocent here, and before you judge, remember these were different times.
The Crack house was a well known house in the small community. We’d been known to have parties, brawls, and some minor property damage to neighbor’s yards from time to time. It was also apparently a great spot to keep an eye on the who’s who of Shenandoah’s “underworld”. There was some surveillance of the place, constantly it seemed. It stood to reason. I was one of I believe 5 that were living there at the time. We had only been there a short time, and the lifestyle was beginning to wear on some of my wiser roommates. We had a neighbor that lived nearby, that from time to time, crossed our path. This neighbor had quite the reputation, one of a man with a chemical problem, a temper, and a love for martial arts and weapons. We will here by refer to him has Danger. Now Danger had a young girlfriend, high school young. As a matter of fact, she was in the same grade as one of my roomies girlfriends, they were close. One day, Dangers lady friend paid her besty a visit while they were both in town, stopping at the crack house for a chat. Seems innocent enough, as truly, it was.
That night we had a small bash at the crack house, nothing to wild. About a dozen of us, doing what we did, enjoying the night. That night, I apparently did it well, and decided to call it a night fairly early, almost setting it up perfectly.
Keep in mind, not so far away Danger was on one hell of a bender, spun out of his head, soothing himself with shots of Jack Daniels. He was out on the town with one of my oldest friends, one we all lovingly refer to as Griz. Later, I’d find out that all night his behavior had disturbed Griz that night, but that did me no good.
I lay asleep in my bed, all tucked in grinning ear to ear. To this day, I can remember the dream as if it were a favorite movie. For some reason, I became very hungry in my sleep, so in said dream, I ordered a pizza. I can recall the pizza’s arrival and my joy due to this. As it became time to pay for the pizza, things went south in a hurry. For some reason, the mood changed. The pizza dude began to choke the shit out of me. Damn, did this seem real. Before having the sense to wake up, I remember repeatedly asking “Who are you?” Then with one answer, I woke up. “It’s Danger”.
As my eyes popped open, thanks to the light from the hallway I can recall seeing Danger’s bulging eyeballs as he sat on top of me, choking the living shit out of me. Naturally, I began to fight back. My panic allowed me to get the quick upper hand, only to eventually get me trapped between the bed and the wall, where I became the victim of a few stomps to the midsection from Danger. As I struggled to escape what appeared to be my grave, my bedroom light came on. Luckily Griz, and a lil scrapper we’ll refer to as RB came to my rescue. Griz quickly tackled Danger, as RB whisked me from the battle zone my room had become.
A little back story here, my room was right next to my dear friend Kraig’s, and there was only a doorway, minus the door, separating the rooms. As RB pulled me from the carnage, I can recall looking at Kraig. He looked like a damn illustration from a Goosebumps novel, eyes bugged out with his blanket all the way up to the bridge of his nose, almost covering his unibrow. I recall saying something along the lines of “Thanks buddy” on my way out. He was no help.
RB quickly got me downstairs, where the party was still going. Of course, I was the only one hanging out in my drawers at this time. Still completely freaked, I repeatedly asked everyone what the hell was going on, they were all as lost as me. They had no Idea Danger was even in the house. Then the carnage came rolling down the stairs. Danger had broken free from Griz’s grasp and made another charge at me. He grabbed me by the top of my hair, and began planting knees into my face. Instinctively, the shitty junior high wrestler in me awoke and I hit him with a single leg, right into the coffee table. At this point, the loveable and well time TV decided he’d seen enough, and grabbed Danger in a bear hug and threw him out with the rest of the trash. Needless to say, no one slept in that house that night.
A short time later, I found out that Danger was a jealous man, and since his gf had ventured over, out of the 6 inhabitants, well naturally it was me she was screwing around with. Not a week later, after another brawl, Danger showed up again, this time with a samurai sword, ready for war. I on the other hand wasn’t. It was only a matter of months at this point before I wisely decided to part with that home, although there were more adventures along the way. Needless to say, it took a good decade for me to sleep like a normal human being after that. For real.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Pride of the Bearcats
Recently, I was reminiscing about my college experience with my sister in law. She noticed, as did I that, I frequently referred to my “Original Freshman Year”. Yes folks, I was so damn special I had two. Not by design of course, but by choice of poor attendance and behaviors. I’ll elaborate.
In August of 93 I enrolled at THE NWMSU in Maryville, Mo. Home of the Bearcats. Most anyone reading this will be very familiar with the scene. While most of my fellow freshman were enrolling in hopes of earning a degree, I can’t recall that even being on my list. I believe it was in ’91, NWMSU topped Playboy’s list as the #1 party school in America. It was an hour from home and I had a lot of friends going there. What better place to go and live my animal house dreams.
From the get go, I should’ve seen how this was going to be a very expensive disaster. I made a lot of friends, drank a lot of beer, and indulged in a lot of other bad habits. I was a typical college kid. Unfortunately the thing that set me apart from my classmates, was my want of attending classes. While initially, I did alright, eventually the burden of waking up, walking, and homework became a cross I didn’t feel like bearing, regretfully so. Sometime, towards the middle of October, I abandoned classes all together. I still can’t tell you what was on my mind or drove me to the decision, but it happened.
So naturally, things began to escalate. The parties were more frequent, the dorms RA’s and campus security seemed to have me on the radar quite a bit, go figure. Then finally, the levee broke.
It started off as innocently as I could’ve possibly been in those days. I lived on the 7th floor of Dietrich Hall, room 701 to be exact. My cousin Shelby had the same room some two years later when they turned it co-ed. She claimed it smelled of urine and vomit, not a surprise. I got along pretty well with most of the guys on my floor, hung out with quite a few of them. Back then, Bearcat football was bad. I’m talking Iowa state bad, no hope, a bunch of drunken criminals running around. There were several football players on my floor, and I had somehow developed a great report with the linebacking corps. About 11 pm on a misty night, I was having beers in a room down on the 6th floor, sitting in the window sill. As I looked out the window, I noticed a vehicle hauling ass down the windy road behind the dorm. I recall stating “what the hell”. As the headlights approached, I recognized the pickup as it belonged to a friend of mine named Phil. Now Phil was a stud linebacker from Texas, and if I had my guess, it would not be that he is a Doctor these days. Hell, he used to cheat off of me in some of the classes we shared back then. A great guy, but those lights weren’t all on .
Anyway, as the truck approached, not only did it become evident he was losing control, but also that there were three large men standing in the bed of it pounding on the roof. I knew this wasn’t going to end well. Immediately, the pickup barreled over a curb, and into a light pole, toppling the light pole and sending the 3 nutbars in the back flying. I immediately jumped into action, running down the stairs to check on them. By the time I stumbled to the last flight of stairs, they were all coming up, begging to be hidden. Fair enough, up to my room. After about an hour of having beers, no one appeared to be looking for them. Campus Safety just towed the truck and went about their night. We were in the clear.
Then someone, a drunk someone decided it would be cute to start a water and shaving cream fight. Not saying it was me, but someone did it. It quickly escalated to about 15 drunken underage students running about the 7th floor dousing each other at 1 in the morning. Well not everybody. I was the only one who seemed to avoid the mess. Pretty soon, the other 14 realized this and turned on me. After a couple of dope moves, proving I would’ve been a prime candidate for the running back spot on the squad, I approached my room. I’m still not certain as to the location of my roommate that night, but he was not there. As I bolted into by room, about six of them closed in on me. I tried my damndest to hold the door, but was failing miserably. There was only one option. I quickly grabbed my roomies can of right guard off the dresser and a lighter he had left behind. The McGuyver in me went straight makeshift and fought off the bloodthirsty mob, chasing them down the hall with my hillbilly blow torch. Unbeknownst to be, campus safety and a couple of RA’s had arrived on the scene to investigate complaints on our behavior. I chased the mob away, returned to my room. I cranked up the stereo (probably some cypress hill or pantera, I was hardcore) and sat down to play some sega and finish my beer. The poundings on my door went on for about 15 minutes, I naturally sensed a trap being laid by friends. Then it was pee time. As I approached the door, I noticed a couple of ID cards and a note had been slid underneath it. Shit this can’t be good.
“We are going to get the keys. Either contact us or you will be arrested.”
Shit. I quickly disposed of any contraband, in the recycle bin of course, and hit the elevator. As the door opened, there they were. A couple of Campos I’d had the displeasure of meeting during a big campus brawl a few weeks before, and they remembered me. I accompanied them to a room downstairs. We remained in there for 20 minutes, eventually I was released and went to bed.
Three days later, I received notice of a hearing with the dorm board the next week, with all the charges listed: Terrorism, Assault with a deadly weapon, Disturbing the peace, yada yada yada. It was quite the list, and laughable. I didn’t sweat it, waited until my hearing. These hearings were held in the dorm commons area, where I sat next to a dude from the fifth floor, awaiting my fate. What I remember from this was the awesomeness of his “crime”. He was a good ole boy, going in front of the board for throwing a severed deer head out of his 5th story window. How awesome is that? Before our friendship could bloom, I was called in. I was in there for 2 minutes before they could say my infractions were too serious for this level, that I was turned over to a student senate hearing the following day. My words to them were, and I quote, “Are you fucking kidding me?” They meant business. Now I was a little freaked.
This one wasn’t so fun. Believe it or not, I had experienced court before this, not a fan of it. But I went in, only after getting my mind right. All I can recall was about a dozen students sitting in a panel like a damn congressional hearing, flanking what may have been the school president. Not sure who he was, he looked important. After spewing back my offenses and what not, they gave me my turn to talk. Seeing how my mind was right, I’m certain all I said was completely incomprehensible. If I recall, by the looks on their faces, it had to have been. After a 1 minute deliberation, they came back with their verdict. The death penalty. I was to remove myself from the campus of NWMSU for a period of two years. They said If I had set foot on said campus, I would be arrested for trespassing. I laughed. Out loud. I truly thought this was a joke, until assured by the President, or whatever the hell he was, that this was not. At this point I smiled, wadded up the little paper with all my charges they gave me and tossed to the man with brass balls, thanking him.
This was of course a fun thing to explain to the mom and dad, which I’m certain they never believed me. Although I did make a few more trips onto that campus, I managed to stay off of it for the most part until my ban was up. Strangely enough, they allowed me to re-enroll there in 2001. I managed to behave myself, for the most part, and to the best of my knowledge, I’m still welcome on the campus.
In August of 93 I enrolled at THE NWMSU in Maryville, Mo. Home of the Bearcats. Most anyone reading this will be very familiar with the scene. While most of my fellow freshman were enrolling in hopes of earning a degree, I can’t recall that even being on my list. I believe it was in ’91, NWMSU topped Playboy’s list as the #1 party school in America. It was an hour from home and I had a lot of friends going there. What better place to go and live my animal house dreams.
From the get go, I should’ve seen how this was going to be a very expensive disaster. I made a lot of friends, drank a lot of beer, and indulged in a lot of other bad habits. I was a typical college kid. Unfortunately the thing that set me apart from my classmates, was my want of attending classes. While initially, I did alright, eventually the burden of waking up, walking, and homework became a cross I didn’t feel like bearing, regretfully so. Sometime, towards the middle of October, I abandoned classes all together. I still can’t tell you what was on my mind or drove me to the decision, but it happened.
So naturally, things began to escalate. The parties were more frequent, the dorms RA’s and campus security seemed to have me on the radar quite a bit, go figure. Then finally, the levee broke.
It started off as innocently as I could’ve possibly been in those days. I lived on the 7th floor of Dietrich Hall, room 701 to be exact. My cousin Shelby had the same room some two years later when they turned it co-ed. She claimed it smelled of urine and vomit, not a surprise. I got along pretty well with most of the guys on my floor, hung out with quite a few of them. Back then, Bearcat football was bad. I’m talking Iowa state bad, no hope, a bunch of drunken criminals running around. There were several football players on my floor, and I had somehow developed a great report with the linebacking corps. About 11 pm on a misty night, I was having beers in a room down on the 6th floor, sitting in the window sill. As I looked out the window, I noticed a vehicle hauling ass down the windy road behind the dorm. I recall stating “what the hell”. As the headlights approached, I recognized the pickup as it belonged to a friend of mine named Phil. Now Phil was a stud linebacker from Texas, and if I had my guess, it would not be that he is a Doctor these days. Hell, he used to cheat off of me in some of the classes we shared back then. A great guy, but those lights weren’t all on .
Anyway, as the truck approached, not only did it become evident he was losing control, but also that there were three large men standing in the bed of it pounding on the roof. I knew this wasn’t going to end well. Immediately, the pickup barreled over a curb, and into a light pole, toppling the light pole and sending the 3 nutbars in the back flying. I immediately jumped into action, running down the stairs to check on them. By the time I stumbled to the last flight of stairs, they were all coming up, begging to be hidden. Fair enough, up to my room. After about an hour of having beers, no one appeared to be looking for them. Campus Safety just towed the truck and went about their night. We were in the clear.
Then someone, a drunk someone decided it would be cute to start a water and shaving cream fight. Not saying it was me, but someone did it. It quickly escalated to about 15 drunken underage students running about the 7th floor dousing each other at 1 in the morning. Well not everybody. I was the only one who seemed to avoid the mess. Pretty soon, the other 14 realized this and turned on me. After a couple of dope moves, proving I would’ve been a prime candidate for the running back spot on the squad, I approached my room. I’m still not certain as to the location of my roommate that night, but he was not there. As I bolted into by room, about six of them closed in on me. I tried my damndest to hold the door, but was failing miserably. There was only one option. I quickly grabbed my roomies can of right guard off the dresser and a lighter he had left behind. The McGuyver in me went straight makeshift and fought off the bloodthirsty mob, chasing them down the hall with my hillbilly blow torch. Unbeknownst to be, campus safety and a couple of RA’s had arrived on the scene to investigate complaints on our behavior. I chased the mob away, returned to my room. I cranked up the stereo (probably some cypress hill or pantera, I was hardcore) and sat down to play some sega and finish my beer. The poundings on my door went on for about 15 minutes, I naturally sensed a trap being laid by friends. Then it was pee time. As I approached the door, I noticed a couple of ID cards and a note had been slid underneath it. Shit this can’t be good.
“We are going to get the keys. Either contact us or you will be arrested.”
Shit. I quickly disposed of any contraband, in the recycle bin of course, and hit the elevator. As the door opened, there they were. A couple of Campos I’d had the displeasure of meeting during a big campus brawl a few weeks before, and they remembered me. I accompanied them to a room downstairs. We remained in there for 20 minutes, eventually I was released and went to bed.
Three days later, I received notice of a hearing with the dorm board the next week, with all the charges listed: Terrorism, Assault with a deadly weapon, Disturbing the peace, yada yada yada. It was quite the list, and laughable. I didn’t sweat it, waited until my hearing. These hearings were held in the dorm commons area, where I sat next to a dude from the fifth floor, awaiting my fate. What I remember from this was the awesomeness of his “crime”. He was a good ole boy, going in front of the board for throwing a severed deer head out of his 5th story window. How awesome is that? Before our friendship could bloom, I was called in. I was in there for 2 minutes before they could say my infractions were too serious for this level, that I was turned over to a student senate hearing the following day. My words to them were, and I quote, “Are you fucking kidding me?” They meant business. Now I was a little freaked.
This one wasn’t so fun. Believe it or not, I had experienced court before this, not a fan of it. But I went in, only after getting my mind right. All I can recall was about a dozen students sitting in a panel like a damn congressional hearing, flanking what may have been the school president. Not sure who he was, he looked important. After spewing back my offenses and what not, they gave me my turn to talk. Seeing how my mind was right, I’m certain all I said was completely incomprehensible. If I recall, by the looks on their faces, it had to have been. After a 1 minute deliberation, they came back with their verdict. The death penalty. I was to remove myself from the campus of NWMSU for a period of two years. They said If I had set foot on said campus, I would be arrested for trespassing. I laughed. Out loud. I truly thought this was a joke, until assured by the President, or whatever the hell he was, that this was not. At this point I smiled, wadded up the little paper with all my charges they gave me and tossed to the man with brass balls, thanking him.
This was of course a fun thing to explain to the mom and dad, which I’m certain they never believed me. Although I did make a few more trips onto that campus, I managed to stay off of it for the most part until my ban was up. Strangely enough, they allowed me to re-enroll there in 2001. I managed to behave myself, for the most part, and to the best of my knowledge, I’m still welcome on the campus.
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