As you can tell, the Strep is slowing eating away at me inside. It's causing an anger that I didn't know was there before. In any case, I emailed The Doc and asked him if he could write me something, anything it didn't matter cause I was sick of posting about Strep Throat and in all honesty that's the only focus on my mind right now. This is a personal battle that I will eventually have it out with it and it won't be pretty.
A little prologue…
This weekend, the planets were supposed to come into alignment and I was supposed to head out to Sin City to romp with a young Dan McCockle, the proprietor of this blog. Alas, this was not meant to be. I wasted too much money prior to the purchase of a ticket, and Dan was infected with a temperamental stepchild of the ebola virus. Knowing that I wasn’t going to make my trip to Vegas, I decided to still keep the days I had requested off work, even if only to stay at home and catch up on some reading.
…
Last Monday, I received a call from an old friend from the military days. I hadn’t seen Sam Doster in about 2 years, but we’d spent a good chunk of our military service together. We’ve been known to drink a bit too much and cause a general sense of uneasiness in all those nearby.
Long story, short:
Doster: Get the Hell out here, Nate.
Doc: No can do. The shrapnel in my pocket won’t pay for the ticket.
Doster: Not a problem. I’ve got a voucher for an airline that has to be used by this weekend. You’re on a flight out of Kalamazoo Thursday morning and you’ll be here until Sunday. See you Thursday.
Doc: Apparently you will.
I scramble for the next few days to get work in order for my vacation and, as told, I hop on a Thursday morning flight, albeit feeling a little uneasy. I don’t know why I’m feeling nervous, but assume it’s simply because I’m flying. Of course, no flight has ever bothered me before, but perhaps a body changes after it hits 29. Regardless, I dismiss my apprehension with a Jack Daniels, the only whiskey that any airline seems to keep in stock. It’ll do the job though. I take my first drink of the day at 10:32 a.m., somewhere over Ohio, my least favorite state in the country. This trip was doomed from the start.
Most reunions are full of handshakes and smiles, and Doster’s and mine is no different. We make our way to Sam’s apartment and continue drinking. Apparently, Doster is living with a girl (Kim) that he’s madly in love with. She shows up. Introductions are made. I begin to feel uneasy again.
I learn a few things about Sam and Kim’s relationship during my first few hours there:
- Kim is going through a divorce.
- Sam is in love with Kim.
- Kim does not really want to rush into another relationship (naturally), but Sam is being kind enough to allow Kim to live with him.
- Sam is very much in love with Kim.
- Kim really has nowhere else to go.
- Sam is unhealthily in love with Kim.
- Sam is in love with Kim, and we will all be drinking a good chunk of alcohol this weekend.
Readers, I won’t waste your time with details. Lots of booze, some laughs, some stupidity. Much of it’s actually a haze. You get the idea. But I flew into Washington D.C. on Thursday morning with a return flight scheduled for Sunday, and by 3:00 a.m. Saturday I will be calling Northwest Airlines demanding a flight home immediately.
Friday night is a strange one. We’ve been drinking for a while, but Doster doesn’t seem to be having much fun. Anytime a guy stands near Kim, Sam whispers to me, “Watch this, Doc. I’ll bet you that guy talks to her.”
Now this kind of behavior is always troublesome to me, but it’s especially so when I’m on vacation and it involves the person that I am staying with. Perhaps it’s cowardice, but I always like to maintain an escape route out of any situation. Anyway, my partners in crime and I continue drinking and I start to get that knot in my stomach; the one that usually means the fun’s about to end.
We leave for Sam’s apartment around midnight because Kim’s a little drunk and she has to work in the morning. Sam’s angry and it shows by his driving: hugging corners and speeding most of the way.
We get back to the apartment and Sam continues drinking. I start watching T.V. and I can tell that Sam is itching for an argument with Kim. I imagine that she can tell as well, as she announces that she’s going to sleep on the pullout couch in the living room, rather than in bed with Sam. This only makes Sam angrier and voices are raised. The argument starts and I stay quiet. Sam tells Kim to get the fuck out. She begins to. Sam apparently changes his mind. As Kim tries to walk past, he grabs her arm, and she’s on the floor.
Now here’s the thing: I wouldn’t say that I’m a great guy. I imagine that there are a lot of people that consider me an asshole (and I promise that not all of these people are male). I’ve done my share of playing the insensitive boyfriend in many of my previous relationships. But I refuse to put up with any sort of violence toward women. It’s not chivalry. It’s not heroic. It’s simply a piece of some men’s character that disgusts me more than anything else on earth.
Doster is my friend. It is because of this that I’ll say nothing about the specifics of my intervention, but he grabbed her wrist only once.
Things get out of hand for a while, but eventually Doster calms down, drinks some more, and passes out. I call Northwest Airlines. After explaining my situation to an extremely understanding ticket agent, I have a flight that leaves D.C. in 2 hours. Kim drives me to the airport. She plans on moving back to her parent’s home for a while.
I get on my flight at 6:25 a.m., feeling more uneasy than I did when I came here. Around 7:00, I convince the stewardess to give me a Jack Daniels, though she gives me a wary look. I’m sure that I’m somewhere over Ohio when I have my drink. Makes sense.
Moral of this story: There’s a reason why “free” trips are free. Stay home and drink by yourself, or with friends that you know are absent of a predisposition of violence toward women.
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13 comments:
I'm at work, sitting here, lamenting that I'm not writing. I'm not writing anything for Dan, for myself, for my employer. That's the big one, not writing anything for my employer, because I am overwhelmed.
But that is besides the point, The Eagles came on the ipod. I starting thinking about the Doc, don't know why. Probably because I read his blog, and I thought about his D.C. story and The Eagles. Music makes you put things in perspective in a strange way, and once I associate music with an image, person, or story it sticks in my mind forever. (I have the same problem with birthdays. It is hard for me to forget birthdays.) Here is a list of birthdays for people I went to highschool with
January 13
March 1
March 3
March 19
March 31
April 17?
April 19
April 21
July 28
October 6
October 11
October 17
November 17
December 8
December 12
There are more flooding into my mind, but I'm not writing them down. I can think of at least six people outside of my family that were born in November, but every date hiting me is the 17th. That's not right. Three of those people went to highschool with me. My supernatural powers are failing. But the point is, I remember birthdays by associating the date with the person. Sometimes I am a day or two off, but usually not. I'm the same way with certain songs. I tried to get on the Michigan Legislature website while The Eagles were playing and my browser took me to At The Corner Bar because it is probably the last site I visited, and the song connected with the Doc's story. I was already thinking about the Doc because of his story before the browser took me there with the song in the background. So Doc, there you go. Everytime I hear that Eagles song I will think of you drunk and fighting with your friend to protect his girlfriend.
I'm rambling and it feels good because it is almost noon and I haven't rambled yet. Now I am moving on to the Michigan Legislature to see what I can figure out about the Builder's Trust Fund Act. Let's get excited. Let's get pumped.
What Eagles song? There's a song by them that I love but I don't know the name...I think it's call In the City...or something like that.
"Pretty Maids All In A Row"
Never heard it...in fact I don't know many Eagles songs by heart but I know that they get played when they are in a jutebox.
Do you know what Eagles song I was referring to? It is such an end credits song to a buddy/growing/adventure movie.
Yes, it is called "In The City"
"Somewhere out on that horizion
out beyond the neon lights
I know there must be something better"
Yes...God Damn I love that song. I'll have to buy that album just for that song. I will not download it...I will buy it to show support of how much that song is awesome. I've been at home so much lately that I feel like I should be watching soaps...though with nates story...I guess that was my soap fix for the day.
I'm going to have to call Bullshit! Hi, Everybody, this is Quaig, long-time reader and first-time poster-of-comments, and I think there is some trickery going on here! If this "Doc" is supposedly the man responsible for some of the wreckage of Ypsilanti (circa 98'- 03')then I must insist that this is the work of an imposter!
For starters he was never publicly known as "Doc". Not this guy."Doc" is a nice nickname;one that conjures up memories of Bugs Bunny from one's formative years. It's the name that a father would have affectionatly called his son in 1954, on their way to the fishin' hole. "Doc" is the name of the most reliable ranch hand on the farm, in a time when life looked like an episode of Bonanza. This couldn't possibly be the same guy!
No, Sir, this guy was known as "The Doctor",and for very insidious reasons.It was said that he possesed a physicians aptitude for dealing with TMJ in the jaws and skulls of lowly "patients" who desperatley craved a shot of his "novicaine".
Another erroneus detail that drives my suspicions that this is a case of identity theft, is that this author seems dissatisfied with Jack Daniels whiskey. When the official Doctor first began
his kamikaze assault on the sensibilities and values of the unsuspecting populace, he drank ALOT of Jack Daniels. Any second rate "Doctor" historian knows that his initial cocktail of choice was "Jack and Ginger".
Of course, he progressed to "Captian and Sprite", but after being on the losing end of a bout with "Ouzo", he seldom ventured outside the umbrella of his beloved "Captian". That is, until he became strong again, and reached a state of drinking hitherto unknown in most parts of America (but soon to be the marvel of modern engineering), where he developed a wrought-iron stomach and would drink ANYTHING too soft to eat!
Therefore, my Doctor wouldn't balk at macro-consumed, over-mythologized-by-novice-drinkers, starter whiskey. No, ma'am.
Another point of contention, is that the REAL Doctor didn't merely disdain Ohio in a manner befitting a footnote in a tale of excess. This charletan makes it seem as if he dislikes the "Buckeye" state simply because he is a "Wolverine", or something equaly as trite. But the genuine article hated that state with a blind rage that knew no boundaries. Had the real-deal been soaring above Ohio in an airplane, his own personal jihad would have erupted in an al-Qaeda fury that would have altered Ohio's landscape permanantly.
I must admit, the Doctor would have intervened in the situation where a buddy was about to beat his girlfriend, but some clarifiactions must be made.
First, the authentic "Doctor" would have been disgusted with his friend LONG before the incident took place.
"The Doctor" was infamous for being disgusted with his company, if they didn't live up to his ideals, or were hampering his fun. Disgust was theme for "The Doctor". He onced went to a costume party, really angry and completly naked, except for a glass bowl strapped to his dick, full of his own vomit.When somebody gathered the courage to inquire as to what his costume was, he scowled for a moment, then forcefully exclaimed:"I'm fucking DISGUSTED!" My point is, that The Doctor would have been ready to pounce and lay his friend out well in advance.
But, even so, anybody who knew the actual man knows that he would've thrown himself into the mix for a myriad of reasons, not the least of which was protecting his FRIEND. That's the rub, right there.
The original physician was no trooper for the morality police. He would never have man-handled his counter-part to simply protect an innocent, vulnerable, female. That may, or may not, factor into the total situation depending on how well The Doctor knew this "damsel in distress".He would of entered the fray because he was pissed he was placed in such a stupid situation in the first place, and he didn't want it to get worse with police, court hearings (he would have been a witness, and another trip to D.C. was out of the question), and perhaps murderous retaliations on his friends life from an outraged husband and/or brother(s).
Don't get me wrong,The Doctor never condoned violence against women, but that was never as deep a conviction. Not as much as correcting and protecting his stupid friends with his bare hands. The bonafide Doctor was one of the most loyal creatures on this planet, even if that loyalty put him in situations where his beliefs were compromised. That is why he was the stuff of legend.
Besides, the real Doctor damged so many women and broke so many hearts, one can't help but wonder if the gods of karma would have been nicer to him if he would have just beat one to a bloody pulp and left the rest alone.
He could have been sitting in the Oval Office at this very moment, gazing over the South Lawn, hadn't it been for his blessing/curse:The amazing gifts and attributes, skills and infinate precision, that made him what he was to those who were fortunate to be alive in his time: a Master Surgeon.
I would like to conclude with this: this "Doc" comes close to the original, except for one fatal flaw. It would be hard to spot, unless you were a Doctor Archivist, like myself, and only then would it barely stand out as a bogus document.
The antagonist in every great Doctor story, myth and rumour was named Sam Malone.
Smoke and Mirrors.
With Time comes change. I'm sure the Dcotor was looking for a new voice, a new persona.
I knew this guy who was great friends with the doctor. He was just as, or even crazier at times then the doctor. He made unborn children fear their birth for he was the reason why you shouldn't walk alone in the dark. He was the man, the myth, the legend. Until one day I heard that this man was getting married. I too, thought this was all a lie because the real man wouldn't be getting married. Why? Why would this happen? But to my suprise it did. A nine to five job, a family but even though I know all of this, I still fear the dark at night. I see the movements in the corners, waiting to tell me that it's ok to stay up till seven in the morning drinking Jack and Sprite, writing, when I have to be at work at noon the next day.
You see, if a legend is born, then one does not have to live up to that standard. They should, but once the American eyes sees that person for who they are, they can do no more wrong. Look at the Rolling Stones. They are Legends but yet, can you name their new album off the top of your head? I consider John Carmpenter a Legend but yet he has directed a decent horror movie since the early 90's.
My point is that don't fear that someone is pretending to be something they aren't. They were just a little ol' catipillar who have bloomed into a beautiful butterfly and that butterfly was trapped by a little kid and now sits on a twig in some house in the midwest.
All I can say is that The Doc writes like the dickens.
Yes. That was a pun.
Ah hah! We finally see the musings of Sam Malone!
It's unfortunately true. The swill that started these comments was written by the man once known as "The Doctor". But I'm old now. A little weary.
I would never have used the moniker of Sam Malone in this story, because the beast that I based the character of Sam Malone on was a beast for all the Right Reasons. Not like my fool of a D.C. friend.
Malone was the real stuff of legend. Friends and foes alike feared the Great White Buffalo, but again, this fear stemmed from all the Right Reasons.
As for The Doctor, I've learned that the legend is only as strong as his friends; an area in which I may find myself slightly lacking (in this area code). But I'm still here, waiting for the Right Time to surface.
Perhaps soon...
If only I could drink right now I would be drinking Whiskey alone listening to Pretty Maids all in a row. Then after I have shed my last tear and ready to fuck shit up, I'd listen to In the City and drive through a casino with freeze frame, roll credits.
You should check it out. Nate's song really fits his story. I mean look past the breaking up with a woman aspect of the song, and it's a strange fit. And then smashing the Casino with In the City, it's classic. But may I suggest some "Bobby Brown Goes Down". Now there is a theme song.
You may not suggest that Dave...you may not.
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