Port-A-Potty Scud Missile

A friend reminded me of a funny story today. It's probably worth telling.

I grew up next to a really big hill. It was paved and had houses on it, but it was a crazy-steep grade with a sharp 90° right turn at the bottom. We used to try to slalom down it on our skateboards. It always ended in disaster and occasionally a trip to the friendly neighborhood emergency room.

They had only built houses on it about halfway up when we moved in, but by the time I was about 13 or 14, they had built all the way to the top. They had just finished up construction for the day around dusk when me and my knuckleheaded friends climbed up it to do whatever incredibly stupid and destructive thing we could think of. Construction sites were a hot bed of opportunities to hurt each other. When we got to the top we discovered the port-a-potty that the construction crew had been using. It was right in the middle of the street at the highest point it could be. It was pretty clear right away what we needed to do. We needed to push it over and jump around like dumbasses while the contents streamed down the hill. I mean, obviously, right?

We got it tipped over on it's side but there was a surprise added bonus; it began to slide down the hill. Slowly at first, which stopped the cheering and a slight feeling of concern came over us. Then it really started sliding to the point that we weren't going to be able to stop it even if we wanted to. We all stood with our mouths open when it started to rotate sideways and rolled over. And over. And over. At this point the door flies open and this thing is bouncing and flipping through the air. Shit was flying everywhere as it rocketed toward the house at the bottom of the hill. The result was inevitable and we should have been running by then, but we just stood there like stoned chimps and waited for impact. When the portable toilet made contact with the front door of this nicely manicured suburban home, it exploded in a spectacular fireworks display of blue liquid and shit. It was more than any 13 year old boy could ever hope to see. I don't remember who started running down the backside of this mountain first but we all snapped out of it that moment and quickly followed. 

By the time we all got to the bottom, the superbowl victory celebration had begun. God, we were idiots.

My 9/11 Morning

I told my sister this little story about my morning of 9/11 2001 yesterday that I figured might be worth writing down. This is where I write stuff down.

I never turn the TV on before work, but for some reason, I did that morning. It was just after the 2nd tower fell. As i'm sure it was with everyone in the country, it took a little while for the gravity of it all to set in. I remember robotically getting ready for work and walking out my apartment door. A girl that lived down the hall walked out her door and we walked towards each other to the stairs. I had walked past this girl 40,000 times without a smile or even a glance from either one of us. We had tacitly agreed that we didn't need pleasantries. There would be no "Good mornings" or "Happy Holidays". We didn't dislike each other as far as I know. We just had no interest in interacting. You go your way and i'll go mine. 

This morning was different. When we got to the stairs, we both slowed down and stopped. This girl with whom i've never spoken a word to meekly said, "Are... are you ok?". I said "Yeah, are you?". She said, "Yeah." and we walked silently down the stairs to the parking lot. When we got to the bottom she stopped again, turned and said, "Be safe."

I know that is a pretty lame 9/11 story, but it's mine and i'll never forget it. Our relationship got upgraded to smile status from that day on.