BLONDIE

Embarrassingly, its been nearly 9 months since I have posted anything on this site. Many of you have asked in passing, if I've been writing lately. I've always managed to come up with one lame excuse after another as to why I've been neglecting my readers. It would be easy for me to say that sometimes life happens, that I just haven't had the time. That would be complete bullshit, of course. I used to make plenty of time in the past to compose a bunch of senseless, witty, remarks for your entertainment purposes, didn't I?

I've been nothing short of lazy, as well as uninspired lately, for some reason. I gave up on something that I had once shown a passion for. Writing. Although I've always looked forward to your comments and reactions to the absurd stories and tales that I have spun here, on Boozer's Blog, I was never doing it for any praise. Don't get me wrong, it has always felt great when I get positive responses from my posts. But in my heart, it has always been, and I hope, will continue being about an artistic release.

I've actually outlined and drafted countless pieces since last year, but none of them ever came to fruition. As I've said in the past, it's been easy for me to get out of writing shape. I have no delusions of being some budding author, I just truly enjoy sharing my opinions and sarcasm with you. But it certainly takes much more practice and dedication than I have been able to show in the recent past. I hope that changes tonight.

So what's been going on in Boozer's life since my last post, late in the Spring of 2011? Many things of course. I officiated my 1st, and possibly my last wedding as an ordained minister. It was one of the single most memorable moments of my life, as I'm sure it was for the bride and groom too. It was also quite possibly the single most terrifying moment of my life. Don't get me wrong, marrying Justin and Sheena Hall was something I am very proud to have said I have done. But conquering a life long fear of public speaking is probably not something you should do by marrying your friends in front of 175 people. I was absolutely crapping my pants through the entire ceremony. I was littered with more compliments for my duty following the service than I would have ever imagined, from friends and strangers alike. But if I was a match stick I would have been better served being dropped in a fire place.

Let's see, what else? Oh, yeah. I became a wanna be "tour rat" for a Celtic Rock band called Enter the Haggis, who I'm actually listening to now as I write. They're an Irish band from Toronto who are currently making quite a name for themselves both locally, as well as globally. As many of you know, I am a member of the Ancient Order of Hibernians here in Oswego, NY. Its a charitable Irish organization that I joined 2 years ago. It was at the AOH that I met the members of this band, and have since had the pleasure of seeing a number of times since their performance in Oswego. I look very forward to their return to our club this Fall for our annual half way to St Patty's Day party. And I encourage all of you in the area reading this to come out and join in that celebration. OK, enough of the shameless plugs and free advertising for that event this September. Tim Kirwan put me up to that.

What else? I've also continued on with my dream of pursuing my class A skydiving license. I did a few more jumps last Summer, obviously successfully. In a few short weeks I will be traveling to New Hampshire. I am going to a wind tunnel to practice air maneuvers with my teachers, as well as my fellow students. Who knows what my future holds with regards to me attaining my license. It's going to be a long, tough, road. As much as I annoy many of you in person with my conversations about jumping, it's obviously something I love. I might never make it through the whole program, but I can always live with that failure, as long as I try.

There. I think that's enough of a recap into the last 9 months of my life. I guess that was more for the readers whom I don't see or talk to on a regular basis. Many of you might be asking, "Why today? Why is he all of a sudden writing again today?" Well you're about to find out.

I've been know to bend the truth on this blog in the past. If for no other reason, sometimes the truth can be boring. However, what I'm about to share with you actually happened to me at work today at Greene's Ale House, and I've got witnesses.

What started out as a typical day of work, if there is such a thing as typical in the bar business, got very interesting right before I turned the lights on for business. I peered out into the parking lot to witness what seemed to be a very confused driver. She undoubtedly was an out of towner in my opinion, or at least not a regular patron at Greene's. She and her passenger kept circling the parking lot like sharks in the water. The two of them kept gazing through the windows, looking for some sign of life that the bar was open. I would have thought that the empty parking lot, as well as the absence of any lights on would have been the social cue that they were looking for, that perhaps the establishment wasn't open for business. Not so much.

When they finally decided on about their fifth parking spot to dock their ship, this mother-daughter duo began to approach the bar, somewhat reluctantly. They of course entered and I politely shuffled them over to a booth, telling them it would be a few minutes until we were serving. As it turned out, I could have gone back to their table next week and they likely would have still been confused with the art of dining out. And I'm not even exaggerating when I say the drama that would ensue shortly there after was still even beyond my belief at this point.

I eventually turned on that charm of mine and enthusiastically meandered over to their table. Luckily there were no other patrons, as it took them nearly four minutes to order 10 garlic-parmesan wings, an iced tea, and a glass of water with no ice. I could tell already that my retirement just moved up by at least on shift with the cash I was sure to rake in off this fare.

I barely made it back to the bar when the mother came up and asked me if there was a pharmacy in the area. I directed her down the street to Kinney's Drug Store. She left shortly there after and things started to make some sort of sense, or so I thought. They must have just come from the doctor's office and her teen-aged daughter was certainly under the weather.

Not to long after the mom left, I brought the wings to their table. The girl seemed a bit sluggish, as she didn't even touch the food. A minute later she asked for directions to the rest room, and she went in that direction in a real hurry. All of a sudden things started to fall into place. Teenage girl gets knocked up. Mom takes her to the "box doctor". Little Miss Prego gets one whiff of the wings and has to go toss her cookies. Am I right or what? As it turned out I couldn't have been further off.

The mom returned, as if by cue and began desperately searching for her daughter. I sent her in the direction of the hopper and thought nothing more of it at that point. The next thing I heard was the mother yelling "Excuse me, excuse me!!" from around the corner. As I walked toward the end of the bar the mother piled the daughter into a stool at the bar and said "She's fainting!" Being the caring individual that you all know I am, I offered assistance immediately, suggesting that I could call for paramedics. Not only did the mother say no, she went on to tell me that her daughter was suffering from PMS!!!

Are you fucking kidding me!! This little princess is carrying on like she's on her death bed and her mother is telling me her little girl is suffering from her period!! I can't even begin to describe the look on my face. I again sarcastically asked if she needed an ambulance. The mother stood there rubbing her "unconscious" daughter's neck and said no, this happens to her every month! It was about then that the little drama queen managed to make it back to her feet and stumble back to their table under the assistance of Mommy Dearest. Of course, they stopped half way to the table to "rest" against the wall. Give me a fucking break.

Shortly after the Tampax Queen was piled back into their booth, with her feet elevated at her mother's request, real patrons began to be seated at the bar. Of course they began to inquire about the theater department that the dining room had become. And in an elevated voice I made it loud and clear that the Queen of the Junior Prom was on the rag.

With my patience tested at that point I offered a to go container for the wings and brought them their bill. The mother paid by credit card, and I swear to you I am not making this up. For legal reasons I cannot reveal her last name, but her first name was BLONDIE!!! I shit you not, that was the name on her credit card.

I figured that they would be on their way at that point. However, the mom informed me that they had more time to kill because they would be headed out to the campus at Oswego State for her daughter's college visit. At this point I was virtually fed up with the whole situation and I had a decent crowd forming at the bar for lunch. Just when I thought it was over, the mother frantically came to the bar and instructed me that the "patient" needed two slices of bread.

What in the hell is bread going to do to help this situation? I became convinced that I had been cast in a terrible after school movie special about the risks of teen pregnancy. But I thought, fuck it, I'll play along, and I forked over a couple of slices of rye bread.

About twenty minutes later, probably just before it was time for their appointment on campus, the little princess made a remarkable recovery and sat up. She took a couple of swigs off of her water, with no ice cubes by the way, and managed to walk right out to the car with her mother. At that point I put my faith in the drama department at Oswego State that they would recognize this little bitch was no Molly Ringwald, and they will deny her admittance to the university.

I have truly seen some pretty strange things happen at Greene's Ale House in the decade and a half that I've been employed there. Never in a million years could I have expected to witness that today. If anything good came out of this experience I'd have to say that it inspired me to write again. I'm sure this isn't even close to my best work, but I couldn't resist sharing that act of shenanigans.

The Sky Is The Limit

In the Summer of 2010, I found a new passion that I hope will last a lifetime. After turning down an opportunity to jump out of a plane a decade before, I had regretted it ever since, yet did nothing about it. Then, last June I overheard my friend Jerry talking to another patron at Greene's Ale House about a skydiving expedition. He said that they had someone drop out of their group and that they were seeking another. As if someone had taken over my 'inner voice of reason' I heard my self blurt out:

"I'll do it!"

Jerry looked behind the bar at me and asked if I was sure. He said he was going to place a phone call to make sure none of the others had found a replacement yet. I said go ahead, I'm in. Low and behold I got the spot. After many weeks of patient anticipation due to a rain out of our first appointment, we traveled to Ovid Airport and jumped. By the time my toes reached the ground I knew I was hooked.

Upon watching the video of my jump with my Father, he told me he wanted to go too. I said that's great Dad, but I don't think you fit the profile, so to speak. He was over the required weight limit. I'm glad to say that lit a fire under him, and with extreme determination he lost over 70 pounds!

Earlier this Spring I received an e-mail from my Step-Mother, Donna, about a hundred dollar discount from something called Groupon, if you jumped at the Whitford Airport in Weedsport, NY. I was very skeptical at first because I'd never heard of a company called Skydive CNY which was run out Whitford. My thought was why hadn't we heard of this place last year when we traveled more than twice the distance to Ovid, NY. However, much to my delight, I found out that Skydive CNY was a brand new company that started this year, and that was why none of us had ever heard of them before.

In April, I booked us an appointment for Saturday, May 14th. And after twelve straight days without a drop of rain, we woke up to cloudy skies and the threat of precipitation. Holding onto hope that we'd have a window to jump, we drove the short distance to Weedsport. We had to watch a couple of instructional videos as we signed our lives away, releasing Skydive CNY of any liability, in the event of our untimely demise. After brief ground training that lasted about ten minutes they told us to go into town and grab some coffee or breakfast because the conditions were not good for jumping.

We found a diner and had a nice breakfast. We killed about an hour and headed back to the airport with hopes that Mother Nature would co-operate with us. However, that heartless wench was being difficult. One of the instructors told us we were free to sit and watch TV or just hang out. Time ticked by and boredom was setting in. As my Dad and I chatted about anything that would take our minds off of the weather, I noticed that Donna had separated herself from the conversation and was reading a book on her phone. Figuring I could lighten the mood a bit I decided to have a little fun at her expense.

"Ya know Dad, if I had any idea we were going to be delayed this long, I would have scheduled that appointments for our tattoos first and then came to the airport."

It took a couple of seconds, but Donna finally realized what I had just said and immediately protested. We all had a good laugh about it. However, shortly after my little joke played out, the instructor informed us that the radar wasn't looking too good and we most likely weren't jumping that day.

We piled back into the car and took the somber drive back home. I remember thinking out loud that it had better fucking rain tomorrow too. We had just come off the better part of two weeks of sunshine and I'd be damned if "our Saturday" was going to be the only bad day during that stretch. As it turned out it rained the next day and several more days following that.

When we got home I immediately went to the website and booked another jump for the following Sunday at 12:30pm. As the week wore on the weather looked sketchy for the afternoon of our jump so I called the airport and reluctantly moved our appointment up 4 hours earlier. I would be playing in a captain and crew golf tournament for Thirsty's Tavern on Saturday and the idea of being up that early the next day didn't sound too enticing. I've played in that tournament every year that they've hosted it. To put it bluntly, it has always turned into a huge drunk fest.

Knowing that my Dad had worked so hard to be able to jump I decided to stay sober on Saturday so we could jump sooner rather that later. I realize that doesn't exactly make me a champion of the people, but our mission had to be completed. The schedule at the airport was filling up fast. If we didn't get our flight in soon who knew when we would get to go.

Thankfully, Mother Nature was in a better mood on Sunday. I'm only left to assume that she had her "monthly visitor" the previous week and was on the rag that day. Luckily, Mother Nature's "Aunt Flo" was gone for the time being and the skies were clear.

We each grabbed a jump suit and began getting prepared. As my instructor Jeff was tightening my harness he wryly asked:

"Is your 'sofa' in the center of your living room, if you catch my drift?"

I knew exactly what he was referring to. Let's just say that if you're a guy, and you're going to be traveling at 120 mph, and then be suddenly slowed to about 14 mph in a matter of seconds, you're going to want to make sure your "junk" is free from the restraints of the harness wrapped around your legs when the parachute opens. I jokingly responded that my 'nugget pouch' was free of any danger. With the harness and suit in place, we were off to the runway with inspired excitement to board the aircraft.

Although it was a small plane, probably the same size as the ones I had jumped from last year, this flight was a million times better. For starters, the engine was much stronger so we reached our desired elevation in no time. But the quicker climb wasn't the only part I liked better about jumping at Weedsport. Shortly after takeoff one of the instructors pointed out the Carrier Dome in Syracuse, NY off in the distance. Next he pointed out the cooling tower at Nine Mile Point Nuclear Plant in our home town of Oswego. I told him that's where we were from and we were very familiar with those surroundings. He asked my about another land mark in the distance and I explained to him that it was the Steam Station next to the harbor on Lake Ontario. Although the buildings were too small to identify individually, I could actually see the dense cluster of houses and buildings where Greene's is located. I thought that was really cool.

It was around this time that we got linked up to the instructors. Before I knew it the door was open and that familiar sound and smell could be detected, as the icy, cold rush of wind was in the cabin of the plane. It was at that point that there was no turning back. Not that I'd want to back out, but this is the breaking point. There's just something that isn't natural about sticking your foot out of a moving plane two miles above Earth. But the reward is worth more than words can say.

Dad and Mike left first, and Jeff and I were right behind them. That rush during the free fall was the greatest feeling in the World. I'm sure that never gets old. After about 25 seconds or so, the chute opened and we got the feeling of being propelled back upwards. The fun didn't end there though. Jeff made a couple of turns and handled the toggles over to me. He told me to turn the chute until I could locate the airport. I was pleased with myself that I found it quite rapidly. Last year in Ovid, the instructor asked me to do the same thing and I could find the runway to save my life. Fortunately, I wasn't responsible for finding the landing zone or I might still be out in a field somewhere.

During our return to the ground on the canopy ride, we did a number of spins and such. That's probably the closest you get to feeling like you're on a roller coaster. That part was an absolute blast as well. Then it was time to come in for the landing. This is the part where injuries could happen if you don't follow instructions. I'm happy to report that both of us made picture perfect landings as we slid in on our asses. No broken bones, no twisted ankles, and most importantly, no bruised "COIN PURSES"!

The best part of the experience was seeing the huge smile on my Dad's face when he landed behind me. It made all of that blood and sweat that he put himself through to be able to do something with his son that made this jump so much more special. The hug we shared in the middle of that grassy field will be with me for a lifetime. I'm so proud of him for his dedication to making that day possible. We've already purchased a second jump for later on this Summer. It's just a matter of picking out a date to go again. All I can say is that I can't wait to be stepping out of that plane again in the very near future. It will be another dream come true.