My parents were both teachers when I was growing up so we traveled a lot during spring breaks, Christmas breaks, and summer vacation. We went to Florida just about every year that I can remember through high school. One of the families favorite places in Florida to go was Saint Joseph State Park which is a peninsula located in the Gulf of Mexico on the panhandle of Florida. The following is a description of the State Park from their website:
"With miles of white sugar sand, this park has one of the top rated beaches in the United States. Sunbathing, snorkeling, and swimming are popular activities along the Gulf of Mexico and St. Joseph Bay. From offshore, canoeists and kayakers can take in a superb view of the high dunes and sand pine scrub. Outdoor enthusiasts can enjoy camping, fishing, hiking, and bicycling."
Snorkeling and swimming were activities that I would do every time I was there. There is a sandbar on the Gulf side that would trap a lot of sand dollars and other shells as the tides would come in and out. When I was around 12 years old snorkeling on the sandbar to search for shells was one of my favorite past times. This particular time I was by myself and the rest of my family was on the beach. As I snorkeled I was aware that someone was yelling somewhere but it was not the voice of either of my parents so I really didn't pay a lot of attention to it until I realized that the yelling voice was consistently getting closer. The water depth would obviously change with the tides but as I stood up on the sandbar the water was about a half a foot above my knees.
I looked down the beach in the direction of the yelling and spotted the man running down the beach repeatedly yelling something. I was focused on him trying to figure out what he was saying and I didn't make out the word "shark" until he was fairly close. It was that point that I started scanning the water and sure enough there was a shark. The man running down the beach was not very far ahead of the shark that was swimming between the sandbar and the beach. I first noticed the dorsal fin sticking above the water then about six or eight feet behind that the tail fin which also stuck out of the water. If I had started swimming as fast as I could to the beach I would have collided with the shark. I had no idea what to do but I was extremely scared. I don't recall if I pissed my pants or not but I do recall wondering if pissing my pants would attract the shark or keep it away from me. I could see the dark figure of the shark and as it passed about ten feet away from me I could see the distinct outline of the head of the hammerhead shark. I was shallow enough that I don't think the shark could have gotten to me if it wanted to but it didn't seem to care about my presence at all and continued down the beach.
After the shark was very far down the beach and I scanned up and down for other sharks I swam to shore at a speed that I am sure would give Phelps a run for his money. My parents were worried about the safety of swimming and snorkeling there so we went to the ranger station to talk to them. They informed us that hammer head sharks occasionally are able to get between the sand bar and the shore and that they like to go up and down feeding off everything that gets stuck there. They said that the type of hammer head shark that was there do not attack humans and that there has never been a shark attack at Saint Joseph State Park. As I recall my close encounter I can't help but still wonder if pissing is a good or a bad idea when sharks are close by though.
Showing posts with label Story Time. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Story Time. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Story Time with Zee - The Polygraph Test
My divorce was far from a smooth friendly divorce. My ex tried to make it so that I was not able to see my kids. She did just about anything she could think of to try to keep me from being able to see my kids. One day I came home to find a card on my door from a detective at the local police department requesting that I call them as soon as possible. A few months previous to that I would have taken my cell phone out of my pocket and called the number before I even unlocked the door. I would have had faith in the system with a desire to help the detective in what ever way possible.
Lucky for me I was smarter then that when I read the card on my door. I did get my cell phone out of my pocket to make a call before unlocking my door but I did not call the detective. Instead I called one of my three lawyers who took the information and advised me to avoid talking to anyone at the police department. My lawyer called the detective and found out that I was being investigated for sexual abuse. This was the third time my ex made up stories about me sexually abusing one of my kids to try to keep me from seeing my kids. The first two times Child Protective Services talked to me and then talked to my son and they quickly came to the conclusion that what ever incident my ex was claiming happened did not happen. I don't know what story she was telling this time but it was extremely serious that the police department had an open investigation.
My lawyer told me what would most likely happen if the police had a chance to bring me in for a talk. The detective would be very friendly, he would hear what I had to say, he would say it sounds like a misunderstanding to him, and then he would suggest I take a polygraph to clear things up. If I agreed to the polygraph test then they would have me wait in a room for the test. They would have me wait for hours which would make me get anxious and worried. A police officer would come in and question me in an aggressive loud manner in an attempt to scare the shit out of me. At the point where I was all worked up they would ask me to take a polygraph test which may show false results based on my worked up condition.
My lawyer instead set up a polygraph test for me through an independent polygrapher... or whatever they are called. The independent polygrapher that I used used to work for the county and is very well known and respected by the police department that was investigating me. So I went in to take a polygraph to prove that I've never sexually abused my kids. I also requested that he add physical abuse just to prevent any other future accusations. So he hooked up sensor things on my fingers, wrists, and chest and asked me a series of questions that required 'yes' or 'no' answers. Throughout the questions each of the questions was asked twice but in different ways.
The test showed that I have never sexually or physically abused my kids and the investigation against me was closed right away. That is not the way the system should work though. So much for innocent until proven guilty. I had to prove my own innocence and between lawyer fees and the cost of the polygraph test it cost me about a thousand dollars. The cost for my ex to get an investigation against me was a phone call.
Lucky for me I was smarter then that when I read the card on my door. I did get my cell phone out of my pocket to make a call before unlocking my door but I did not call the detective. Instead I called one of my three lawyers who took the information and advised me to avoid talking to anyone at the police department. My lawyer called the detective and found out that I was being investigated for sexual abuse. This was the third time my ex made up stories about me sexually abusing one of my kids to try to keep me from seeing my kids. The first two times Child Protective Services talked to me and then talked to my son and they quickly came to the conclusion that what ever incident my ex was claiming happened did not happen. I don't know what story she was telling this time but it was extremely serious that the police department had an open investigation.
My lawyer told me what would most likely happen if the police had a chance to bring me in for a talk. The detective would be very friendly, he would hear what I had to say, he would say it sounds like a misunderstanding to him, and then he would suggest I take a polygraph to clear things up. If I agreed to the polygraph test then they would have me wait in a room for the test. They would have me wait for hours which would make me get anxious and worried. A police officer would come in and question me in an aggressive loud manner in an attempt to scare the shit out of me. At the point where I was all worked up they would ask me to take a polygraph test which may show false results based on my worked up condition.
My lawyer instead set up a polygraph test for me through an independent polygrapher... or whatever they are called. The independent polygrapher that I used used to work for the county and is very well known and respected by the police department that was investigating me. So I went in to take a polygraph to prove that I've never sexually abused my kids. I also requested that he add physical abuse just to prevent any other future accusations. So he hooked up sensor things on my fingers, wrists, and chest and asked me a series of questions that required 'yes' or 'no' answers. Throughout the questions each of the questions was asked twice but in different ways.
The test showed that I have never sexually or physically abused my kids and the investigation against me was closed right away. That is not the way the system should work though. So much for innocent until proven guilty. I had to prove my own innocence and between lawyer fees and the cost of the polygraph test it cost me about a thousand dollars. The cost for my ex to get an investigation against me was a phone call.
Friday, March 20, 2009
Story Time with Zee - Denmark 03/20/09
The people... err... The person has spoken through the poll and selected a story from my trip to Denmark over Thailand, Ireland, and the Dominican Republic. I didn't have any exciting experiences on this trip but I'll do my best with this Story Time with Zee.
The purpose of my visit to Denmark was to run a booth at a trade show with a customer from Sweden that I had at the time. I was working for a cleanroom company that manufactured cleanroom wall systems for the semi-conductor and pharmaceutical industries. This particular trade show was for Food and Pharmacy Technology so I was showing off the companies new pharmaceutical cleanroom wall system.
I flew out of Grand Rapids, Michigan to Detroit to Manchester to Copenhagen to my final destination in Denmark. I don't remember the name of my final destination but the airport was about 30 minutes outside of the city where the trade show was located. For story purposes I'll call that destination... Zeeville. Copenhagen has somewhat of a confusing airport but I was able to find my flight to Zeeville when I got there.
The plane had seats for about twenty people and there was a total of five other people on the flight with me excluding flight crew. Before the flight took off the tall flight attendant in a short black skirt with a white somewhat see through blouse stood at the front and went through what I assume was the typical put your seat belt there are the exits speech in Danish. She made a few more announcements that meant nothing to me when we landed and since I was the last one on the plane and sitting closest to the exit I was the first one off of the plane. As I walked off the plane on the the single runway I looked around to find the "airport" was surrounded by corn fields. In the distance I could see a farm house here and there and on the side of the runway there was a garage that looked like a maintenance building but that was it. I didn't see anything that looked like a terminal. I stood there with a what the fuck this is Zeeville feeling.
The other five passengers walked past me as I stood there confused and they walked to the maintenance garage so I followed them. I stood with them in a one stall garage wondering how I was going to get a ride to my bed a breakfast from there. The garage door opened and the bagage cart drove in with everyone's luggage. We all grabbed our bags and everyone else proceeded out a door on the opposite side so I followed them. Through the door was a small waiting room with an adjacent office that was closed. Outside there was one taxi. I quickly wrote down the number on the side of the taxi assuming one of the other five would get it first. I only had American currency because I had planned on using ATMs to get Danish currency.
To my surprise in the corner of the small waiting room there was an ATM so I got the currency I needed. After I got the money I was very happy to see that although everyone else had left the taxi was still in the parking lot. As I walked up he said something to me in Danish in a friendly voice. I said, "Fuck, I'm don't understand a word you said." He responded with, "Fuck, I'll speak English then." The taxi driver was in his mid 50's. The radio was already on in the car when I got in playing a song my Eminem. The taxi driver sang along to Eminem, Will Smith, and a variety of other random American artists. I'll never forget him bobbing his head singing,
The purpose of my visit to Denmark was to run a booth at a trade show with a customer from Sweden that I had at the time. I was working for a cleanroom company that manufactured cleanroom wall systems for the semi-conductor and pharmaceutical industries. This particular trade show was for Food and Pharmacy Technology so I was showing off the companies new pharmaceutical cleanroom wall system.
I flew out of Grand Rapids, Michigan to Detroit to Manchester to Copenhagen to my final destination in Denmark. I don't remember the name of my final destination but the airport was about 30 minutes outside of the city where the trade show was located. For story purposes I'll call that destination... Zeeville. Copenhagen has somewhat of a confusing airport but I was able to find my flight to Zeeville when I got there.
The plane had seats for about twenty people and there was a total of five other people on the flight with me excluding flight crew. Before the flight took off the tall flight attendant in a short black skirt with a white somewhat see through blouse stood at the front and went through what I assume was the typical put your seat belt there are the exits speech in Danish. She made a few more announcements that meant nothing to me when we landed and since I was the last one on the plane and sitting closest to the exit I was the first one off of the plane. As I walked off the plane on the the single runway I looked around to find the "airport" was surrounded by corn fields. In the distance I could see a farm house here and there and on the side of the runway there was a garage that looked like a maintenance building but that was it. I didn't see anything that looked like a terminal. I stood there with a what the fuck this is Zeeville feeling.
The other five passengers walked past me as I stood there confused and they walked to the maintenance garage so I followed them. I stood with them in a one stall garage wondering how I was going to get a ride to my bed a breakfast from there. The garage door opened and the bagage cart drove in with everyone's luggage. We all grabbed our bags and everyone else proceeded out a door on the opposite side so I followed them. Through the door was a small waiting room with an adjacent office that was closed. Outside there was one taxi. I quickly wrote down the number on the side of the taxi assuming one of the other five would get it first. I only had American currency because I had planned on using ATMs to get Danish currency.
To my surprise in the corner of the small waiting room there was an ATM so I got the currency I needed. After I got the money I was very happy to see that although everyone else had left the taxi was still in the parking lot. As I walked up he said something to me in Danish in a friendly voice. I said, "Fuck, I'm don't understand a word you said." He responded with, "Fuck, I'll speak English then." The taxi driver was in his mid 50's. The radio was already on in the car when I got in playing a song my Eminem. The taxi driver sang along to Eminem, Will Smith, and a variety of other random American artists. I'll never forget him bobbing his head singing,
With so much drama in the L-B-C
It's kinda hard bein Snoop D-O-double-G
But I, somehow, some way
Keep comin up with funky ass shit like every single day
May I, kick a little something for the G's (yeah)
and, make a few ends as (yeah!) I breeze, through
Two in the mornin and the party's still jumpin
cause my momma ain't home
I got bitches in the living room gettin it on
and, they ain't leavin til six in the mornin (six in the mornin)
So what you wanna do, sheeeit
I got a pocket full of rubbers and my homeboys do too
So turn off the lights and close the doors
But (but what) we don't love them hoes, yeah!
So we gonna smoke a ounce to this
G's up, hoes down, while you motherfuckers bounce to this
Rollin down the street, smokin endo, sippin on gin and juice
Laid back (with my mind on my money and my money on my mind)
It's kinda hard bein Snoop D-O-double-G
But I, somehow, some way
Keep comin up with funky ass shit like every single day
May I, kick a little something for the G's (yeah)
and, make a few ends as (yeah!) I breeze, through
Two in the mornin and the party's still jumpin
cause my momma ain't home
I got bitches in the living room gettin it on
and, they ain't leavin til six in the mornin (six in the mornin)
So what you wanna do, sheeeit
I got a pocket full of rubbers and my homeboys do too
So turn off the lights and close the doors
But (but what) we don't love them hoes, yeah!
So we gonna smoke a ounce to this
G's up, hoes down, while you motherfuckers bounce to this
Rollin down the street, smokin endo, sippin on gin and juice
Laid back (with my mind on my money and my money on my mind)
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Story Time with Zee 3/10/09 - Date with a Crack Whore
I have used a number of online dating sites with varied success. The one that I have used for the longest is www.plentyoffish.com because it is free. The problem with plentyoffish (POF) is that there are a lot of uneducated and unintelligent women there. It had occurred to me that what I liked best about the site, being free, may be resulting in the less then desirable population that is there. A friend of mine suggested Match.com and so I checked it out. In general the women on Match.com were appeared a lot more educated so I signed up and started contacting women. After a month or so I had absolutely no responses. Then one Sunday I had a woman contact me so I was excited. She didn't have a picture which means at least one of a few things. She is insecure, she is ugly, or wants a guy who is primarily attracted to her mind not her body. We sent a few messages back and forth then she asked if I wanted to meet her at a local bar that night and I agreed to meet her.
Nine times out of ten a women who doesn't post a picture is not very attractive looking so I was happy to see that she was pretty. We talked for a while and were making some connections and we started talking about tattoos. She had a number of tattoos which I find attractive. She had a tribal band on her arm around the number 28 and I asked the significance of the number 28. She explained that it was her high school boyfriend's football number. I responded with, "At least its not his name." It was at that point that she pulled her hair to the side revealing "Steve" tattooed on her neck. Awkward. I wish this was the most disturbing point in the date.
We continued to talk and she said that she wanted to be completely honest with me. I'm all about honesty and I told her that I would appreciate that. She told me that she has used drugs in the past but she stopped using. I told her that wasn't a big deal to me and that I've used drugs in the past as well. She asked about the last time that I used and I told her how it was about ten years ago and explained to her why I quit. I asked her when the last time she used was and her response, "I smoked a little crack this morning." Awkward. I really wanted to tell her that she has to stop using for at least 24 hours before she can claim she quit.
I had just paid for another round of beers before she told me about her current crack addiction even though she claimed she quit. Granted it was dollar beer night but I paid for my beer and I was going to finish it before I left. When I finished my beer I was ready to give the, "It was nice to meet you. Don't call me. Good luck with life." talk but she asked me a question before I could give the talk. "Zee, will you take me to buy some crack." Ahh.... no. "Okay, I understand. Can you spot me $20 and I'll get it and meet you back here." Ahh... no. "Its kewl Zee I understand. Will you wait here for me while I go walk the streets till I can make $20 to buy crack?" Ahh... Fuck no. Good luck prostituting yourself tonight. Buh-bye. Awkward. Thinking back, at least she didn't ask me to pay to have sex with her... that was some what respectful of her.
Nine times out of ten a women who doesn't post a picture is not very attractive looking so I was happy to see that she was pretty. We talked for a while and were making some connections and we started talking about tattoos. She had a number of tattoos which I find attractive. She had a tribal band on her arm around the number 28 and I asked the significance of the number 28. She explained that it was her high school boyfriend's football number. I responded with, "At least its not his name." It was at that point that she pulled her hair to the side revealing "Steve" tattooed on her neck. Awkward. I wish this was the most disturbing point in the date.
We continued to talk and she said that she wanted to be completely honest with me. I'm all about honesty and I told her that I would appreciate that. She told me that she has used drugs in the past but she stopped using. I told her that wasn't a big deal to me and that I've used drugs in the past as well. She asked about the last time that I used and I told her how it was about ten years ago and explained to her why I quit. I asked her when the last time she used was and her response, "I smoked a little crack this morning." Awkward. I really wanted to tell her that she has to stop using for at least 24 hours before she can claim she quit.
I had just paid for another round of beers before she told me about her current crack addiction even though she claimed she quit. Granted it was dollar beer night but I paid for my beer and I was going to finish it before I left. When I finished my beer I was ready to give the, "It was nice to meet you. Don't call me. Good luck with life." talk but she asked me a question before I could give the talk. "Zee, will you take me to buy some crack." Ahh.... no. "Okay, I understand. Can you spot me $20 and I'll get it and meet you back here." Ahh... no. "Its kewl Zee I understand. Will you wait here for me while I go walk the streets till I can make $20 to buy crack?" Ahh... Fuck no. Good luck prostituting yourself tonight. Buh-bye. Awkward. Thinking back, at least she didn't ask me to pay to have sex with her... that was some what respectful of her.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Zee's Scare Tonight
When I had an AK-47 pointed at my chest on my way to Burma I was truly scared. When February gripped his shovel showing intentions of beating me with it I was truly scared. When a group of men with machetes tried to stop my car in the Dominican I was truly scared. Tonight, I was truly scared.
My neighbor send me a text message when I was at work reminding me that she was having a celebration for her birthday at the gay club tonight starting at 9:00 and she wanted me to be there. I got there closer to 10:00 and walked around expecting to see the neighbors that I usually see there. Instead I saw primarily women, a few of which were dressed like men. That's not uncommon but these women were taking it a few steps further and had drawn on facial hair and what not. I didn't see anyone I knew and got a number of dirty looks from women as I glanced from table to table looking for a familiar face. I then noticed the sign... Friday is Drag King night. I sent texts to a couple of the people I expected to see and told them where I was and asked where they would be. They responded with they would be there shortly.
Normally in that situation I would find a table with people at it that didn't seem engaged with each other. I'd approach the table tell them I'm waiting for friends, tell a few jokes, and maybe a story or two and make new friends. I have not and I will not approach people like that at the gay bar. A lot of women there don't just prefer the company of women they truly dislike men. Men there may or may not get the wrong idea if I did that and I wouldn't chance it to find out.
I tried to just play it cool and stand on the wall and people watch, which is one of my favorite things to do. I continued to get dirty looks from women and decided to just look at the floor and wait. A woman 'bumped' into me and when I looked up she said, "What the fuck?!?!?!" I was scared. There is no way I wanted to get my ass beat by a bunch of women. I will not hit a woman even if she is beating the shit out of me.
"I am sorry, my bad." Was my reply. She didn't look satisfied... she just stood there staring me down. I looked around. I'm not sure if I was looking for help or looking for the nearest exit. If I had made it to an exit I'm sure I could out run her. Screaming like a woman and running like a man is often a very effective way to avoid an ass whoppin'. As I looked around I saw Tony my neighbor so I shouted to him in my gayest voice possible, "Tony! There you are!" Man hating lesbians don't seem to be as threatened by gay men. She bought it and walked away.
Drag King night turned out to be scary in general. These women would come out looking like men and dance and the other women would shout and cheer and give them dollars. They all were charged up and very aggressive. Given the choice I'd rather be on that bridge again then face to face with a woman who is ready to kick my ass in a gay bar.
My neighbor send me a text message when I was at work reminding me that she was having a celebration for her birthday at the gay club tonight starting at 9:00 and she wanted me to be there. I got there closer to 10:00 and walked around expecting to see the neighbors that I usually see there. Instead I saw primarily women, a few of which were dressed like men. That's not uncommon but these women were taking it a few steps further and had drawn on facial hair and what not. I didn't see anyone I knew and got a number of dirty looks from women as I glanced from table to table looking for a familiar face. I then noticed the sign... Friday is Drag King night. I sent texts to a couple of the people I expected to see and told them where I was and asked where they would be. They responded with they would be there shortly.
Normally in that situation I would find a table with people at it that didn't seem engaged with each other. I'd approach the table tell them I'm waiting for friends, tell a few jokes, and maybe a story or two and make new friends. I have not and I will not approach people like that at the gay bar. A lot of women there don't just prefer the company of women they truly dislike men. Men there may or may not get the wrong idea if I did that and I wouldn't chance it to find out.
I tried to just play it cool and stand on the wall and people watch, which is one of my favorite things to do. I continued to get dirty looks from women and decided to just look at the floor and wait. A woman 'bumped' into me and when I looked up she said, "What the fuck?!?!?!" I was scared. There is no way I wanted to get my ass beat by a bunch of women. I will not hit a woman even if she is beating the shit out of me.
"I am sorry, my bad." Was my reply. She didn't look satisfied... she just stood there staring me down. I looked around. I'm not sure if I was looking for help or looking for the nearest exit. If I had made it to an exit I'm sure I could out run her. Screaming like a woman and running like a man is often a very effective way to avoid an ass whoppin'. As I looked around I saw Tony my neighbor so I shouted to him in my gayest voice possible, "Tony! There you are!" Man hating lesbians don't seem to be as threatened by gay men. She bought it and walked away.
Drag King night turned out to be scary in general. These women would come out looking like men and dance and the other women would shout and cheer and give them dollars. They all were charged up and very aggressive. Given the choice I'd rather be on that bridge again then face to face with a woman who is ready to kick my ass in a gay bar.
Monday, March 2, 2009
Story Time with Zee 03/02/09
The Gun in Thailand that Made Zee Piss his Pants... Almost
During the month I spent in Thailand I took a five day trip to the northern most point of Thailand in the Chiangrai province. It was on my trip to Chaingrai that I saw fields of opium, stayed in a hut that backed up to a whore house, and went to the Golden Triangle. The Golden Triangle is the area in southeast Asia where Thailand, Burma, and Laos meet and was named the Golden Triangle because it was the area that produced the most amount of opium in the world. In 1999 when I was in Thailand it was no longer legal to grow opium but it was still grown in some areas of Thailand and was commonly grown in Burma. While there my group decided to take a day trip to Burma because although everything is cheap in Thailand its even cheaper in Burma.
Burma is not a very stable country to this day and nor was it stable in 1999. There were a number of groups that claimed to be the official government including one military group that was lead by a 12 year old boy. I think they were referencing this in the movie "Tropic Thunder" if you have seen that movie.
My group consisted of two other Americans, three Thais, and myself. We stopped at a bank to get cash before we crossed the bridge that went over the river dividing Thailand from Burma. I could see the bridge from the bank and as the others got money out of the bank I stood outside and watched as people freely walked each way over the bridge. As I walked with my group across the bridge I walked along the edge and looked down at the rushing river that was below. I heard shouting but I didn't think anything of it at first since I could understand a word of it. We were just over halfway across the bridge and I realized the rest of my group had stopped moving and I was now at the front of the group. The shouting got louder and when I looked up I saw four men in military uniforms running at us from the Burma side of bridge with what looked like AK47's raised and aimed at us. The first one ran directly at me, I looked back at my group and they all had their hands raised in the air so I raised my hands in the air as well.
The first man stopped about five feet away from me with his gun aimed at my chest and shouted something. I kept my hands raised and said, "I'm sorry, I don't understand." The next two did the same thing to the other Americans and the fourth shouted the most and moved his gun around pointing it at all of us. It felt I stood there in confusion for hours with a gun pointed at me but in reality it was probably only seconds. Everyone in our group looked terrified but the oldest Thai gentleman started talking the the individual that was doing most of the shouting who seemed to be in charge. He then explained to the group that the toll to cross the bridge was 20 USD.
The entire time we stood there people walked past us and continued on towards Burma without paying any toll but I was more then willing to pay the toll. They lead our entire group across the bridge never lowering their guns. We went into a guard shack on the other side where we each gave 20 USD to the leader. Once we had paid the 'toll' they lowered their guns and the leader shouted another order. It was obvious that he did not understand the concept of an inside voice. It was translated to me that we could leave now but based on his tone and body language I believe he told us to get the fuck out.
Okay, I didn't actually piss my pants but I think that if I had not just used the bathroom I probably would have not only pissed my pants but also shat them as well.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Story Time with Zee 02/25/09 - A Dumbass named January
About three years ago I had to do forty hours of court ordered community service. I did my community service at a Bingo Hall which was actually a very good experience for me. While doing my community service I got to know a number of other people that were doing community service including Scott. Scott was not a very bright kid but it seemed to me that his heart was in the right place. It was clear that he was struggling to get on his feet. He slept on the porch of an aunt of his girlfriend and was not working. At the time I lived in a four bedroom house by myself so I offered to let him live with me.
I don't remember the name of Scott's girlfriend but I'll call her Jane. Scott and Jane had a six month old son who was taken away from them when he was a month old because of their drug addictions. At this point in my story Scott had been clean for five months and reported regularly for drug tests. He really wanted to clean his life up so that he could get custody of his son who was staying with Jane's father and step-mother. Jane however was not making very good decisions.
I awoke at about 1 am to knocking on my bedroom door hearing Scott say in a shaky voice, "Zee, I need you. Please. Something is wrong." When I came out of my bedroom Scott explained to me that he just got off the phone with Jane and he was sure that she was at her father's house with another guy. It hadn't been that long after I found out my ex was cheating on me and I really felt for Scott. Jane's father lived about 40 minutes away and I offered to drive him there thinking it would provide good time to talk him down. Jane's father lives in an area that is mostly apple orchards with houses few and far between. When I parked Scott ran in and I just waited in the car. Jane came out and gave me a hug and asked me to come in. It was clear that she was very drunk. She really didn't have much clothes on and as I walked in I noticed her clothing and a guy's clothing scattered around the living room. That is when she introduced me to the other guy there who called himself July. I'm sure that his real name is Julio but I only referred to him as January. January was in his mid-twenties about 5'-6" and appeared to be athletic.
Jane had some story about how January was just a friend and she was happy that Scott and I were there but it couldn't have been more shaddy. I am certain that January was providing the liquor that was getting Jane, who was 19 years old, drunk yet it didn't appear that he was drinking at all. January called one of his buddies to "get a ride home." I know enough Spanish to know that was not what he was saying on the phone to his buddy. He was laughing to his buddy about how he got caught and how there were two guys who came and he was out numbered. I'm thinking, "Fuck. I talked Scott down enough on the way here that he didn't immediately throw down. I really don't want this to get out of control." After January got off the phone he said his buddy couldn't pick him up and wanted to know if he could get a ride to his house. Jane said that she wanted to go back with Scott and I and I agreed to drop January off at his house on the way.
When I got to January's house he got out and went inside. Jane said that her coat was inside and she followed him in to get it. Scott and I sat in the car. Five minutes later we were still sitting and I was trying to talk Scott down. After ten minutes it had seemed like hours and Scott got out and knocked on the door. No one answered so he kicked the door in, went in, and came out with Jane screaming at him for kicking the door in. I got out of the car at about the same time that January came out of his house with another guy who I assume must have been February. There was some construction going on at the house and January took off his shirt then grabbed a brick. February took off his shirt then grabbed a shovel. I'm still not sure why they took their shirts off but it was clear what they had in mind for the brick and the shovel.
Jane jumped between Scott and January who were both ready to throw down and begged them not to fight. There was no one between February and me. I told February in both English and in Spanish that it wasn't my fight but it seemed that he didn't care. At that point I stopped trying to talk my way out of the fight and started thinking about fighting. He had a shovel and I knew that it would hurt like hell to get hit with a shovel and I had no intentions of letting that happen. I figured the best way to prevent a spade on the side of my face was to get in close so that there was no way that he could swing the shovel. I'd move fast and tackle him and if he swung the shovel as I approached I'd slide tackle him to avoid the shovel and to get him to the ground. He was about 15 feet away and I was going to make the first move to get an advantage since January and February's intentions were clear. I took two quick steps before February realized I was coming and I was watching close what he would do as he realized I was coming. I anticipated the shovel being swung but I was wrong. February was backing up quickly so I stopped. This time when I said its not my fight he responded with, "si."
I felt very empowered at this point. I no longer viewed February as a threat. I walked over to my car and opened the passenger door. I grabbed Scott and told him to get the fuck in my car and to my surprise he did. January and February were yelling at me to get the fuck in and get the fuck out of there as well. Jane early told me that she wanted to go with Scott and I was not going to leave her with January and February if she wanted to leave. When Scott was in the car she started yelling to get the fuck out too though. I stood behind my car and asked Jane to come over and talk to me. She again told me to get the fuck out of there. I said I would after she talked to me. She agreed to talk to me if I gave her my cigarettes so I did. I looked Jane in the eyes and said, "If you want to stay here that is your choice but if you want to leave here I will not leave without you." Again she told me to get the fuck out of there so I got in my car and left.
I don't remember the name of Scott's girlfriend but I'll call her Jane. Scott and Jane had a six month old son who was taken away from them when he was a month old because of their drug addictions. At this point in my story Scott had been clean for five months and reported regularly for drug tests. He really wanted to clean his life up so that he could get custody of his son who was staying with Jane's father and step-mother. Jane however was not making very good decisions.
I awoke at about 1 am to knocking on my bedroom door hearing Scott say in a shaky voice, "Zee, I need you. Please. Something is wrong." When I came out of my bedroom Scott explained to me that he just got off the phone with Jane and he was sure that she was at her father's house with another guy. It hadn't been that long after I found out my ex was cheating on me and I really felt for Scott. Jane's father lived about 40 minutes away and I offered to drive him there thinking it would provide good time to talk him down. Jane's father lives in an area that is mostly apple orchards with houses few and far between. When I parked Scott ran in and I just waited in the car. Jane came out and gave me a hug and asked me to come in. It was clear that she was very drunk. She really didn't have much clothes on and as I walked in I noticed her clothing and a guy's clothing scattered around the living room. That is when she introduced me to the other guy there who called himself July. I'm sure that his real name is Julio but I only referred to him as January. January was in his mid-twenties about 5'-6" and appeared to be athletic.
Jane had some story about how January was just a friend and she was happy that Scott and I were there but it couldn't have been more shaddy. I am certain that January was providing the liquor that was getting Jane, who was 19 years old, drunk yet it didn't appear that he was drinking at all. January called one of his buddies to "get a ride home." I know enough Spanish to know that was not what he was saying on the phone to his buddy. He was laughing to his buddy about how he got caught and how there were two guys who came and he was out numbered. I'm thinking, "Fuck. I talked Scott down enough on the way here that he didn't immediately throw down. I really don't want this to get out of control." After January got off the phone he said his buddy couldn't pick him up and wanted to know if he could get a ride to his house. Jane said that she wanted to go back with Scott and I and I agreed to drop January off at his house on the way.
When I got to January's house he got out and went inside. Jane said that her coat was inside and she followed him in to get it. Scott and I sat in the car. Five minutes later we were still sitting and I was trying to talk Scott down. After ten minutes it had seemed like hours and Scott got out and knocked on the door. No one answered so he kicked the door in, went in, and came out with Jane screaming at him for kicking the door in. I got out of the car at about the same time that January came out of his house with another guy who I assume must have been February. There was some construction going on at the house and January took off his shirt then grabbed a brick. February took off his shirt then grabbed a shovel. I'm still not sure why they took their shirts off but it was clear what they had in mind for the brick and the shovel.
Jane jumped between Scott and January who were both ready to throw down and begged them not to fight. There was no one between February and me. I told February in both English and in Spanish that it wasn't my fight but it seemed that he didn't care. At that point I stopped trying to talk my way out of the fight and started thinking about fighting. He had a shovel and I knew that it would hurt like hell to get hit with a shovel and I had no intentions of letting that happen. I figured the best way to prevent a spade on the side of my face was to get in close so that there was no way that he could swing the shovel. I'd move fast and tackle him and if he swung the shovel as I approached I'd slide tackle him to avoid the shovel and to get him to the ground. He was about 15 feet away and I was going to make the first move to get an advantage since January and February's intentions were clear. I took two quick steps before February realized I was coming and I was watching close what he would do as he realized I was coming. I anticipated the shovel being swung but I was wrong. February was backing up quickly so I stopped. This time when I said its not my fight he responded with, "si."
I felt very empowered at this point. I no longer viewed February as a threat. I walked over to my car and opened the passenger door. I grabbed Scott and told him to get the fuck in my car and to my surprise he did. January and February were yelling at me to get the fuck in and get the fuck out of there as well. Jane early told me that she wanted to go with Scott and I was not going to leave her with January and February if she wanted to leave. When Scott was in the car she started yelling to get the fuck out too though. I stood behind my car and asked Jane to come over and talk to me. She again told me to get the fuck out of there. I said I would after she talked to me. She agreed to talk to me if I gave her my cigarettes so I did. I looked Jane in the eyes and said, "If you want to stay here that is your choice but if you want to leave here I will not leave without you." Again she told me to get the fuck out of there so I got in my car and left.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Story Time with Zee 02/20/09
There was a tie on the poll for the topic of this story time between "Stalking Shakira in the Dominican" and "A dumbass named January." This story time will be about stalking Shakira and I will do another one later about the dumbass named January.
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Stalking Shakira in the Dominican Republic
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The year was 2007, it was less than a year after Shakira had won her second ‘’Grammy Award’’ in the category of ‘’Best Latin Rock/Alternative Album’’ (‘’Fijación Oral Vol. 1’’). Honestly the only knowledge that I had about Shakira was that I liked to watch her dance. I took a week long vacation because I needed a vacation, I chose the Dominican Republic because I knew a beautiful woman, Audrey, there that was willing to show me around. Audrey was a legal US resident in Grand Rapids, my home town, but she lived primarily in the Dominican Republic where she was in medical school. Really the only time that I stayed in my hotel was when I was sleeping and the majority of the time I was out and about with locals. One of the days I took a day trip from San Pedro (the town I stayed in) down the coast with Audrey and another girl. I don't remember what the name of the place we went to was but we saw where Sammy Sosa was married and some extremely old architecture (pictures in the video below.) The marjority of areas we saw on our drive there would be considered slums by American standards but once I saw huge houses in a gated community. I asked the girls about it and they said that famous people like Sammy Sosa and Shakira have houses there. I said I wanted to drive through but they said its impossible due to the gates and armed guards but they wish they could see in there as well. In an attempt to impress the girls on the way back I convinced them to try to get in. We drove up to the gaurd, he spoke, Audrey translated, "He wants to know why we are here." I told her to tell him we were visiting a friend... tell him we are visiting Andrew Jackson and I pulled a twenty dollar bill out of my pocket. Keep in mind that twenty dollars is a lot of money there. He basically told us to fuck off. So we started to drive around the gated community to see what we could see from the outside when we came to a side gate with another gaurd. This gaurd was more then happy to let us in to visit our friend Andrew Jackson. We drove around and looked at the mansions without seeing anyone famous so we parked at the central part of the gated community where there were shops and where all of the boats were docked. We walked through all the shops without seeing Shakira and even went into a few of the resturants none of which I wanted to pay the high prices to eat at. I didn't want to take pictures with my disposable camera when I was there because I was sure that would make me stand out and result in us being kicked out. Audrey found what she was sure was Shakira's boat. I have no idea why she thought it was Shakira's boat but I took a picture of her with it. In the YouTube video below you can see the picture about 38 seconds into the video.
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Stalking Shakira in the Dominican Republic
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The year was 2007, it was less than a year after Shakira had won her second ‘’Grammy Award’’ in the category of ‘’Best Latin Rock/Alternative Album’’ (‘’Fijación Oral Vol. 1’’). Honestly the only knowledge that I had about Shakira was that I liked to watch her dance. I took a week long vacation because I needed a vacation, I chose the Dominican Republic because I knew a beautiful woman, Audrey, there that was willing to show me around. Audrey was a legal US resident in Grand Rapids, my home town, but she lived primarily in the Dominican Republic where she was in medical school. Really the only time that I stayed in my hotel was when I was sleeping and the majority of the time I was out and about with locals. One of the days I took a day trip from San Pedro (the town I stayed in) down the coast with Audrey and another girl. I don't remember what the name of the place we went to was but we saw where Sammy Sosa was married and some extremely old architecture (pictures in the video below.) The marjority of areas we saw on our drive there would be considered slums by American standards but once I saw huge houses in a gated community. I asked the girls about it and they said that famous people like Sammy Sosa and Shakira have houses there. I said I wanted to drive through but they said its impossible due to the gates and armed guards but they wish they could see in there as well. In an attempt to impress the girls on the way back I convinced them to try to get in. We drove up to the gaurd, he spoke, Audrey translated, "He wants to know why we are here." I told her to tell him we were visiting a friend... tell him we are visiting Andrew Jackson and I pulled a twenty dollar bill out of my pocket. Keep in mind that twenty dollars is a lot of money there. He basically told us to fuck off. So we started to drive around the gated community to see what we could see from the outside when we came to a side gate with another gaurd. This gaurd was more then happy to let us in to visit our friend Andrew Jackson. We drove around and looked at the mansions without seeing anyone famous so we parked at the central part of the gated community where there were shops and where all of the boats were docked. We walked through all the shops without seeing Shakira and even went into a few of the resturants none of which I wanted to pay the high prices to eat at. I didn't want to take pictures with my disposable camera when I was there because I was sure that would make me stand out and result in us being kicked out. Audrey found what she was sure was Shakira's boat. I have no idea why she thought it was Shakira's boat but I took a picture of her with it. In the YouTube video below you can see the picture about 38 seconds into the video.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Story Time with Zee 02/15/09
There is a cabin in the wilderness of Onterio, Canada that is owned by a family that is friends with my family. In order to get to the cabin from my home town it required a 14 hour drive to get to a little bait and tackle shop that had a dock on a lake. From the small dock its just over an hour boat ride to get to the cabin. Its not a long distance boat ride but you go from lake to lake on connecting creeks and you have to go slow in order to avoid shallow spots and rocks. The cabin is located on an island in one of the inter-connected lakes. It is completely disconnected from the rest of the word. No cell phone signal, no electricity, no television, nothing. There is a generator that is used for lights and the refrigerator as well as propane that is used for heat and cooking.
I've been there a number of times and had a lot of great experiences. I doubt that I will ever forget the last time that I was there which was when I was fourteen years old. I went up there with my father and we brought our two canoes and everything we needed to go canoe backpacking. We spent the first night in the cabin and the next day my father, my friend Christian, his father, and I checked our packs and loaded everything into the motor boat. Christian's mother went with us as we towed the two canoes an hour away (by motor boat). We were dropped off at a trail that lead to another lake a quarter of a mile down. It takes two trips to get all the gear to the other lake. The first trip involves carrying all the supplies and the second trip taking the canoes. We fished for hours hoping to catch lunch but didn't have any luck. The next portage was very short so we carried the canoes with the gear in them the short distance. We paddled slowly through the next long narrow lake enjoying the heat of the summer and fish a little as we went along.
There was one more portage for that day which lead to the lake that we'd be camping on that night and the portage was about a mile and a half long. Like the first portage we first carried all our gear to the other lake then went back for the canoes. My father and I were a lot more experienced then Christian and his father. We had our canoe over half way there by the time Christian and his father passed us going back the other way to get their canoe. After we dropped off our canoe we started heading back to help with the last canoe. Part way back I noticed bear droppings that were fairly fresh. There are a lot of bears in that area and I had backpacked many places with bears at that time. I pointed it out to my father and he suggested that I go back and wait with the packs to keep our food safe.
There was one section of the path right before where our gear was that had thick brush on both sides that you had to push your way through. These paths were not used very often but I'd already gone through it four times and I thought nothing of it as I pushed my way through it a fifth time. I lifted my right foot as I stepped forward and experienced a sharp pain in my foot. It felt like a stick had poked me through my shoe. It was dark in that section of the path but as I left the thick brush I could see my foot and I could see the blood gushing out of a hole in my shoe with every step. I went straight to the pack with the fist aid kit. I took a deep breath then removed my shoe only to reveal a blood soaked sock. It was hard to tell how bad the wound was because it was bleeding a lot so I just wrapped my foot with gauze. My family all know how to whistle in a particular way that indicates to each other that we need help and my father recognized it right away when he heard me. He assumed that I saw a bear and didn't want to be by myself so he sent Christian ahead.
When Christian went through the portion of the path with thick brush he discovered a fillet knife on the path. He came running up holding the knife, "Zee check out what I found! It has blood on it and everything!" I didn't find it nearly as exciting as Christian had. When my father came he properly dressed my foot and found that I had two cuts. A wider cut on the top where the knife had gone in and a narrow cut on the bottom where the knife had come out the other side. I was in so much pain that I couldn't put any weight on my foot and my father was worried. We had just finished the longest portage of our trip and we had to do it all over in reverse. This time not only could I not help with the portage but I had to be helped along as well.
After the long portage the sun was starting to get low. There was a short portage from that lake that lead to the main lake where the cabin was located. It would only be a few hours till dark. My father and Christians father took one canoe and left Christian and I with the other canoe and all of the supplies. That would be the fastest way to get back to the cabin to get the motor boat. Its amazing how quiet it is in the woods and how you hear every acorn fall from a tree and every step a squirrel takes. I find it equally amazing how the minds of two fourteen year olds turn each step of a squirrel and each fallen acorn into sounds from a bear. At fourteen I'd encountered a number of bears in the wild and I knew deep down beers were more afraid of me then I was of them. The sun went down and we sat in the dark with only the light from the moon and the stars when there were openings in the clouds. I never once considered the possibility that my father wasn't coming back that night. I never considered starting a fire or setting up the tent because in my mind it would be a matter of minutes before he returned.
My father canoed the last 10 or 15 minutes of his trip to the cabin in darkness. The ride back to where Christian and I were located was slow as well and not a short ride. We had been sitting in the darkness for around two hours, well I had been sitting, Christian had been collecting rocks and sticks to fight off bears. By the time we all got back to the cabin everyone was exhausted and the adults discussed how to get me some place for medical attention. I convinced them that I could wait till morning and I think everyone was happy to get some sleep.
From the bait and tackle shop it was 2 hours to the town on Timmins, which was the closest place for medical attention. When we got to Timmins I wasn't in much pain so we decided to get to the United States and go to a medical center there. We got to the city of Sault Ste Marie and crossed over to the United States and I was doing alright so we continued home so that I could see the family doctor. I never ended up seeing the family doctor. I still have scars on the top and bottom of my foot but the blade went through clean and apparently didn't do any major damage.
I've been there a number of times and had a lot of great experiences. I doubt that I will ever forget the last time that I was there which was when I was fourteen years old. I went up there with my father and we brought our two canoes and everything we needed to go canoe backpacking. We spent the first night in the cabin and the next day my father, my friend Christian, his father, and I checked our packs and loaded everything into the motor boat. Christian's mother went with us as we towed the two canoes an hour away (by motor boat). We were dropped off at a trail that lead to another lake a quarter of a mile down. It takes two trips to get all the gear to the other lake. The first trip involves carrying all the supplies and the second trip taking the canoes. We fished for hours hoping to catch lunch but didn't have any luck. The next portage was very short so we carried the canoes with the gear in them the short distance. We paddled slowly through the next long narrow lake enjoying the heat of the summer and fish a little as we went along.
There was one more portage for that day which lead to the lake that we'd be camping on that night and the portage was about a mile and a half long. Like the first portage we first carried all our gear to the other lake then went back for the canoes. My father and I were a lot more experienced then Christian and his father. We had our canoe over half way there by the time Christian and his father passed us going back the other way to get their canoe. After we dropped off our canoe we started heading back to help with the last canoe. Part way back I noticed bear droppings that were fairly fresh. There are a lot of bears in that area and I had backpacked many places with bears at that time. I pointed it out to my father and he suggested that I go back and wait with the packs to keep our food safe.
There was one section of the path right before where our gear was that had thick brush on both sides that you had to push your way through. These paths were not used very often but I'd already gone through it four times and I thought nothing of it as I pushed my way through it a fifth time. I lifted my right foot as I stepped forward and experienced a sharp pain in my foot. It felt like a stick had poked me through my shoe. It was dark in that section of the path but as I left the thick brush I could see my foot and I could see the blood gushing out of a hole in my shoe with every step. I went straight to the pack with the fist aid kit. I took a deep breath then removed my shoe only to reveal a blood soaked sock. It was hard to tell how bad the wound was because it was bleeding a lot so I just wrapped my foot with gauze. My family all know how to whistle in a particular way that indicates to each other that we need help and my father recognized it right away when he heard me. He assumed that I saw a bear and didn't want to be by myself so he sent Christian ahead.
When Christian went through the portion of the path with thick brush he discovered a fillet knife on the path. He came running up holding the knife, "Zee check out what I found! It has blood on it and everything!" I didn't find it nearly as exciting as Christian had. When my father came he properly dressed my foot and found that I had two cuts. A wider cut on the top where the knife had gone in and a narrow cut on the bottom where the knife had come out the other side. I was in so much pain that I couldn't put any weight on my foot and my father was worried. We had just finished the longest portage of our trip and we had to do it all over in reverse. This time not only could I not help with the portage but I had to be helped along as well.
After the long portage the sun was starting to get low. There was a short portage from that lake that lead to the main lake where the cabin was located. It would only be a few hours till dark. My father and Christians father took one canoe and left Christian and I with the other canoe and all of the supplies. That would be the fastest way to get back to the cabin to get the motor boat. Its amazing how quiet it is in the woods and how you hear every acorn fall from a tree and every step a squirrel takes. I find it equally amazing how the minds of two fourteen year olds turn each step of a squirrel and each fallen acorn into sounds from a bear. At fourteen I'd encountered a number of bears in the wild and I knew deep down beers were more afraid of me then I was of them. The sun went down and we sat in the dark with only the light from the moon and the stars when there were openings in the clouds. I never once considered the possibility that my father wasn't coming back that night. I never considered starting a fire or setting up the tent because in my mind it would be a matter of minutes before he returned.
My father canoed the last 10 or 15 minutes of his trip to the cabin in darkness. The ride back to where Christian and I were located was slow as well and not a short ride. We had been sitting in the darkness for around two hours, well I had been sitting, Christian had been collecting rocks and sticks to fight off bears. By the time we all got back to the cabin everyone was exhausted and the adults discussed how to get me some place for medical attention. I convinced them that I could wait till morning and I think everyone was happy to get some sleep.
From the bait and tackle shop it was 2 hours to the town on Timmins, which was the closest place for medical attention. When we got to Timmins I wasn't in much pain so we decided to get to the United States and go to a medical center there. We got to the city of Sault Ste Marie and crossed over to the United States and I was doing alright so we continued home so that I could see the family doctor. I never ended up seeing the family doctor. I still have scars on the top and bottom of my foot but the blade went through clean and apparently didn't do any major damage.
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