Julia, I guess I was a bit of an adrenaline junky in those days. I don't have any idea how many jumps I made. One loses track and becomes more focused on perfecting his technique and concentrating on staying alive.
I lost track of Pepsi. He moved far, far away and I feel sad because I never learned his real first name. Everybody just called him Pepsi. Craig changed into serious mode and went back to school to get his degree in physical education. He wanted to teach kids to play sports. Neither of them ever mentioned skydiving again.
There were others in our group too. There was Wags (Wagner) who was a bit of an acid head, Key who was an Indianapolis fireman and Debby The Dyke, a very masculine lesbian. We all hung together to form our opinions in our 20's and decide what to do next. Usually, it was looking for something ridiculous to do.
Once we were all hanging out at Key's apartment sitting around in a circle on the living room rug drinking lots of beer. There were two new girls that Craig had found (for himself and me). There were 8 or 9 of us. After a while Key got up and disappeared. A few minutes later Wags jumps up and yells "FIRE"! Then Key jumps out of the kitchen wearing his fire hat and boots and NOTHING ELSE. He was carrying a huge fire axe and and started stomping around looking for fires. Well, Debby started chasing him around and was whacking him with a sofa pillow. All of us were in convulsions. This was not a particularly unusual afternoon.
I was in stitches reading your story imagining Debby chasing him around...what fun you and your friends had...too bad you can not all get together to talk and see where you all went...maybe they remember this story and laugh also
These friends were all connected through me to The Black Curtain Dinner Theater in Indianapolis, Indiana. We were the oldest continually producing dinner theater in the United States. My best friend Randy Galvin owned it and he and I did EVERYTHING there. We produced, directed and acted. Randy wanted leads and always I refused them. I had too much other work there and could only stretch myself so far. Besides, I liked to jack around too much.
Most of these people I mentioned worked for me at one time or another. Debby was a waitress....Wags was a waiter.....Craig tended bar with me. The others came and went in complicated ways.
Outside the theater, was the best friend I ever had. We grew up together and went to school together. His name was Ronnie Gaebel. We were inseparable. I could tell you a million stories of things we did that were crazy and completely off the wall. Neither of us were remotely shy and would try anything. His wife Donna was as whacked as we were. He and I spent a lot of time trying to "get" each other and would go to great lengths to do so.
One day, after Ronnie and Donna and I had smoked a whole Turkish hookah of killer weed, we got terminal munchies and just had to have ice cream. To do that we had to go to the supermarket. Ronnie drove and Donna sang weird songs which freaked Ron and I out. He and I were about as stable as uranium as it was. Well, we bought our ice cream in a crowded market. That was about as much fun as a root canal. we were standing at the check out counter surrounded by strange normal people and Ronnie was about to jump out of his skin. When they they turned toward the cashier, I let go one of those silent but deadly farts and slid out of the store. Suddenly, everyone was staring at Ron. That was more than he could handle. He slammed the money in Donna's hands and ran out of the store looking to kill me. Oh, he got me back. He always did. We nailed each other back and fourth for many years.
I moved back to California and we kept in touch over the years even when I moved to Costa Rica. Then Julieta and I visited the United States for a couple of years so that she could get to know my former culture. I had planned to take her to Indiana to meet Ronnie but received a call from my daughter telling me not to go because Ronnie had just died from a massive heart attack.
I shall never forget him......never. Well, old son, I am still here and as long as I am so are you.
Scott, what a wonderful story with great memories.
I am sure Ronnie is right here reading and laughing
along with you about the escapades you two went through.
I better get back to bed I need my sleep as i'm not completely better.
Yeah, and he's probably trying to find a way to get me from the other side.
Scott I believe that they who are on the other side really do contact us.
I know I have been contacted and it scared the living hell out of me
until I talked to Ma about it and she reassured that many of the women
in our family have actually been contacted by our deceased....it is not crazy
or frightening when you know they do these things to us living...
usually is a warning that danger could harm us or in the case of my Aunt Bertha that was just watching me play Polonaise one evening ...she is the one that scared me until I described her clothing...I did not go to her funeral but described the dress she had on to Ma...it was eerie at first but is not anymore
Ma said she was just enjoying my music...was a long time before I played that song again
Yes they have nothing material to speak of, but I am sure their parents have a lot of love for these children.
what a story they tell using bits and pieces of nothing to make something a sound of beauty.
Bel got me going on Eons and I have been at it for at least six years
now I am in Critiques Circle and the first story i submitted has been critiqued five times.
Every one was positive with lots of suggestions so I am a happy camper also
I have always told a story but never written them down and it's about time.