When we bought our first house in south Minneapolis we got a puppy and named him Jake. We didn't know it at the time but he was part Husky part Satan.
Beautiful blue eyes though. Isn't there a song about the devil having blue eyes, or is it a blue dress? Anyway, Jake was always full of surprises. This whole blog could be nothing but a list of the crap he wrecked. I can't actually remember a day in the two years we had him that he didn't at least attempt to destroy something. He ended up getting hit by a car one day. We were sad, for awhile.
Don't get me wrong, I love dogs. I'm a freak for dogs!
One day while Jake and I were walking he needed to pause to do some business. I'm not sure what he had eaten the day before, but it literally could have been anything from florescent light bulbs to candles. Whatever it was made the poo rather like butter cream frosting gone bad. When he was finished, he moved to scratch the ground with his back legs to cover it, in that half ass way that they do. He caught the pile with his foot and threw it onto a near-by parked car. A white car. He must have been aware of the severity of the pile or he liked my reaction because he kept doing it and didn't finish until he had flicked most of it. The car was spattered with blobs of poo and dirt with tufts of grass thrown in for flare. There was some left that had been smeared into the grass but not enough to bother picking up and there was no way I was going to stick around to clean the neighbors car. I was doubled over with laughter and barely made it home.
P.S. if that was your car, it wasn't a poo chucking vandal, it was my dog... and he didn't hate you.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Saturday, March 26, 2011
I slept in the car, while driving, kind of.
I'd just like to start by saying not all my stories involve driving.
E and I have always had a close relationship with our Grandparents so when we decided on a whim to drive three hours north for a visit, it wasn't unusual. I was seventeen at the time which I guess would make E fourteen.
E had managed to scam a twenty off my Dad that morning so we could fill the car and hit the drive-through on the way up. I can't remember what we were driving but I do remember the radio reception was hit or miss, mostly miss. I remember this because a Lincoln flew by us and we sang "Hot-Rod Lincoln" for about an hour because there weren't any other songs playing to distract us... until we saw the guy had been pulled over. Then we just laughed. "Boy you're gonna drive me to drinkin' if you quit drivin' that hot. Rod. Lincoln."
By the time we got to Duluth we were getting bored so I thought we should play a road game. We'd pretend to be sleeping as other cars passed us on the left. I kept my right eye open to see the road but the left one was closed and for good measure, my mouth was agape. So was E's. We'd wait until a car was just about to pass and then get into character. We could tell if they were looking or not because of the speed at which they passed. One car in particular actually kept pace for a minute or two and that was just too long for me to keep a straight face. I started laughing and looked over to see a car full of people with their faces pressed up against the glass, mouths agape. When they saw us laughing, I think they were more relieved than annoyed. I bet there was more than a little nervous laughter going on in that car.
With our prank being a success we kept trying it, but the anticipation of fooling another car full of kids filled our stomachs with butterflies and we found it too hard to keep from giggling. I don't know many people who giggle when they sleep, so it was over.
When we got to Gram's we told her of our antics, she chuckled and said, "you girls" as she often did.
We had a nice visit and in a couple of days made our way back home. As we zipped through Duluth we caught a radio station. Hot-Rod Lincoln was playing! We laughed.
E and I have always had a close relationship with our Grandparents so when we decided on a whim to drive three hours north for a visit, it wasn't unusual. I was seventeen at the time which I guess would make E fourteen.
E had managed to scam a twenty off my Dad that morning so we could fill the car and hit the drive-through on the way up. I can't remember what we were driving but I do remember the radio reception was hit or miss, mostly miss. I remember this because a Lincoln flew by us and we sang "Hot-Rod Lincoln" for about an hour because there weren't any other songs playing to distract us... until we saw the guy had been pulled over. Then we just laughed. "Boy you're gonna drive me to drinkin' if you quit drivin' that hot. Rod. Lincoln."
By the time we got to Duluth we were getting bored so I thought we should play a road game. We'd pretend to be sleeping as other cars passed us on the left. I kept my right eye open to see the road but the left one was closed and for good measure, my mouth was agape. So was E's. We'd wait until a car was just about to pass and then get into character. We could tell if they were looking or not because of the speed at which they passed. One car in particular actually kept pace for a minute or two and that was just too long for me to keep a straight face. I started laughing and looked over to see a car full of people with their faces pressed up against the glass, mouths agape. When they saw us laughing, I think they were more relieved than annoyed. I bet there was more than a little nervous laughter going on in that car.
With our prank being a success we kept trying it, but the anticipation of fooling another car full of kids filled our stomachs with butterflies and we found it too hard to keep from giggling. I don't know many people who giggle when they sleep, so it was over.
When we got to Gram's we told her of our antics, she chuckled and said, "you girls" as she often did.
We had a nice visit and in a couple of days made our way back home. As we zipped through Duluth we caught a radio station. Hot-Rod Lincoln was playing! We laughed.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
I passed out while driving.
It must have been in the news or something, cholesterol and sugar levels in the blood of teenagers I mean. I was 16 and my sister was 13. Anytime our mom made a declarative statement it usually sounded more like and accusation, "You're going to the clinic tomorrow, you need you cholesterol checked!" Our mom worked full time when we were growing up so it was up to me to drive us to and from the clinic.
My car at the time was a humongous beast of a thing, it was, to quote the B52's "As big as a whale and it's about to set saaaaaiil." A 1972 Chrysler Newport. There is a well known cliche that describes the color perfectly, but I hate that description, so I'll just say it was kind of a greenish brown. It could seat about a hundred people, but that's a blog for another day. It was in great shape for it's age and believe it or not, my dad used it to tow our 24 foot boat.
I don't remember much about the time period before our appointment but knowing my sisters need to be early for everything and to assume that I would be late in spite of her best efforts, I'm sure there was a lot of... "Heidi! Let's goooo!" To which I'm sure my answer was something like, "shut! up!" We're best friends now, but as kids... not so much. Mom's of girls, there is hope.
It wasn't until we got to the clinic that I learned they intended to take my blood. I though maybe I'd have to pee in a cup and put said cup in a mysteriously small door cut into the middle of the bathroom wall. Sitting in the lab chair at the clinic I was so tense I could have made diamonds, if you know what I mean. The word clench doesn't even come close. I remember hearing the blood pumping through my ears. The lab technician took six viles of my blood. Six! How many tests did they need? After Elvira was finished I was feeling a little woozy, but I thought it was because I was so scared of the gigantic needle sticking out of my arm. It turns out you're supposed to eat before or right after giving blood, but nobody told me that. My guess is, to keep me from realizing I was going to give blood. And anyway, what 16 year old girl eats?
I wobbled out of the labyrinth of corridors to find my sister sitting in the waiting room. While I'm on it, who designs clinics? The same people who designed Cesar's Palace in Las Vegas, no doubt. Do they not want people to find there way out?
We get into the hot car and head for home. We lived about 6 miles from the clinic and the top speed between doors was about 30mph, 40mph if your 16. The next thing I can recall is turning into our neighborhood and my head began to spin. Then it began to get dark. Like I was looking down a tunnel. Tunnel vision, as it were. I started to slow down and told Erica, my sister, to take the wheel. She said, "No! Heidi, just drive!"
"I can't see", I said as my head hit the wheel. I do remember slamming it into park, we were probably still going about 15 miles an hour. This was the days before seat belts were in fashion so basically we were floating in this boat of a car. Erica lurched forward. My vision was in and out, black and light.
Please just drive us home, were only two blocks away.
No, I don't have my license, just go Heidi!
I can't see, just get behind the wheel and drive us home.
No, I'm only 13.
So what! OK, law dog, go get Ike (our beloved next door neighbor).
No, Heidi just drive us home.
Walk home, call mom and get Ike.
No! Go!
I can't see (or speak effectively I guess). Fine, don't let me run into anything.
We get to the house about 5 minutes later, pull in the driveway and the car gets slammed into park again before coming to a complete stop. Erica hops out, runs in the house and calls my mom. Heidi passed out while we were driving, she said in her matter of fact way. Meanwhile... I'm trying to get myself into the house. I take one step inside the door and fall flat on my face. Lights out. She passed out again, Erica says. Let me talk to her. She can't talk. This went on for awhile.
My mom, being understandably concerned, called the vampires, I mean clinic and accused them of taking too much blood. They assured her it was the normal amount. They said to have me drink a little OJ and rest awhile. Info that would have been helpful while I was still at the clinic.
Obviously, I was fine after an hour or two. But to this day it comes back to me every time I have to have blood drawn, which I avoid at all costs.
My car at the time was a humongous beast of a thing, it was, to quote the B52's "As big as a whale and it's about to set saaaaaiil." A 1972 Chrysler Newport. There is a well known cliche that describes the color perfectly, but I hate that description, so I'll just say it was kind of a greenish brown. It could seat about a hundred people, but that's a blog for another day. It was in great shape for it's age and believe it or not, my dad used it to tow our 24 foot boat.
I don't remember much about the time period before our appointment but knowing my sisters need to be early for everything and to assume that I would be late in spite of her best efforts, I'm sure there was a lot of... "Heidi! Let's goooo!" To which I'm sure my answer was something like, "shut! up!" We're best friends now, but as kids... not so much. Mom's of girls, there is hope.
It wasn't until we got to the clinic that I learned they intended to take my blood. I though maybe I'd have to pee in a cup and put said cup in a mysteriously small door cut into the middle of the bathroom wall. Sitting in the lab chair at the clinic I was so tense I could have made diamonds, if you know what I mean. The word clench doesn't even come close. I remember hearing the blood pumping through my ears. The lab technician took six viles of my blood. Six! How many tests did they need? After Elvira was finished I was feeling a little woozy, but I thought it was because I was so scared of the gigantic needle sticking out of my arm. It turns out you're supposed to eat before or right after giving blood, but nobody told me that. My guess is, to keep me from realizing I was going to give blood. And anyway, what 16 year old girl eats?
I wobbled out of the labyrinth of corridors to find my sister sitting in the waiting room. While I'm on it, who designs clinics? The same people who designed Cesar's Palace in Las Vegas, no doubt. Do they not want people to find there way out?
We get into the hot car and head for home. We lived about 6 miles from the clinic and the top speed between doors was about 30mph, 40mph if your 16. The next thing I can recall is turning into our neighborhood and my head began to spin. Then it began to get dark. Like I was looking down a tunnel. Tunnel vision, as it were. I started to slow down and told Erica, my sister, to take the wheel. She said, "No! Heidi, just drive!"
"I can't see", I said as my head hit the wheel. I do remember slamming it into park, we were probably still going about 15 miles an hour. This was the days before seat belts were in fashion so basically we were floating in this boat of a car. Erica lurched forward. My vision was in and out, black and light.
Please just drive us home, were only two blocks away.
No, I don't have my license, just go Heidi!
I can't see, just get behind the wheel and drive us home.
No, I'm only 13.
So what! OK, law dog, go get Ike (our beloved next door neighbor).
No, Heidi just drive us home.
Walk home, call mom and get Ike.
No! Go!
I can't see (or speak effectively I guess). Fine, don't let me run into anything.
We get to the house about 5 minutes later, pull in the driveway and the car gets slammed into park again before coming to a complete stop. Erica hops out, runs in the house and calls my mom. Heidi passed out while we were driving, she said in her matter of fact way. Meanwhile... I'm trying to get myself into the house. I take one step inside the door and fall flat on my face. Lights out. She passed out again, Erica says. Let me talk to her. She can't talk. This went on for awhile.
My mom, being understandably concerned, called the vampires, I mean clinic and accused them of taking too much blood. They assured her it was the normal amount. They said to have me drink a little OJ and rest awhile. Info that would have been helpful while I was still at the clinic.
Obviously, I was fine after an hour or two. But to this day it comes back to me every time I have to have blood drawn, which I avoid at all costs.
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