Way Back Weekend

This morning on the radio they kicked off 4 days of 90's music for a Way Back Holiday Weekend. So I got to thinking about 90's music and one of the most influential songs of the 90's came from a band that rocketed to stardom. Everyone knows Nirvana, yet relative few know the band that fueled Nirvana's song that led to them being wildly successful - Pixies.

Kurt Cobain, on influencing Nirvana's "Smells Like Teen Spirit", which he admitted was a conscious attempt to co-opt the Pixies' style. In a January 1994 interview with Rolling Stone, he said, "I was trying to write the ultimate pop song. I was basically trying to rip off the Pixies. I have to admit it [smiles]. When I heard the Pixies for the first time, I connected with that band so heavily I should have been in that band—or at least in a Pixies cover band. We used their sense of dynamics, being soft and quiet and then loud and hard."

Where is My Mind - Pixies



I didn't truly appreciate "Smells Like Teen Spirit" as much as I do now. Looking back I understand more clearly the influence it had on changing the music landscape. Without Nirvana would we have Cage The Elephant or the Foo Fighters? I'm glad we will never have to know the answer to that.



I'm worse at what I do best and for this gift I feel blessed...MH

New Survivor Cast Announced

Lisa Whelchel, Michael Skupin, Jeff Kent and the other Russell are among the contestants for Season 25 of Survivor. There will be a total of 15 new tribe members and 3 returning cast members, including "fire victim" Michael Skupin from Outback. They will be divided into 3 tribes. For more details, see link below.

Survivor: Philippines Cast

The tribe has spoken...MH

New Old Seether Single

Finally released as a single 10 years after the albums release.



MH

SOTD - Don't Tread On Me

I love our canoe...MH

Chapter 5.1 Ghost Hunting

Chapter 5.1: Ghost Hunting

It is amazing what friends will do for one another because they truly are a friend. It is also amazing what friends will do to each other, how they will test each other and see just how far each one is willing to go for the other in order to prove their friendship. Matt never second guessed anything that I asked him to do or take part in. He would go into any event with the attitude that if I was putting us into that situation then it was either for a good cause or it would not cause us any danger itself because there was no way I would ever intentionally inflict danger upon us on purpose. Well, there were a couple of situations where such danger existed, but I was either too naive or stupid to notice its presence or existence.

Since I can remember, I have always been fascinated with ghosts and tales of the paranormal. I have always loved to listen to scary stories, create scary stories, and even tell scary stories. Growing up, it seemed to be my duty to scare my younger cousins and sister. I was the eldest cousin and when they would all come down for the holidays for eating and getting together, I took it upon myself to try and scare the heck out of them.

One of my favorite activities involved my cousins getting together at my great grandmother’s home. She was the best cook in the entire world and we would all gather at her home during every holiday that centered around food. Thanksgiving and Easter were two of these holidays that stood out. We would all gather at my grandmother’s house which resided upon land that had been in my family before the Civil War itself. What was cool was we would eat, and then the cousins would all get together and play outside. What was even cooler was the fact that they would all listen to me and pretty much do anything that I asked them or requested them to do. If I wanted to play waffle ball, I would just say something and everyone would play that. If I wanted to play explorers, we would all set out into the woods looking for whatever I decided that we were looking for. Don’t think that I had sort of a power trip or something, but I really enjoyed having these family members of mine under my direct control. I felt like I was their leader and they would pretty much do anything that I asked them to.

One of my favorite things to do with them involved my great, great grandparents home which was across the street from my great grandmother’s house. It was an old run downed building that was even sitting sideways. It resided upon an old sandstone foundation and part of it was caving in. The house itself was well over 100 years old and had been built by my great, great grandfather and great, great grandmother. They had lived there with my great grandfather and even my great grandmother had lived there with them as well while they were married. They resided there until my grandmother got tired of living with inlaws and demanded that my great grandfather build their own home or she was going to take my grandmother and move out. Not wanting to loose his immediate family, my great grandfather asked for some land from his father across the street and they worked together to build their house. This was the house that would house all of us during the holidays. But it was the older house that caught my attention and desires.

Since we had been able to walk and had been spending countless holidays at my great grandmothers together, we had been asked…or should I say told not to go near the old Hartman homestead across the street. The primary reason was simply for the fact of safety issues and reasons. The house was caving in and for some reason during that time period, houses were often built upon their source of water, often, and in this case, a giant well. After years of erosion and breaking down of wood, these houses would begin to sink into the wells that existed below them. This was so with the Hartman homestead. The whole backside of the home was slanting into the well that rested under the foundation of the home and the front of the house was ready to go at any time. No one really knew just how deep the well was because none of the living had been in existence when the house had been originally created. This was the primary reason we were not allowed to play in the house itself and were influenced not even to approach the surrounding barrier and land itself. I took this forbidding and information and got creative with it. I came up with my own reasoning why we were not allowed over there and shared it with my young gullible cousins. It was simple. The house was haunted!

Now, in all actuality, I did not really know anything about any sorts of hauntings at the location, but the home did meet at least two of the required necessities of a haunted location in the mind of a young child. One, it was run down and caving in. Two, no one was allowed to go near the location. They were given these instructions from adults. Thus something out of the norm had to be going on there. Quite possibly something paranormal.

I would take my cousins over to the ancient property and lead them around the perimeter of the house. Now, do not get me wrong. I was not putting them in any physical danger. You have to keep in mind the set up of my family. Everyone was raised by good people and everyone knew their boundaries. If the adults told you not to do something, you did not do it and there were no exceptions. But, if they told you not to do something but let some of specificity out, then you had a loop hole to do something about it. See, I had actually spent some time around the home before. I had been inside the location several times with my father and had even ventured into the attic with him. We would go in there sometimes and look at some of the remnants that were there from past times. My great, great grandparents belongings still graced some of the homestead. Papers, books, and even some of the clothing of my past ancestors hung in the rafters of the attic. I thought it was cool to sift through what was there and my dad would allow me to, only if he was with me. He took me into the area of the home that had been sinking into the well of the home several times alerting me to the possible hidden danger the property possessed. I knew the home was not something to mess with. After all, each of us has our limits. There are only certain things that we can humanly do, and looking at the dark abyss that lay underneath the caving in floor boards of the once dominant home, I knew better than to tempt fate itself. Thus I carried out similar precautions when taking my cousins on the little tours looking for the spirits that resided in the homes. And I never, NEVER took them into the house itself. I would even take the opportunity to stress to my cousins the importance of staying out of the building. Heck, I even thought I was doing my part by helping my adult relatives keep the kids away from the dangerous property. Realistically, why would any of them go into a home that was haunted, or they thought was haunted?

One of the best aspects of the home involved the piano that was left in the home. I never really understood why people from that time period left their belongings encrusted within their homestead and their families did nothing to preserve what was once theirs. But this tradition had been a part of both my great, great grandparents and great grandparents because there had been a perfectly good and useful piano that was within the house. My great grandmother even said that it worked up to the time that my great, great grandparents had passed away, but it had never been taken out. Over the years, weather and Mother Nature had not only taken its toll on the home, but the piano itself. The piano no longer played completely, but a few keys still remained functional.

It was this piano that you could actually see from one of the ancient broken windows. I would lead my cousins around the home and point to the visible piano telling and weaving a tale of a woman that would come to the piano late at night and fill the air with the solemn sounds of her spiritual music. They would eat up such a tale wide eyed and believing each and every minute. One time, I even had a little fate on my side to dominate and imbed the story within my cousins.

I had been taking them on the route of the old homestead and had stopped near the window as I usually did. I told my tale of the woman and then began to lead them around to the other side. As we were departing, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye within the window and near the piano itself. For a fraction of a second I was actually believing my own bull. But when I turned to investigate with a full on visual of the scene, I saw a cat perched upon the edge of the piano and looking to move across the keys. I held my breath. This would be it! An awesome event it would manifest into to have a cat run across the keys right at that moment. The cousins would then believe anything that I told them after that. After all, if the ghost of the piano was real, then anything I said would hold water after that in their eyes.

It was then that I knew I must aide the cat in his finding of the destiny that was his. I reached down quickly as not to draw attention to myself. I felt around quickly until I found a small rock. I then wrapped my fingers around it and threw the rock in the general direction of the cat. Now, never being one good at any sport whether it was baseball or basketball, I knew the chances of actually making contact with the furry beast was slim and none. But I was hoping to come close enough to him and frazzle him enough to where he would move across the keys of the piano. I was also hoping that in his blind daze and scattering, he would some how make contact with the few keys that actually still played somewhat. I closed my eyes and awaited the results as the rock flew through the air towards its destination.

The rock struck true! The cat did exactly what I was hoping he or she or it would do. The cat scrambled and actually darted across some of the keys that still held their music playing ability. I turned to look at my cousins. The face I was giving them at the time was one that was not faked. I really was feeling a sense of surprise. I guess the combination of both the look on my face and the sound of the mysterious keys playing as if a ghost had taken part in the event was too much for them to handle. They scattered like a group of cockroaches when you turn on the kitchen light late at night in the kitchen of the local Taco Bell. I laughed to myself as I joined them making a break for the street and heading back to the safety of their parents and the familiarity of great grandmother’s home. To this day the great piano caper still is one of my favorite brushes with the paranormal, even though the paranormal itself was man made.

I also remember my love of horror movies being a wonderful influence on my dabbling of seeking out the paranormal. I have loved horror movies since I have been able to stay up late at night and sneak to the television. One of the first horror movies I have ever seen came to me in this form.

I was some where around the age of a third or fourth grader. We lived in the small community of Oakland, Illinois. At the time, we had the ancient style of satellite, the big white spherical looking object that you had to go out and actually hand crank to pick up the actual stations. Cable was not even in existence at this time. You either had regular television channels via the old style metal antenna or you bough a satellite like my father did. He would run out and hand crank the satellite and mom would turn the television so she could see it from the window and she would hang half out the window and yell to dad when there was something visual on the screen. I remember when we first got the satellite, dad was cranking it around and the first ever visual came from outer space. Now at the time I found the event to be pretty cool, but now I consider it to possibly being what warped my sense of well being. The visual was Michael Jackson and his Thriller video!

Anyway, my sisters and I did not get to watch much television by choice. My father was pretty much the stereotypical male, the ruler of the house and the ruler of the remote. Even when he would leave for work, the satellite was still moved to the last station he was watching and none of us kids, and my mother for that matter, did not have the guts nor the knowledge to try and change the position of the satellite system. So as usual, we watched what dad had been watching, or we watched regular television.

However, my two sisters and I had discovered something neat and unique. We had a little tiny portable black and white television that my parents had purchased when they had gone out seeking a portable camper. They thought it would be good for the family to get out and do things more active and together as a family unit. Camping sounded like a good thing. My dad and mother had found a camper with little to no searching and they went out and bought a small black and white television to take along. Needless to say, we never camped any where but our own driveway and really never had a use for the tiny TV. Mom and Dad gave the television to us kids and they pretty much forgot about its existence. They had forgotten about it, but we kids had not. Though you could not get much on it from its tiny one metallic pole radio style antenna but Channel 8, we discovered a higher power that it held. If you turned it the right way, you could pick up interference and actually pick up some of the satellite channels from our own dish!

We experimented from time to time late at night. We would hide the television in my sister’s closet and then late at night when we knew our parents were either asleep or watching television within the confinements of their own room, I would sneak over to my sisters’ room and we would pull that television out and try to see what we could find.

Two things stand out from our glorious explorations. One was a little flick called “Young Doctors in Love”. This was an R rated classic filled with all sorts of things young minds are curious about, but have not yet visually experienced. The other was a flick entitled, “Bloody Beach”. My first real horror flick. A horror flick that I was not to be viewing for that matter. From this point my life was never the same again.

We all three had seen previews for weeks about the film called “Bloody Beach”. Apparently it took place in a small town around a large body of water. Vacationing individuals were showing up to stay in the area and then turning up dead, not just dead. Gruesome deaths. All of them were apparently being killed and slaughtered by something on or in the beach. There was even a classic moment on the preview that captured our childish minds. Two kids were running around the beach after the police had told them they should not be there. One of the proceeds to throw an object at one of the officers and laughs running away. You later find out through the horror of the policemen that the child has just thrown a man’s penis in the lap of the officer. Pretty sick huh? Well, we saw that preview and knew we just had to watch it.

We stayed up late one night and waited for our parents to go to sleep and then I snuck into my sisters’ room. We set up the old black and white television and sat down to view the film. Needless to say, we were not disappointed and we all three went to bed a little uneasy that night. To this day I have yet to find this film on video or DVD somewhere. I am very curious about how the film would affect me today. I am wondering if would even have close to the impact that it hand on my impressionable mind at the time. I highly doubt it since my imagination has been numbed a bit by all of the horror films I have exposed myself to and the also the fact that I myself have become a lover of the horror genre, the paranormal, and have even weaved a few written horror tales of my own as well. Needless to say, I am very curious with how this movie stands up. My answer probably has already been answered with the fact that the film is not available on DVD or VHS anywhere. It is like someone wants the viewing public to forget about this monstrosity of a film. But it was someone’s baby. Someone had to write the thing and come up with the story line. I just wish I could find it out there somewhere. Perhaps someday I will. Until then, “Bloody Beach” will still have to stay a part of my mind in the past. A visual of black and white brilliance.

I know that I have wandered off subject a bit, but it all comes full circle. You have to understand my love of the horror and supernatural genre to understand why I put my best friend through something that he did not like or care for. Matt hated anything dealing with fear. As I told you earlier, the whole haunted house concept scared the heck out of him. But he knew I desired the scary moments whether it was watching a scary film or putting ourselves into a scary situation seeking out the unexplained. Matt knew it was something that I enjoyed and if I enjoyed it, he knew I wanted to be a part of it. Thus he wanted to be a part of it as well.

After going to a few concerts together, Matt and I started to seek out other things to do. That was when we got into the concept and the seeking out of local urban legends. I remember him calling me one day and asking me, “Have you ever heard of the Seven Steps to Hell?”

Question

Three men jump off an overpass
One hits rock and the other glass
Last one grabs a rail and calls the other two fools
Tell me now which one are you?

MH

It's A Bird, It's A Plane...

It's the Fiery Gizzard and Nifty Gadget?

We were invaded by 5 different balloons landing on and directly around our property Friday evening. I guess there is an upside to no rain and the corn being out already.

The Fiery Gizzard is piloted by Jared Miller from Southeast IA and the Nifty Gadget is piloted by Chris Keefe from Oshkosh, WI.

We Are Going to Miss You Horshack!

Chapter 4: Lynryd Skynyrd

Chapter 4: Lynyrd Skynyrd

After spending the time with Matt at the ZZ Top concert, I knew that our friendship had become legit. We had been close during high school, but after graduation we had pretty much gone our separate ways. At that time, I thought it was just a friendship that had pretty much come and gone like my others before. But after I had lost him and then called him out of the blue and everything pretty much went back to normal, it was impressive and real, our friendship had gone through the test of time. It was then that I knew we were true friends.

After we had spent time together at that concert, I knew that I had some concert tickets for an upcoming concert as well, Lynyrd Skynyrd. As Matt took me home after ZZ Top, I took this time to ask him to go to the next concert as well.

“I had a good time tonight.” Matt said.

“Don’t expect some sort of kiss man.” I said. “Not after you had that full mouth of puke an hour ago.”

Matt punched me in the arm. “No, I am serious. I really had a good time. I appreciate you thinking of me when you needed someone to go with you. I have missed spending time with you.”

I was touched by his comment. I had felt the same way, but really did not know how to put it into the words without sounding a little strange. I was really glad that Matt decided to say it first. I really did not want to sound awkward. I really did not think he sounded awkward though. I was impressed by how he handled it.

“I am just messing with you Matt. I really had a good time too. I’m really sorry that we have sort of lost touch with it other. I meant to stay in touch.”

“I understand. It gets tough keeping in touch when you have so much else going on. I mean we each have our own lives to worry about. Sometimes it is tough to stay in touch and find time to make time for others. Nothing wrong with that. Do not even feel worried about that,” Matt responded.

“It was just cool to hang out again after all this time. It was just like old times. I did not feel we had to play catch up, it just felt like old times again.” I said.

Matt nodded. “I agree. We need to go ahead and stay in touch. Do things more often. You don’t understand how much I needed this night. It really has made me feel focused.”

I took this time to take the opportunity. Matt had said that he wanted to spend more time together. I thought this was a perfect chance and opportunity. “Hey, I have tickets to another concert in a couple of weeks. Would you like to go?”

Matt’s eyes lit up. “Really? Who?”

“Lynyrd Skynyrd.” I responded.

“Heck ya!” Matt yelled as he slapped my back, but he slapped me really hard. I was almost taken aback by the strength behind the force.

“Well, I’ll call you then and we will set things up.”

“Sounds great,” Matt said. I turned to get out of the car and Matt grabbed my arm. He looked at me. “Jeremy. Thanks so much. I really appreciate it.”

I tapped Matt on the arm. “I appreciate what you have done too.”

Weeks later, Matt and I were at it again, heading over to St. Louis for another concert. There was a change of location however as we were not returning to the Arena but now heading to Riverport Amphitheatre. The location was different, but the driver had not changed. Matt drove his truck again and we headed to our destination.

The excitement was there. We were excited to be heading to a different location and we were excited because it was just Matt and I. No tagalongs this time. Riverport was a different surrounding as well because it was outdoors. Our tickets were on the lawn, the open area of grass where people just sat and roamed freely. I had been to Riverport before on the grass, but that was for a Michael Bolton concert, and let me tell you, Michael Bolton is no Lynyrd Skynyrd.

I was anxious not only for the concert itself, but the whole atmosphere. I was also a little nervous about the crowd. Each concert had its own type of people involved. We had run into some crazy individuals before, but we had been isolated into individual arena type seating. Here, everyone in the lawn roamed freely as though they were cattle out in the untamed West. Also, Lynyrd Skynyrd just drew a different type of crowd. There was no telling what we were going to encounter, but I really was not that worried. I knew that Matt had my back and would never let anything happen to me. I was the same on his end even though I was not as big or as intimidating as he was.

When Matt and I parked in the parking lot and began to walk to the actual concert area, my anxiety grew. I had never seen so much leather in my entire life! People of all ages, sizes and races were walking in drones to the seating area of the concert. Almost ninety percent of those in the crowd were wearing some sort of leather type attire. Jackets, vests, chaps, hats, straps of all sizes were all throughout the crowd. This was a little unsettling, but I knew in the back of my mind that I should never judge a book by its cover.

My last family vacation came during the summer of my junior to senior year. We had headed out West and happened to stop through the area that had the largest Harley Davidson rally in the world, Sturgis. At the time, I knew little about such a rally, but all I knew was there were all sorts of Harley Davidsons and leather everywhere. My father at one time was a biker in a Harley gang when he was in high school, he felt right at home. My mother on the other hand, even though she dated my father during his Harley Davidson rebel years, was a little more uncomfortable. All of those around her reminded her of the evil hooligans that my father had once hung around and called his friends. My younger sister Angie and I were the only ones that decided to go on this family affair. My twin sister decided that she was too cool to go on a family vacation anymore. In my opinion, she never was really too cool at anything, but I loved her and still love her for who she is today.

Anyway, we went to all sorts of locations while we were trekking out West. The Badlands, Mount Rushmore, and even Deadwood were some of our historic stops. Everywhere we went there were bikers. Bikers galore! Both my dad and I were in heaven trying to take in every bit of scenery we could. My dad trying to capture some of the essence from his younger days and myself just wanting to be a part of something that cool. I felt as though I was a bit of a part of the group sporting my mullet of magnificence and acting like I was as tough as anyone else.

Well, I remember pulling into a hotel to stay the night. My dad had no reservations and had not realized that Sturgis was going on at the time. Finding a hotel in the area was pretty much going to be near impossible. But amazingly we did find one. The first hotel that we stopped at, dad went in to ask about available rooms and I tagged along with him. We were really trying to have some final father and son moments before I would go into my last year of high school. Dad was never that strong at such events, he really tried, but he just did not have that much of an approachable personality. After all, he was a cop and had a cop attitude and demeanor pretty much all the time. He was a bit intimidating as well and talked almost all of the time in his cop voice. The fact that he worked odd shifts did not help the development of our relationship either. He would work long days and then come home about the time us kids were thinking about sleeping or ourselves at work. Or he would work midnights and then come home to sleep most of the day away. So it was not easy to develop a relationship with him because of the fact he was gone quite a bit. But he was not gone out of choice. He was gone because he was working to support his wife and kids. I always and still do respect him for that dedication. He took a great deal of crap during his time as a police officer. It was not easy for him.

Anyway, we both went in together hanging out like the best of buds to check on available rooms. When dad approached the counter, no one was around so he had to ring a bell. He slapped down on the old style bell you would see in an old style café restaurant. A man moved from a back room and came to the front counter.

“Can I help you?” He asked.

Dad nodded. “I know this sounds like a stupid question and I pretty much know the answer before I even ask it, but do you have any rooms available?”

The man was trying his best not to break out in laughter. I could see my father’s face turning a bit shade of red. Again, taking one for the team, his family.

“Oh man, you must be from out of town.” The guy said shaking his head. “Did you happen to see those thousand or so motorcycles out there? Sturgis man. The biggest bike rally in the country. And you my friend have stumbled upon it. I have been booked solid since last year. Sorry, I do not have a thing left. And I am even sadder to say that you probably will not find anything within a fifty mile radius either. Were you planning on staying in the area any more?”

My dad nodded. He had planned on taking us to the Custer’s Last Stand battlefield the next day. Dad had always been a huge fan of the guy. The only thing I remembered about him was that he had made some huge mistake that not only killed him, but his men as well. Dad, however, thought the man was a military genius and had studied him for a long time. Seeing the place where this guy had lost his life in battle was one of the main reasons Dad had planned the trip. I could tell he was thinking about that when the man was talking to him. My father was growing more and more disappointed.

“Yeah. We were planning on it.”

The man then eyed my dad in a funny way. “You look really familiar.”

My dad nodded. “I hear that a great deal.” The truth was that he did hear that a lot. But mainly that was back home in the Southern Illinois area. Dad had appeared several times on television for the State Police and people would recognize him out in public. But we were out in Wyoming. It was pretty doubtful this guy had seen dad on the local Channel 3 news at ten.

“Where are you all from?”

“Near Mt. Vernon, Illinois. Just north of Carbondale.” No one ever knew where Mt. Vernon was unless you pointed out Carbondale or St. Louis in proportion to its location. Many people had been through there for gas and food unaware, but often they did not recall its geographic location.

The man looked at my dad is if he had just told him that dad thought the guy had two heads or something. “Did you say Mt. Vernon? Mt. Vernon, Illinois?”

My dad shook his head a little confused by where this all was going. “Yes.” He answered a little uneasy that he had found some sort of psycho freak in front of him that might kill him and then take his wife and children out into some desert region and then eat them. Okay, so I am taking this pretty far here, but I am keeping an eye on my word count and this excessive type of description is really helping me out right now.

“You did not happen to go to the high school there in town did you?”

“Yes.” My dad answered, again not sure if he was doing the right thing by revealing so much information to a complete stranger.

“What is your name?”

By now, dad realized it was not going to hurt anything by revealing his name to this crazy man. If he did prove to be crazy, my dad had one of his police issued guns in the red Ford Taurus out in the parking lot and he felt he could get to it in time if needed. “Charles Mays,” he answered bluntly. I thought I watched him glance at the door as he answered. Maybe he was checking and judging the distance to the door, then the car, then his gun. Maybe it was just my imagination. Yeah, it probably was just my imagination running wild.

“Charlie Mays!” The man said sticking out his hand. He proceeded to give my Dad his name as well, he ended up being some guy my dad went to high school with and they had not seen each other since they had graduated. I can not remember the guys name off the top of my head, but I do remember my dad recognizing him from then on. Luckily for us, luck was on our side and the guy, since he had a personal connection with my father’s past, always kept extra rooms available for such surprise occasions. He decided to go ahead and give us one of these rooms and for even half off what he was charging everyone else! My parents still to this day go and stay with this man when they travel out West. They are sort of cheapskates at heart.

So, I know you are wondering by now, just where in the heck are we going with this section of the story. How did we end up from a Lynyrd Skynyrd concert to a family vacation years earlier during the Sturgis rally? Well, here is the connection. That evening when we got settled into our hotel room, I decided to take a quick walk down to the corner of the hotel. I had seen a Mountain Dew soda machine down there and I was extremely thirsty. The only things my parents packed to drink were diet sodas and I really would rather drink my own urine than to voluntarily succumb to such torture of the taste buds.

I got my soda and was heading back to the hotel room when I noticed a group of bikers sitting in the parking lot of the hotel in lawn chairs and grilling some items on a small portable charcoal grill. My curiosity got the best of me and I walked over to strike up a casual conversation. These guys looked rough. Dirty men dressed all in leather, some studded. All had some sort of long type hair, piercings, and Harley memorabilia upon their persons. But as I talked with them, I found out that most of these individuals were just what they called weekend warriors. They were about as tough as my twin sister in reality. Most of them were doctors, lawyers, or held some other type of suit job. The leather clad outfits was an opportunity to step away from the common everyday norm they were a part of and live an alternative life style looking and feeling tough. I was feeling really at home with this group of people and they even offered to cook me an extra bratwurst when my mother’s voice came from the balcony above.

“Jeremy!” She yelled. “Get in here now!”

I told my new found friends goodbye and headed up stairs to the room. Once inside, my mother started ragging on me about hanging around with dangerous strangers. I did not have the heart to tell her that those dangerous strangers as she called them were really the pillars to modern society. I just let it go, chuckled, and went to lay on one of the beds with my Mountain Dew. Similar in case with the crowd at the Lynyrd Skynyrd concert. They were clad in leather, but most were not really the part, they were just playing the part.

So there we were, ready to take in the experience that was Lynyrd Skynryd. Matt and I made our way through the sea of leather towards the area that was the lawn. Picture this, what appears to be an area set aside for nice good wholesome picnicking, but take away the family style environment and add a bunch of cowhide, long hair, women with long arm pit hair, and a bunch of cigarette smoke. That is basically the scene that Matt and I set our eyes upon. Again, we were a little worried at first, but pumped full of adrenaline we were ready to experience what the whole concert scene had to offer.

The first overall way to survive a concert at Riverport, especially in a lawn setting, you have to pick the right spot. If you do not take the time to pick the right seating arrangement, then you pay for it in the long run. Most people head out into the lawn seeking out the Holy Grail of concert lawn spots. What this usually consists of is an area of grass that no one is sitting at. Though this seems like a good idea especially coming from an individual who has never experienced that which the great lawn can hold, it is truly one of the greatest mistakes that a concert goer can make. Though you pick an area that no one else is sitting at, it is guaranteed that every spot of green is going to be filled up by the time the opening act is over and the headliner hits the stage. Unless of course you are there to see some boy band like New Kids on the Block or Backstreet Boys, then you pretty much are safe for the rest of the evening and it is guaranteed that the only conversations and company that you will experience will be the bugs and crickets living in the grass around you. As Led Zeppelin once stated, “Ramble On” and I know that I am pretty much doing that right now so I am going to try and get back on track right now.

Back to the seating situation in the lawn area of a concert. Though finding an empty location early seems like a positive thing to do, one must consider the element that is not under their control, the jerks that are bound to sit next to them. Trust me, as long as there is air to breathe and concerts to attend there are going to be the jack monkey fans out there that are the most annoying people on the planet. In order to avoid such a catastrophe from wrecking your evening of entertainment, it is a good thing to seek out a spot of grass that already houses some concert goers. You want to seek out individuals that seem fun, but at the same time do not seem like they are going to cause you to leave the concert halfway through and go play in traffic within the lanes of the nearby interstate. Trust me, it will eventually happen and sometimes there just is not anything you can do about it. But if you can take control of the situation, do so. Empower yourself in any event possible.

Matt and I were not experienced enough to know this at the time. Having only really gone to a few concerts we did not understand the etiquette and the rules of the lawn and its domain. I had been to a few concerts like I stated earlier in this document with my girlfriend, Bryan Adams and Michael Bolton. But my first concert ever was Metallica and that pretty much gave me the experience that I needed. Matt on the other hand had not been to a real concert before the ZZ Top one that I had taken him to prior, unless you want to take into consideration the Oak Ridge Boys, but I do not so I do not expect you to. Anyway, I was a little more experienced in the concept of concert survival, but I was taught in the way of the arena style concert, not the open air lawn concert. Though I had experienced the world of the lawn during a Michael Bolton concert, Bolton and Skynyrd are night and day. I had a feeling that this concert was not going to have all in attendance sitting down the entire time swaying back and forth and hugging one another. It just was not going to happen. But Matt and I sought out our precious spot of green and found it. The very top of the lawn, the very center. Perfect view of the stage, the big screen videos, and everyone in attendance. We were in for a surprise.

Sitting down, we took in the atmosphere again. Everyone was beginning to file in and find their seats. I do recall that Skynyrd did not have an opening act that evening. They were there flying solo and we knew we were in for a treat. Soon, the sun was going down and everyone in the audience started to chant for Skynyrd, including ourselves. Before we knew it, the lights were down and they were taking the stage. It was awesome!

As far as the concert itself, it was pretty uneventful, but do not get me wrong, the music and the stage show was fabulous. But nothing of real story wide significance will be included here. It really comes from things that occurred away from the stage itself.

It is the golden rule that one waits to go to the bathroom when the performers decide to play some new song from their new album. This night was also such a case. Lynyrd Skynryd had just released a new album and they were wanting to devote some playing time to expose everyone to some of their new tracks. When we heard the famous lines, “Okay everyone, we would like to take this time and play you something from our new album that hits stores in a few days. It’s called (fill in appropriate song title here). We hope you like it!” Then you see the nomadic trips to the bathroom as half of the stadium completely files out. The other half waits patiently until the first half returns and then they too take a pee break. It is tradition for an act to do this. It was also tradition for Matt and I to make a break for it with the first crowd, neither one of us really having the largest bladders in the world. Mine I think was smaller. My family always use to joke that my twin sister and I were born splitting a whole bladder because neither one of us were known to be able to hold our urine. Matt and I got so good at sensing the bathroom set that we could beat everyone to the bathrooms. This time, however, we did not have that experience under our belts so we had to become part of the cow herd making our way to the bathroom.

Now here is one of our experiences that is very important and informative for you readers out there. If you ever go to a concert or you are planning to attend a concert you will need to head this advice. So pay attention to the following details.

Riverport. Great place but awful bathrooms. The main problem, the have the Piss Fan. Okay I know that some of you are saying right now, “What in the heck is a Piss Fan?” Well I am going to tell you. Primarily this just hits you male readers out there. I really can not tell you if a Piss Fan occurs in the women’s restroom. I really have not been able to check that out for myself. From other reports from females however, the Piss Fan is only part of the male gender’s restroom.

Urinals are lined on both sides of the restroom, usually about ten or fifteen on each side. At the end of each ten or fifteen, there is a huge fan mounted on the ceiling. Now, this item is really there for the circulation of fresh air. I understand that it is important to have such a device, after all, some restrooms can stink pretty badly after a while. They put these there thinking they are really helping everyone out. What they are not thinking about however is what the breeze does to the restroom itself.

Okay, simple physics here. The fan is pointing down at the floor and at the urinals themselves. Men are peeing into the urinals with strong streams of urine. There is a little space between the men and the urinals themselves. The breeze is hitting not one, but all streams of urine as it blows throughout the restroom trying to circulate some fresh air. Do you picture what I am getting at here? If not, check this out.

The fan is blowing the man’s urine next to the fan on the man next to him and then a combination of both on the next man and then a combination of all three on the next and so on and so on. Pretty disgusting right? Well, the side thing is the first time I experienced the famous Piss Fan, I was about halfway down the chain of command and honestly thought the moisture that I was experiencing was water coming from the fan. I thought it was one of those silly cooling fans like you see at Six Flags that all the kids jump through and act like idiots. Yeah, it wasn’t. It was a breeze of warm pee! Needless to say, after I found out what this was, I realized that the only way you could escape its grasp was to get to that first urinal first. Or, you had to use the porta potty outside. Or you could use the stall. But even the stall was not guaranteed a safe spot.

Later on in the concert after Matt and I had disgustingly realized the origin of the water spray in the restroom, we decided to become stall guys. We went around the corner to the side area that housed the stalls. Again, they were pretty much set up as five on each side. If you got there early you were lucky to get one, but as the night went on there really was no telling what kind of shape the stall was going to be in or how smelly it would be.

Matt and I sought out a stall during one of the pee session sets and they were all full. Matt walked up to one and tugged on the door to see if it was locked. Now, I know I was raised with pretty much normal people, but I thought everyone knew that when they went to the restroom in a public place, they should lock the door before they decided to do their business. Well, Matt being raised pretty much in the same area figured on the same concept. He gave the door a slight tug to investigate if it was locked. If it was occupied, the door would not open and he would move to the next one. If it opened slightly, then no one was inside and it was free to the next participant. Well, Matt gave the stall before him a slight tug and the door flew right open. Squatting on the toilet in front of him with his pants down to his knees was some Harley Biker dude with a Santa Claus beard. Matt quickly shut the door.

“Sorry man,” he said, his face turning red. “Did not know you were in there.”

“It’s okay.” The voice came muffled through the stall door. “There is room in here for you if you want.”

Matt looked at me. I looked at him. Suddenly the Piss Fan did not seem that bad after all. We both ran to the other side as quickly as possible.

Besides the bathroom capers, one incident that stands out actually happened out on the confinements of the lawn. Remember, we had staked out what we thought was the perfect lawn spot. No one had picked it when we showed up and we were dead center where we could see all action on all fronts. Well, by the time the concert had started, we had some odd guests accompanying us. We also did not take into consideration the big tented area at the top of the hill. When we had sat down before the concert had begun, it was empty. We did not think anything of it. Now, the tent had transformed and had become one of the largest attractions of the evening besides the music going on on stage. A beer tent! My advice right now to all of you readers out there, if you can avoid sitting, standing, or whatever it is you do at a concert, near a beer tent do so.

That evening, I believe we encountered everyone within the lawn area at that beer tent. I have never seen so much alcohol consumed in one location in my entire life. I guess Matt and I would have actually thought we had discovered the Holy Grail of lawn seats if we had been drinkers, but like I stated earlier, neither one of us really drank so it pretty much was more of a nuisance rather than a plus.

However, the people watching was fabulous. Besides using the new song sections of a concert for bathroom breaks, one can pass the monotony of a new crappy song by people watching. It is amazing what people will do or say at a concert event. Especially if they are filled to the brim with liquid courage or other illegal substances. Well, it appeared that evening that every other spectator in the area was filled on such items except for maybe Matt and I. Matt and I did stupid and silly things on our own power and on our own grounds. These people however outranked us in the abilities and extremes they were going through. Matt and I for a moment began to fear for our safety. Then we heard it. A chant was coming from over by the corner of the fence.

“Go! Go! Go!”

Matt looked at me and gave me the “What the heck?” look. I gave him the “Should we check it out?” look. He replied with the “What the heck.”look and we departed.

As we approached the fence, we had no clue what to expect. The crowd had become to accumulate and people were chanting at a ferocious pace. “Go! Go! Go!” We proceeded with caution as the fence grew closer. We both nuzzled our way in trying to find an opening in the ocean of bodies before us. Finally succeeding in finding an opening, I grabbed Matt by the shirt and pulled him to the fence with me. That is when we saw him. The poor guy.

Before us stood a man, or what appeared to have been a man at one time before he had become addicted to some sort of substance that had ate away most of his body. He weighed about 50 pounds wet and his hair was stringy and hung down to his waist. He was clad in a leather vest on top of a Lynyrd Skynyrd shirt that judging by the faded material and the fact it was as thin as a plastic sack from Wal-Mart, it had come from an original Skynyrd concert. The sad thing was the man was on the opposite side of the fence and he was making his way up the largest hill and incline I had ever seen in my life. Another sad thing is I think he actually thought he was on the right side of the fence, and everyone else was on the wrong side.

The whole thing was mystifying. I watched the man as he progressed up the hill, step by shaky step. Based on his steps, I could tell that he had succumb to some sort of alcohol or illegal substances before hand. There was no telling what this guy was actually seeing at the moment. All I knew was he was making his way up the side of the hill, reaching out for something. Then I saw where he was headed.

At the top of the hill right in front of the center of the chain link fence was a small sapling of a tree. My unnamed individual was reaching for this area, probably to sustain his journey and make sure that he did not tumble back down the hill. Suddenly I had ownership in this strange man and his quest. I wanted him to succeed. I needed him to succeed. I turned to Matt to say something, but I could tell he was caught up in the moment and the quest of the man as well. His eyes were upon the scraggly gentleman as well. Then I saw the words form on his lips as well as he resounded the chant that was filling the night air. Coming so loud and a part of the lifeforce of the crowd itself that it was actually beginning to drowned out the music and sounds emanating from the stage behind us. It seemed that everyone at the concert had begun to realize what was going on in our little area of the lawn seating. Everyone on the lawn that could make their way to the location of the man and his quest had moved to join in. We had all become one and were sending out our energy to help our fellow concert goer reach the young sapling.

“Go!” The crowed chanted.

“Go!” Matt added.

“Go!” I found myself screaming.

We all watched chanting as the man moved foot by foot, step by step. Suddenly I got the image of Frankenstein from the classic black and white films as he arose from the power of the lightning and began to walk stiffly for the first time. That was how this man was moving up the hill towards the tree. Both his arms were fully extended reaching out for the sapling. Closer and closer and grew to the destination. Ten feet. Five feet. Two feet.

“You can do it!” Someone screamed from the crowd behind us and we all cheered. Everyone, though now looking back it was pretty odd and stupid, was caught up in the moment and excitement. Go. Go. Go.

The man was in grasping distance. He reached out with his left hand for the tree. His fingers were close, but missed connecting with the thin wood and he tettered backward a little. He extended his arms out and flailed them wildly as he tried to regain his balance. For a moment I feared he would not be able to counter the force of gravity and I would have to stand and watch horrified as he rolled and plummeted to the bottom of the hill below. But the man definitely had some bent up intestinal fortitude and regained the balance that he had lost. He reached again for the tree, this time not making the mistake of just using one arm, he used both and outstretched them as a child would reaching for its mother searching for a bottle or breast during feeding time.

“Go!” Everyone continued to chant. A smile was forming on the guy’s mouth. He was actually enjoying this moment. His time to shine. His fifteen minutes of fame. He was drawing the energy from the crowd and harnessing as his own pushing himself towards the sapling. He stretched, reaching for his destination. He pushed for one last grasp at the golden tree. Suddenly he was there with connection. Everyone cheered in victory.

And just as everyone cheered in excitement, such everyone fell in silence. As the strange man made connection with the sapling, he must have put too much weight on the tree itself causing himself to loose his balance again. Instead of falling backwards, which I knew would lead to his certain demise, he fell forwards and landed on his face. Everyone fell silent. It reminded me of game five in the NLCS series of 2005 where the St. Louis Cardinals were on the verge of being eliminated by the Houston Astros. It was the top of the 9th and the Astros were one out away from sealing the fate of the Redbirds and heading to the World Series for the very first time. They had their dominant closer Lidge on the mound who had been responsible for pretty much shutting the Cards down throughout the season. Everyone was up and dancing in their seats. The plastic was up in the locker rooms and the champagne was chilled and ready to be popped open. But Albert Pujols did not think it was a good night for a celebration, Astro style anyway.

With two on, two out, and down to his last strike, Pujols awaited the pitch from Lidge. I was standing up in my bedroom, the only one still awake in my home. I was going to go down with my team, supporting them in the good times in the bad. I remember holding on to both my Cardinal rally band as well as the silver cross that hung around my neck. I prayed. The pitch was made. The Astro fans celebrated and then the ball came to the plate…

The rest is history. Pujols smacked the ball well over 400 feet sending the series back to St. Louis and sending the Cardinal fans such as myself into a frenzy! What I remember being the most satisfying thing about the moment was how the blast sent the erupting crowd into complete silence. Pujols was quoted as saying it was deafening one minute, and then the next it was so quiet that he could actually hear his footsteps as he rounded the bases. It was fabulous! Though the Cardinals did not fare much better when they got back home, getting defeated and sending the Astros to the World Series anyway, it still was one of the greatest Cardinal moments in my living history. And besides, the Astros were swept by the White Sox in the World Series anyway. Justice was served in my opinion.

Just like the Pujol’s blast, when our nomad missed the tree and fell on his face, the eruption of silence was just as deafening. Then, as if they had just turned the channel to their television sets, everyone turned around and returned their focus towards the concert forgetting about the drunk on the grass behind the fence. It was sort of sad. We had seemed to connect as one. Everyone seemed to have actually cared about the individual on that side of the fence and then just as quickly, they had abandoned him. I looked at the man. He did not budge. I really hoped he was alright. I remember approaching the fence and looked to see if I could tell if he was breathing or not. I remember seeing his chest rise up and down and became a little relieved. Then I noticed some security crew approaching up the hill from his side. That is when Matt and I let our contestant go and turned with the others to view the rest of the concert.

Not much else happened that evening. When Lynyrd Skynyrd came upon the stage to close out with a two hour version of “Free Bird”, Matt and I decided to head through the crowd and towards the parking lot. We started to leave towards the beginning of the song, but then soon realized that “Free Bird” itself was usually over ten minutes in length, that was usually on the radio or CD version. This was live. It was almost certain that the song would go on. And on. And on. And on. And it did.

As we walked through the crowd that night, I began to absorb the classic evening that we had the opportunity to be a part of. The evening itself was filled with all sorts of memorable moments, but it would not have been so impactful had Matt not been there with me. As we passed by other concert goers that evening on our way to Matt’s car, numerous individuals slapped us high fives as we progressed towards the exit. Looking back, this gives me some hope with the status of the world today. Though times sometimes appear bad and it looks like no one is truly getting along, you throw a group of people together with a primary goal and purpose, they come together as one. This evening held true for that concept for me. I was impressed by that evening at the time, but I am even more impressed stepping back and viewing the moment from another perspective with my eyes now. It was a great moment, not just for me and Matt, but I think for Mankind itself.

We made it to Matt’s truck and began our departure from Riverport that evening with “Free Bird” still booming in the background. Even though Matt and I had no clue what the eventual future held for us, we did know and understand that we had created a good solid foundation of memories just from the two concerts we had attended. We also knew that IHOP called our name and we were heeding its call.

TOTD

SOTD - Backwater

It's a way back weekend:



And when I wake up in the morning...MH

Chapter 3: ZZ Top and IHOP

Chapter 3: ZZ Top and IHOP

High school had always been good to the both of us. Though we could have controlled the entire campus (what is there anyway), Matt and I decided to take things slow and let things develop and happen. We enjoyed each other and each other’s company. But it was not until after we graduated and headed our separate ways did JMH truly form into what it was going to become. The future was still out there. Life was ready for exploring…and we were ready to explore it with open arms.

Life is sometimes funny. Growing up during high school, you think you have everything figured out. You know it all and are sure of your life and what direction you are headed. Then you graduate, head out into the real world, and everything that you had thought was easy going is suddenly pulled out from underneath you and you feel as if you have just left your mother’s womb in the originality of your rebirth. Deep huh?

This is pretty much how my life started after high school. I went my separate way, while Matt went his. We stayed in touch for awhile, but as we both started college, things got a little tough and time got a little slim. We did meet up at McDonalds late at night after I got off work, but those meetings got less and less as Matt was transferred to the Centralia store because they needed a manager up there and Matt was going to school at Kaskaskia College, just up the street from the store he was working at. Both of us also were involved with our girlfriends at the time and both dealing with long distance relationships. Karen going to Cape Girardeau for school and my girlfriend at the time, Kim, was going off to Greenville College. I had started classes at Rend Lake College pursuing a degree in English with possible ideas for teaching. Matt was seeking out a degree in nursing interested in the lines of physical therapy. He was also very active in politics wanting to be more involved with local government.

It was during this time that Matt and I parted ways for a great deal of time. It had almost been a year and a half since we had gotten together to do any major activity. Sometimes it takes a horrible drastic event to pull people back together.

My girlfriend broke up with me. At the time I thought it was the end of the world. But that topic is not what this story is about. It is about how such a negative incident brought about a wonderful positive. I had purchased some concert tickets for that summer for my girlfriend and I to attend. We had gone to some concerts during our time together, mostly ones that she had picked out and wanted to go to. Michael Bolton and Bryan Adams are just to name a few. Anyway, I had decided that I had bowed to her tastes enough and had purchased some tickets to some of my styles of music. Expand her horizon a bit. Well, she broke up with me leaving me with pairs of tickets to numerous concerts. My first one was coming up quick…ZZ Top.

I had no one to go with. Besides not having that many people that I would even think about taking, I was pretty devastated by the fact that my girlfriend had dropped the hammer on me. Only one name came in mind. I picked up the phone and gave Matt a call.

“Hey what’s going on?” I started the conversation. Some people in order to keep a relationship going need to see an individual on a daily basis or at least speak with them every other day. With Matt and I, it was not that case. We could go days, weeks, even years without talking, then out of the blue pick up the phone and pick up where we left off. That is what was so wonderful about our friendship, it was that strong. This time was just proof of that statement.

After a few minutes of some casual conversation, I got to asking the question that mattered. “Hey, what are you doing next Saturday?”

“Working. Why?”

“Well, I have tickets to ZZ Top and an extra ticket. I was needing someone to go with and I was wondering if you would like to go. But since you have to work, I guess I’ll have to go ahead and find someone to sell the tickets to.”

“Wait a minute.” Matt definitely sounded interested. “I can pull a few strings and get the day off. How much do I owe you for the ticket?”

“Nothing. If you go with me you do not have to pay me anything for it. I just want to be able to go with someone that I know I will have a good time with. I am just glad that I could put the ticket to good use.”

“Alright. Call me later and then we will set up how we are going to get there.”

Thus the seeds for the development of JMH were sown. The sad thing, we were not going alone. When I had ordered tickets, several people that I worked with wanted to go as well so I was the middle man in ordering the tickets for everyone. I was one of the only people that possessed a credit card so I was just the easiest one to accomplish such a task. First, Brandon Petersen and his girlfriend were part of the group. Brandon was a short individual that pretty much laughed at anything. His laugh was one of the most original laughs you have ever heard in your life. It was sort of a mixture of Roscoe from the Dukes of Hazzard and a snorting pig laugh. It was enough to drive you crazy if you were around it long enough. As far as others that went, I know there were more, but those are the two individuals that stood out for me. The others, I am not sure exactly who they were. So many different people came to so many different concerts with Matt and I that summer.

I remember arriving to the concert. Matt drove his old black Ford Ranger because at the time I was not comfortable driving in down town St. Louis. Don’t get me wrong, I had done it before and quite well if I must say. But I was just not comfortable with all of those crazy people weaving in and out of traffic like I was standing still. I had already had four traffic tickets for speeding and was on court supervision in the three surrounding counties of where I lived. I had also been involved in three accidents, all of them pretty much being my fault.

The first I pulled out in front of a vehicle and he side swiped me. I still swear to this day that he was not there one minute and there the next. My fault though. I was ticketed and lost my good old 1986 Plymouth Duster for a good few months.

The second accident happened almost a few days after I got my Duster back. My girlfriend’s father had fixed my vehicle and it was so well done that you could not even tell that any damage had been done. I was driving on my way back from work when a dark blur shot towards my car from the corner of my eye. I hit my brakes the quickest that I could, but it was not fast enough. I hit it. Southern Illinois number one enemy to drivers besides those teenage drivers fresh from getting their license. Deer! It rolled off my hood and then sprinted into the field adjacent to the road. I stopped my car and looked at the damage. Sure enough, there was a huge dent in my beautiful new hood and some fresh deer hair imbedded in the fresh yellow paint job. I cursed the deer hoping he would come back for a rematch. He did not show.

The final accident involved me rear ending a car on the main drag in Mt. Vernon. I was hanging with a friend of mine Chris Edwards because Matt was going through his Karen only phase. We were heading to the St. Clair Shopping Mall so I could buy a new pair of cowboy boots when I noticed a car pull up next to me. I looked over to see my cousin Julie in the car. I waved at her and pointed out to Chris that my cousin was next to him. He nodded really thrilled about the information and then noted that the light was green. Without really paying attention to what was going on, I hit the gas hard instead of lightly and rammed into the car in front of me. It was an old tank of a truck and my small compact car completely slid under its tailgate causing my hood to crunch up into the air like an accordion. I jumped out furiously! Even though I really new it was my fault, I was yelling at the guy in front of me asking why the hell he hadn’t moved quicker. Chris tried to calm me down and we moved both vehicles off the road into the mall parking lot. I continued to curse and scream even as a Mt. Vernon police officer pulled up and began to take statements from the other driver and myself. Even though it was my fault, no damage was done to the tank of the vehicle I hit, so he did not issue any tickets. It was a miracle I was not hauled into jail for some of the words coming out of my mouth!

So that was why I did not like to drive in stressful situations if I could help it. Matt always volunteered to drive and he had insisted on it this time since I was not making him pay for the ticket. So there we were sitting in the parking lot waiting for the others to show so I could give them their tickets in order for them to gain access to the show. The billboard lit up the parking lot showing who was playing. “ZZ Top with Cry of Love.” ZZ Top had always been a favorite band of mine and Cry of Love had just released a couple of cool songs on the radio. It was destined to be a great show. That’s when our company pulled up. Like I said earlier, the only real person I remember going was Brandon and his girlfriend.

“Hey guys!” Brandon said coming up to Matt’s window chuckling in his annoying chuckle. “Are you guys pumped for the concert?”

Matt and I looked at each other. “You bet.” Matt said smiling.

Brandon then looked at the lit up billboard behind him. He read it out loud. “ZZ Top and City of Love! Whoooo! Here we come!”

City of Love? Matt and I did not have the heart to correct him. We just laughed at our own inside joke. To this day we still say that phrase out of the blue and laugh at it. People who are around us look are completely confused, but that is okay. Most of the time no one gets our jokes but us. And we love them!

“Let’s go.” I told Matt as we got out and went to hand out the tickets to everyone. Our seats were all together so we were forced to sit with everyone else. It really wasn’t that bad and ZZ Top put on an incredible show. I must admit, if you get a chance to see these guys in concert, do so. They have some wonderful special effects that will leave you puzzled and asking “How did they do that?” It was half music concert, half magic show. Definitely one of the best concerts I have ever been to, but sadly, I have never gotten the opportunity to see them again.

After the show, Matt and I were walking through the parking lot towards his truck. Brandon was behind us. As we got close to the break off area where he would go to his vehicle and we would go to ours, he yelled for us to come over. Matt and I looked at each other and shrugged our shoulders. We approached him with a little caution.

“Awesome concert.” Brandon said.

“Yeah, pretty good.” I responded wondering if Brandon was expecting a kiss good night or something.

“Thanks for getting the tickets Jeremy. This is one night that I am not going to forget the rest of my life.”

I smiled. It was good to spread some goodness in the world. “No problem Brandon. Maybe we will go to another concert sometime,” little did I know that in the near future we would all venture out to another musical event and Brandon would stand out more than anyone else.

“Thought I’d give an option to repay you before we split up.” Brandon said reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a small object and dropped it into the palm of his hand. He held it out for us to get a closer look. It was not what I expected my no means. It was the butt end to a joint!

“Uh…” Matt started to say not sure where this was going. Luckily Brandon took charge of the moment and stepped in.

“It is a join man!” He said in a corny Cheech and Chong impersonation. “I found it under the seats in front of us after the lights came back on. Would you guys like to have it?” I looked to Matt not knowing whether to laugh, cry, or simply run.

“No thanks man.” Matt said reaching out and physically closing the palm of Brandon’s hand. “You go ahead and keep it. You earned it.”

Brandon’s face lit up as though he had just won the lottery or something. “Thanks guys. You are the greatest!” With that, Brandon bounded away with his girlfriend, I am sure complaining about some aspect of the evening. I looked to Matt who was shaking his head in disbelief.

“What the heck was that?”

“Not sure.” I answered. “But I sure am glad I listened to those Just Say No speeches in grade school. Came in real handy tonight.”

Matt laughed. “Heck, all they need to do to lower the consumption of weed is to put Brandon on one of those posters that shows ‘This is your kid on drugs’. That would definitely take care of the problem.”

Matt and I left the parking lot of the concert that evening on a natural high. Both of us had gotten through high school using no illegal substances, not even smoking, or even drinking an alcoholic beverage. Not that we did not have the opportunities before us. Several of our acquaintances we had encounter during our high school years and early college years were users of all sorts of things. We just never fell into that category. Matt and I simply just got a natural high on enjoying life and having fun with what was going on around us. It was better to take home memories to remember, rather than take home a hangover for the next morning. Matt’s mom had often complemented us on our wise choices. She stated several times that she was glad Matt and I hung out together. Even though we were often out to the wee hours of the morning, she never had to worry about us out doing something stupid, illegal, or something that would get us arrested or killed. I am proud of the way we grew up and handled ourselves in these types of situations. To this day I brag whenever I can that I have never abused any such substance and never smoked anything, not even a cigarette. My high school students think it sounds crazy and unbelievable, but I tell them it is true. The only high you truly need is the high of life. And that is something that you never can run out of.

Matt and I headed to the interstate and back over into our homeland of Illinois. Coming up to St. Clair, we decided it was a good idea to pull over and get something to eat. Being around midnight even on a Saturday, there was not much open. We spotted an IHOP, International House of Pancakes, in the distance and knew they were open twenty four hours. We headed for the parking lot, parked his truck, and went inside to grub.

I remember sitting down and looking at the menu, not being able to make up my mind what direction to go. Should I have dinner style food or should I go all out and try some breakfast? I looked at Matt and he seemed to be having similar difficulties in selecting from his menu. We decided together, why fight it and have to pick. Wasn’t that being racist against a certain breed of food? We definitely did not want to be part of any segregational activities. We decided to order some food from both menus!

I remember ordering some sort of breakfast platter with pancakes, eggs, and sausage. Matt ordered the same and then got some side plate of spaghetti. I order an appetizer sampler filled with things such as jalapeño poppers and cheese sticks. Matt got upset and asked if he could have some of mine and I said he could. We topped it off with some drinks. I ordered a Coke while Matt ordered a Coke and a chocolate milk. The chocolate milk had to be brought out immediately before the food. The waitress came out with our drinks and Matt chugged the milk in a few gulps. This was a tradition for Matt in the years to come. Chocolate milk first. Then the meal with Coke.

We grubbed that night, we grubbed like we never grubbed before. It was fabulous too! I wonder to this day why the food was so great. Every time Matt and I stopped at that IHOP to try and recreate the goodness, we were never able to come close to the event. Was it the fact that JMH was just beginning and the excitement of the future was in the air? Or could it have been something else? Who knows, who really cares.

We ate until we were about to explode ending with the phrase we repeated numerous times later, “We’ll, I am pleasantly ill.” I remember looking at the graveyard of plates before us thinking how in the heck we ate all of it. And why in the heck we ate all of it. I think others in the restaurant were thinking the same thing, especially our waitress who kept glaring at us wide eyed in disbelief.

Completely full from gorging ourselves, Matt and I asked for our check. Our waitress kindly brought it over still giving us a strange look. We both thanked her, left a tip, and the got up to go to the front counter to pay for our meal. When we got there, several workers were gathered around the counter staring and pointing at the phone. Matt and I stood there for a moment waiting for someone to help us out. Finally, after a few minutes of nothing happening, Matt cleared his voice as a signal and the three ladies looked up.

“I am sorry.” One lady said reaching across the counter and taking both of our tickets. “How was everything?”

“Good.” Matt and I both said in unison.

Before the worker could make change, the telephone next to the counter rang. All three of the ladies jumped as if a snake had just hissed from the corner of the counter. One even let out a little scream as her hand went to her mouth. Matt and I were a little confused about what was going on. All three of the ladies just watched the phone, let it ring, and then waited until it stopped totally before any conversation started back up again.

“I wonder if that was HIM again?” One lady said. It was her stress on the word HIM that got my attention. Just what was going on here?

“Excuse me.” I said leaning over the counter, my curiosity getting the best of me. “Who is HIM?”

“We have been getting prank called all night.” One lady said abruptly. “I am the manager here and the only ones working this late are us three. The calls started just after the last guy cook left. We are all pretty freaked out!”

Matt looked at me and smiled. We were here now. Ready to play hero to a few damsels in distress. Two of them were pretty plain looking, but one of the waitresses was pretty hot. Since I did not have a girlfriend now, I was on the open market. I was going to step up and do my part to help out my fellow man, uh I mean woman.

“We can help you out,” I said trying to sound all brave and stuff. “The next time the phone rings, let me answer it. I’ll talk to him.”

The cute waitress looked at me and smiled. “You would really do that?”

For you of course, I thought about saying that. That would have been the cool thing to say all suave, but I was never really one for being smooth with the ladies. The only thing that came out of my mouth was a two syllable response. “Uh huh.”

As if on cue, the phone rang then. Matt tapped me on the shoulder as if in support. I looked at the manager who was nodding her head as if giving me her permission to pick up the phone. I grabbed the receiver and put it to my ear slowly not really sure what to expect.

“Hello?” I spoke clearly and softly.

Now, from here I do not remember the actual conversation that took place. Mind you that the actual event itself did take place over ten years ago. What I do remember is the basics that transpired during the conversation. Simple displays of heavy breathing and many obscene words were uttered to me over the phone. I even remember the guy telling me that he was going to do something really perverted to me, but I can not recall exactly what it was. I am not sure if this is from the fact that it has been over ten years or maybe I subliminally blocked it out because it was just too devastating of an experience for me to log away. Anyway, the gentleman on the other end of the line continued to go at it on the phone until I said hello. At that point he realized that he was not talking to one of the females on the other end, but a man. At this point he hung up rather quickly. I smiled and set the phone down.

“He hung up,” I announced. Everyone laughed. Then the phone rang again. I picked it up. Same thing. More heavy breathing. This was when I decided to try and put the fear of God into the individual on the other end of the line. I remember saying something about the phone call being traced and that the police would be at the location within a matter of minutes. With that the caller hung up once again. I placed the phone back on the cradle and announced the victory.

“Thank you very much.” One of the workers said. I could tell from the warmth on my face that I was blushing.

“Don’t mention it,” I said as I looked down at Matt and my check. Some part of me was hoping that they would be generous enough to go ahead and put our meal on the house. But the manager quickly grabbed the checks and totaled up our bills.

From there I remember paying and then walking out of the restaurant. I remember feeling a bit let down about the whole free food concept, but also remember riding on a simple high knowing that I rescued some damsels in distress. Going to the truck, Matt was patting me on the back telling me that the moment was classic. I was looking down as we walked towards his vehicle and we were passing a huge blue BFI dumpster. That’s when I saw it.

Sitting on the pavement in a puddle of what appeared to be vehicle oil was an onion ring. The ring was half gone and the remnants of what was there were tattered and blackened in color. Now normally this would not have been such a big deal and you the reader are probably asking what in the heck am I including a tale of an onion ring in a parking lot in the story of how my best friend and I came to rule the world? Am I right? Well, this was not just an ordinary onion ring. This was the onion ring that led to the incident that led to the development of one of JHM’s greatest moments and achievements…the spin hurl.

Let us back track for a few moments because I am getting ahead of myself. We all have certain skills that God has given us or we have developed through years of study and practice. Some of us can play a musical instrument. For some of us it is a sport. While still for some of us it is simply just being an all around good human being. Well Matt had a special gift that I had never seen anyone else able to do, nor do I think I ever will experience someone with such a talent again. Matt could throw up on cue.

Now again, some of you are out there either thinking one of two things. One, that is not a talent! Anyone can do that! Well, have you tried it? Go ahead, I’ll wait a few minutes before I continue writing here to let you attempt this great feat………..More time, okay………Well did you accomplish the goal? I bet you did if you stuck something down your throat and hit that gag reflex we all have. Well, that is cheating. Matt could throw up just on thought and thought alone. Try out them apples!

Secondly, some of you may be thinking, that is not a talent, that is gross! Again, I agree with the fact that it is pretty disgusting and this feeling of disgust never truly leaves no matter how many times you experience such greatness, but it is a talent. I have never seen anyone else who can do what Matt does. If you ever do meet someone with a similar ability, call me and maybe we can sell tickets to some sort of puke off event. Heck, maybe ESPN 2 would host the event on late night cable some time. They have done worse you know!

Well, this event was the origin of what Matt and I called the spin hurl. It was not known to me before this time that Matt had the talent of spontaneous spewing. But this moment was not spontaneous, it was natural. I called Matt’s attention to the onion ring.

“Hey.” I called out to him pointing out the onion ring on the pavement before us. “I’ll split that with you.”

Matt heard me and turned to get a glimpse of what I was talking about. His eyes met the sight of the onion ring and that’s when his eyes bulged a bit. I heard him gagged a little and I focused on him more. I naturally thought he was joking around with me, but then out came the puke. Within seconds, all of the items that had taken us over a course of at least an hour came out of his mouth and hit the pavement. As he was throwing up, Matt tried to be a great friend and turn away from me to avoid allowing ame the sight at that moment. He turned too late and the vomit turned and flew out with his change of position. As he spun, the vomit spun too. I remember that the worst of it really was not the view of the puke itself, but the sickening splatter sound the vomit made as it hit the asphalt pavement. I almost threw up at the sound of it.

Matt sort of chuckled as he spit the rest of the vomit from his mouth and wiped the remnants that had fallen onto his chin on his sleeve. He looked at me shaking his head. “That was disgusting man! Why and the heck did you do that?”

I was not really sure. I just thought the comment I was making had a little bit of comedic side to it. “Sorry. I just wanted to make you laugh.” Matt waved to me as he approached his truck.

I walked behind him sort of feeling bad about the moment. Sometimes in the heat of the moment, jokes become spontaneous and they often seem good at the time. But when they actually come out and someone reacts differently than what is expected, you start to feel a bit guilty. This was one of those moments. I pretty much felt like crap. I did not know whether to just drop it completely or apologize. The night had gone so well that I felt I needed to take time to apologize for setting up Matt. After all, throwing up can not be that pleasant. I did not understand that Matt specialized in such a moment.

I approached from behind Matt and walked over to the passenger door. He was unlocking his door and I was waiting patiently to be let in. That is when he called out to me.

“Jeremy.” He yelled out. I looked up. Matt proceeded to open his mouth and flap it open and closed. That’s when I saw that his mouth was filled with vomit. A gritty, grimy green color was overflowing from his mouth onto his chin. He was smiling a bit.

“That is sick man!” I screamed at him.

“Exactly!” he chuckled. It was exactly the effect he was looking for. I suddenly lost the feeling of regret for calling his attention to the onion ring. I then knew his crazy connection and love for grossing someone out with a quick spontaneous spew.

The legend of the spin hurl had become part of JMH history.

MH Meets the M&M's

Last week, Matt had the opportunity to sit down with the triplets one on one...Well, one on THREE actually!

Matt and MaKartny

Matt and MaLenna

Matt and Mason

Matt and Mason

That Man Can Dance!

Welcome to Cavo

Safe here in the light...MH

Sweet Ride

The things you see...just wondering, what do you think the top speed is on that thing?

MH

JMH Gets Its Wings

Who needs Red Bull?