Post by Bruno on Jul 21, 2005 9:08:03 GMT -5
Happy Birf-day to Shane. The old man is 93 years old and still kickin'. Funny thing is, he doesn't look a day over 33, and he still acts like he's 19.
It's hard to believe we've been kickin' it for 15 years.
*flashback music*
The year, 1988. 9th grade gym class. The class is getting ready to go outside and play softball. Out of the corner of my eye, I see some 6'4", mean-looking dude slap the boo-boo outta some loser with a baseball mit. It sounded like someone hitting a side of beef with a bat. Everything got real quiet and everyone's jaw dropped. That loser was trying to talk trash to the big guy, but he was having none of it. Ole dude barely got 5 words out of his mouth before it was shut by the leather glove. As everyone else stood with their mouths gaping, I lay in the floor laughing my ass off at the big guy with the bad attitude who didn't take any guff from anyone. My kinda guy. Shane.
*flash ahead 2 years*
The year, 1990. The entire Junior class is sitting in the school library taking the SAT test. We're seated at tables of 4 alphabetically. Wouldn't you know it, sitting right across from me is Shane. (Warren and Young... we're always at the end of the line!) We come to a point in the test where we have a 15 minute break. Almost everyone clears the room, save for a very few. I was one of the few who decided I would just chill in my seat. As I kicked back to relax for a minute, I see Shane pull what looked to be a toolkit from his backpack. I watched as he unrolled the canvas kit which stretched from one end of the table to the other. There were tools in there I had never seen before, much less knew what they were for. After about 2 minutes of unpacking everything in a very precise manner, he kicks his head back and starts fishing for his contact lens. Now I get it. I watch intently as he soaks and rinses each contact in several vats of solution. He painstakingly executed the process with a great precision. I was perplexed by the complexity of the procedure, and the intensity with which he executed it. I sat in my chair staring at him, trying to not laugh out loud at his ridiculous ritual. He never once looked up. I assumed he didn't even know I was still there. He continued the "process", washing his contacts in the solutions with a miniature plunger (I swear to Christ, he had a plunger). After he had put the contacts back into his eyeballs, he began the reverse process. He wiped off all of his tools, and placed them carefully into their respective slots in the toolkit. He consolidated all of the flasks of solution into one large container. I watched intently as he placed the toolkit back into his backpack, save for the large container full of used solution. He inquisitively looked around the room until his eyes settled in on me. I sat back in my chair, with my arms cross, staring right at him... I didn't say a word. After a brief silence, he looked down at the solution, and then back up at me. "Now what the hell am I supposed to do with this?", he grumbled. Without changing expression, I responded with a shrug, "drink it". No sooner than the words came out of my mouth, he had thrown back the solution martini, and slammed the container on the desk. He then glared a hole right through me, almost daring me to not respond. I about fell back in my chair, I was laughing so hard. Maybe I was just a little punchy from the long testing, but that was about the funniest thing I had seen in my life. From that point on, we were best friends. Rarely a day would go by that we weren't hanging out after school.
Here's to ya, buddy! Between picking fights, hanging from the side of rock cliffs, and shooting each other with BB guns, we figured we'd never live to see 30. We both got that beat now, but like the saying goes.... it's not the years, it's the mileage.
Bruno
It's hard to believe we've been kickin' it for 15 years.
*flashback music*
The year, 1988. 9th grade gym class. The class is getting ready to go outside and play softball. Out of the corner of my eye, I see some 6'4", mean-looking dude slap the boo-boo outta some loser with a baseball mit. It sounded like someone hitting a side of beef with a bat. Everything got real quiet and everyone's jaw dropped. That loser was trying to talk trash to the big guy, but he was having none of it. Ole dude barely got 5 words out of his mouth before it was shut by the leather glove. As everyone else stood with their mouths gaping, I lay in the floor laughing my ass off at the big guy with the bad attitude who didn't take any guff from anyone. My kinda guy. Shane.
*flash ahead 2 years*
The year, 1990. The entire Junior class is sitting in the school library taking the SAT test. We're seated at tables of 4 alphabetically. Wouldn't you know it, sitting right across from me is Shane. (Warren and Young... we're always at the end of the line!) We come to a point in the test where we have a 15 minute break. Almost everyone clears the room, save for a very few. I was one of the few who decided I would just chill in my seat. As I kicked back to relax for a minute, I see Shane pull what looked to be a toolkit from his backpack. I watched as he unrolled the canvas kit which stretched from one end of the table to the other. There were tools in there I had never seen before, much less knew what they were for. After about 2 minutes of unpacking everything in a very precise manner, he kicks his head back and starts fishing for his contact lens. Now I get it. I watch intently as he soaks and rinses each contact in several vats of solution. He painstakingly executed the process with a great precision. I was perplexed by the complexity of the procedure, and the intensity with which he executed it. I sat in my chair staring at him, trying to not laugh out loud at his ridiculous ritual. He never once looked up. I assumed he didn't even know I was still there. He continued the "process", washing his contacts in the solutions with a miniature plunger (I swear to Christ, he had a plunger). After he had put the contacts back into his eyeballs, he began the reverse process. He wiped off all of his tools, and placed them carefully into their respective slots in the toolkit. He consolidated all of the flasks of solution into one large container. I watched intently as he placed the toolkit back into his backpack, save for the large container full of used solution. He inquisitively looked around the room until his eyes settled in on me. I sat back in my chair, with my arms cross, staring right at him... I didn't say a word. After a brief silence, he looked down at the solution, and then back up at me. "Now what the hell am I supposed to do with this?", he grumbled. Without changing expression, I responded with a shrug, "drink it". No sooner than the words came out of my mouth, he had thrown back the solution martini, and slammed the container on the desk. He then glared a hole right through me, almost daring me to not respond. I about fell back in my chair, I was laughing so hard. Maybe I was just a little punchy from the long testing, but that was about the funniest thing I had seen in my life. From that point on, we were best friends. Rarely a day would go by that we weren't hanging out after school.
Here's to ya, buddy! Between picking fights, hanging from the side of rock cliffs, and shooting each other with BB guns, we figured we'd never live to see 30. We both got that beat now, but like the saying goes.... it's not the years, it's the mileage.
Bruno
