August, 2010
SFC HEADQUARTERS DOCTRINE
"Read by Thousands Round' the World!"
29 August 2010: I am supposed to be in Australia! But Back in the old N.J. Hood
The main reason I am not in Australia over this time period is that I had to help place my mother into a nursing home in the New York City area. And it is a beautiful place. Odd, because I spend years running my father-in-law in and out of homes in Tennessee and Texas until he died two years back. So I was use to the general, well...squalor and problems therein with such homes. This place is different. But, this is not a blog entry about nursing homes, but more so about the changes of my old "hood."
First off, the home is in Edgewater, right on the Jersey side of the Hudson River. The flatlands at the bottom of the Palisades Cliffs right by the water. When I was a kid, this riverside flatland was nothing but rotting shipyards and docks and really tough dock workers, etc. TOUGH area.
I left in 1972. SINCE then, the docks and buildings were demolished and dozens of brand new condos and new shopping malls have been built, from the George Washington Bridge down south to the Lincoln Tunnel and into Hoboken (the home of Frank Sinatra. My Grandmother was a nurse and worked at St Mary's and new all the Sinatras). All my old stomping grounds. This transference is completely AMAZING. River front property! $$$$$
Oh, to have bought a few acres of that rotting real estate back in 1960s. In fact, if you have seen the Stallone movie Copland, you have seen many of the older streets north of and in the area. The movie portrayed this area as country-living. New Jersey metro area - yeah - the Forest Primeval. Stallone was like Andy of Mayberry in the film. I've seen country-living, boys and girls...and It ain't. But the movie was pretty good. Here is a great clip of the Copland shoot-out, up on the cliffs, with the view as a backdrop. Click here . Actually, and least we forget, that the Mayor of North Bergen was once killed in his home right down on the street where I lived. A Sopranos deal. Hudson County has long been know (since the 1950s) as the most corrupt county, or top ten, in the country.
Through it all, up on the cliff overlooking Edgewater, still stands the Stonehenge. Apartments and condos. A fixture of my young-en' life since the 1960s. Saw it almost daily looming on the NJ skyline. Originally designed TO ROTATE. Whew! It was some modern stuff way back when. But they couldn't do it. 
To my surprise, the Stonehenge has a few webpages. A map . And more - Stonehenge . Need I mention the view? It is all of Manhattan. A sight the likes of which is incomparable to city sights I have seen all over the world. Especially on a clear night, whether you are atop the cliffs or on the edge of the water. Manhattan day or night is a unique spectacle.
This is the view my mother has in the sitting rooms of this home. Boats and ships on the Hudson. Riverside Drive. The big city. The front doors of the home are "a line drive double" from the river (that's baseball talk). I saw my first dead body floating in the Hudson, right under the GW Bridge. I wrote about that here on an earlier blog, months ago.
I'd really like to sit right there out by the water in a redneck, camping chair with some sippen' whiskey and get mildly drunk. But, I'd feel a bit uncomfortable out there without my .45. Maybe? The old hood has really, really cleaned up.
Leeeeet's see...where was it we sat and....oh, there's an Outback Steakhouse there now! Oh well. No worries. Adios, Amigo
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25 August 2010: Countering Home Invasion. Part 5 - Trying to escape the Tie-Up.
As a kid back in the 1950s (late 1950s! I am not that old!), I was mesmerized by two New York Daily News comic strips, Dick Tracy and the Phantom. Dick Tracy often had crime prevention tips. And the Phantom? He just fought bad guys, but there were things to learn too. In one strip the Phantom was tied up in a chair by the bad guys. While being tied up, O' Ghost Who Walks had those “thinking balloons” over his head. He was thinking about thwarting the gangsters. He let me and the readers in on his tricks. He expanded every muscle and every part of his chest and body, telling me that once the bad guys left he would exhale and loosen up, thereby creating space in the ropes for him to slip out. Which of course he did. Wow, I thought! And now all these years later, 5 decades, I still have not forgotten that single, simple Phantom lesson in 4 or 5 frames.
All tie-ups are highly, highly situational. Victims are tied to trees, chairs, themselves, fences, who can possible list all the things someone could get tied up to. And each year, some people die from exhaustion and exposure while tied. I guess I do not need to repeat the horror stories. I really would suggest this verbal line before you are gagged or left tied somewhere, be it inside a house or in the woods- “Don’t turn this into a homicide. The police will hunt you down forever, for murder. After you escape you’d better call in and tell them where I am.” They may laugh at you, but at least you tried.
The lessons similar to the old Phantom’s mind balloons are still taught today in theme-related military classes and citizen counter-crime and survival courses. The mission when caught and tied up is to expand your chest with a deep breath and flex all your muscles. If your arms and legs are to be bound together? Try the flexation but also try to make a space between them.
Another common ligature is duct tape. People should use the same expansion and spreading methods to set up and escape from duct tape. Sweat can help break down the adhesives. Spit from your mouth can work on the tape wrapped over your mouth or on wrists and hands. Victims have found sharp wall corners to rub and cut tape and rope. Some people have chewed duct tape.
But you could be tied up with anything handy to a criminal. Electric wire? Anything. Still expand and spread you body as much as possible.
A common object people are tied to is a chair. Some chairs can be broken if you can get to your feet and drop with enough force on the weakest parts of the chair. Some arm chairs or back are "ricketty. Can you break or rip apart the thing you are tied too? Once in awhile in my regular classes back in the 1980s and 1990s, we would do a segment of the class on such escapes. Your partner would tie you up and you try to escape. Then vice versa. It makes for an interesting class. The slinkiest, wigglers made for the best escapees. This makes for some very good experiences and learning. You also see that sometimes your tied-up suspects can escape.
There are some pre, during and post handcuff escape and counter tricks, but I will not print them here, since criminals are the ones mostly handcuffed and I do not want them to read this information here. I teach that it in seminars, where I meet and know the attendees.
Adios, Amigo
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22 August 2010: Countering Home Invasion. Part 4 - The Blitz and Surprise: Kicking In and Breaking in. 
Are your doors locked in the daytime when you are home? Or early evenings? Most people say no. They ask," why? We are home." But when you and yours are home, your most valuable possessions are inside your house. You! Anyone in policing (and crime) will tell you that most house burglars strike in the daytime, hoping that no one is home. So-called burglars who strike at late night are a different breed. The a.m. home invader enjoys creeping around your house and has other plans and crimes in mind. Unlike the door ruse and the driveway attack methods, this cat might work alone.
But if the plan is an evening or weekend home invasion/robbery, multiple criminals are usually involved and they might enter your house anyway they can. Windows, doors, open garage doors, any way. And you won't have your alarm on either.
The safety rules here are lock your doors and that includes your garage door and the door between the garage and your house. Buy your doors solid! Lock your windows. In fact, follow the basic and common tips that deter and defeat house burglars, and you will slow down or stop the surprise entry. Common crime prevention pamphlets will wisely warn you that criminals break into the cars on your driveway to get your garage door openers. The invasion begins.
Make a plan with your family about such a sudden entry. I will tell you one of mine since it won't matter. If I or my wife see a sudden invasion inside the house or even at the door, we plan to yell at the top of our lungs one word. One. "GUN!" Maybe we'll yell it a few times if we can. This way me or in your case, other members of your family deeper in the house have time to react. Get the gun. Have a plan for them to react. If you don't have a gun or two around your house? Well, you're an idiot or have a thinking disorder, or you are stuck in a naive, idiot's regime. Good luck with all that. Part 5 coming soon... Escaping the tie-up
Adios, Amigo ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 19 August 2010: Countering Home Invasion. Part 3 - The Blitz and Surprise: Driveway/Garage Attack An elderly couple ate a very expensive restaurant. When finished, they got into their new, expensive car and drove home. They drove into their residential area of nice homes and pulled into the driveway. The man punched the garage door button and the door slowly open. He pulled into his garage. And with no great haste, hit the button again to close the garage door. As he opened his car door he was rushed by a young with a pistol who ran into the garage, before the door was closed. The door stopped and others entered. This began several hours of torment and hell. They were beaten, robbed and were left alive.
Within a month, after a few breaks in the case, I identified the home invaders. They were career criminals from Ft. Worth. Their MO (method of operation) was to follow elderly people home from expensive restaurants and rush them in their garages before the garage door closed. But this couple were to afraid to press charges in this case. They simply denied the unequivocal identification of the robbers and dodged any further legal proceedings. The couple feared gang retribution.
Fortunately, the men had other charges and did hard time on those. Anyway, home invaders use this method. So, you should identify where you visit that might be construed as a pick up for potential victims.
I too grow sick and weary of hearing self defense instructors and police telling people to "stay alert." Some even say , "trust the funny feelings in your gut." Maybe that was just the mushroom soup? Here are some very specific things to think about and look out for.
Take note to see if you are being followed, from anywhere really but certainly from these "prime hunting" grounds locations. If you are suspicious that you are being followed? Make several sudden turns to test your guess. If you are followed? Use your cell phone to call the police and try to set up a trap. No phone? Shame on you! But, you might drive to a police station, or drive to a populated area to call the police.
In August, 2010 in North Texas a group of thugs were out "on the hunt," trying to catch anyone pulling up to their house in the am hours. Its like fishing. And they netted a big one. They attacked a family returning from a vacation as they unpacked on their driveway. Do you see how this could have been a home invasion had the fishermen forced the family into the house. Instead, its just an armed robbery. But what about such unplanned driveway attacks?
What if you might be jumped right at your house? What if they operated on some intelligence and identified you and yours as a potential and "just ripe" victim, coming home at a certain time? If it is driveway robbery or a home invasion, where around your driveway would attackers hide, within range of ambushing you and/or barging into your garage and house? Install lights there. Clear brush. Watch to see if someone sneaks into the garage as you pull in. Let your eyes run over your property. In some very familiar locales, you might even spot strange cars parked on your street, road or area.
As a rule, don't exit your car until the garage door has closed behind you. This way you can stay in your locked car if confronted. Have a gun. Have a cell phone. If caught in your garage after the door is closed?, Open the door electronically. If criminals interfere with the door opening, hit the gas pedal and crash out. A new door is cheaper than the horrors to follow if taken hostage, and cheaper than any funeral.
Part 4 coming soon...
Adios, Amigo
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16 August 2010: Countering Home Invasion. Part 2 - The Con: The Front Door Ruse
One evening, a few weeks ago in a gated, housing edition in Jupiter, Florida, a man answered his front door to find a young woman acting distraught.
"I am lost! Can I use your phone?" The home owner kept the girl at the door trying to guide her out of the edition with verbal directions.
"I can't keep track of what you are saying! Just let me use your phone."
The home owner said, "don't worry, I just called 911 and the police will be here to guide you out."
"What? 911?" she said, "you just called 911!" With that she ran from the front door and and suddenly two men jumped from the bushes and ran off with her. Guess what they were up to? How did they get onto this gated community? We don't know, but these communities are not impervious to all criminal entries Most likely the woman was going to pull a gun on the occupants and let her friends inside the house.
Many of us have seen the comical exterminator TV commercial where a giant insect rings a doorbell with an excuse to get in the house and use the phone. Funny, but a stranger at the door should be regarded with the same concern as a giant insect.
Bug comes a knocking, click here
These are classic examples of front door ruses. Not unlike all the others you should not fall for. No matter the set up, always be very suspicious of ALL people who come to your door with a story. They might not even ask to come in, but linger long enough for your door to open wider, then barge in.
Remember to have and use a peephole on your door. Some people even have security cameras combing the front area of their homes. (Even a dummy camera high up over your front door bothers these ruse criminals.)
Part 3 coming soon...
Adios, Amigo ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
14 August 2010: Countering Home Invasion. Part 1 It usually annoys cops to hear people declare, "my house was robbed!" Houses don't get robbed. People get robbed. Houses get burglarized, or experience theft. But houses can be involved with crimes such as home Invasion. Simply put, a home invasion is when a criminal enters your home for crime while occupants are there. ACtually Wikipedia has a nice and true definition -
"Few statistics are available on home invasion as a crime, because it is not technically a specific crime in most states. Persons charged with "home invasion" are actually charged with robbery , kidnapping , homicide , rape , or assault charges. But law enforcement has been seeing the increase in "home-invasion robberies" since at least June 1995, when "home-invasion robberies" were the topic of the cover story of The FBI Law Enforcement Bulletin. They state the crime is considered an alternative to bank or convenience store robberies, which are getting harder to pull off cleanly due to technological advances in security. In this same article, the FBI recommends educating the public about home invasion. Before the term "home invasion" came in use, the term "hot burglary" was often used in the literature. Early references also use "burglary of occupied homes" and "burglar striking an occupied residence."
I have investigated numerous such mixed category "home invasion" crimes through the years and I will define here the three main ways in which criminals invade houses while you are there:
1: Front Door: Ruse at the front door.
2: Driveway/Garage: You are rushed attacked as you pull onto your driveway or into your garage. 3: Entry Points: You are home. The criminal breaks into your house. Usually at night, but it can happen in the daytime.
In old school cop talk, this covers the big three - the surprise, the con and the blitz.
Part 2 coming soon... Adios, Amigo
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9 August 2010: What Not To Say...continues. Part 2 of Stop Six Verbal Skills
This is a continuation of the recent entry on “keeping your mouth shut.”
It is unlikely you will be ambushed first and then be interviewed after the ambush in the common pre-conflict, interview. I mean…I can sit here and concoct some circumstances where that might happen, but if a criminal or a soldier will ambush you, your ability to fight during a subsequent interview AFTER a successful ambush is troublesome and might fall into another category.
You could well however, be interviewed first, stopped, engaged and positioned then ambushed. This is what I would like to mention here - a non-ambush, first encounter that could happen to a potential criminal victim, or perhaps even an approached soldier or Marine on patrol.
Interview-to-ambush. Think about the who, what, where, when, how and why of such an encounter. If you are a citizen, you will be approached by a what stall or a ploy. What will that ploy be?
“Spare some change?” “Got a cigarette?” “Got a light?” “Got the time?” “I am lost.” “Have you seen?” "Do you want to buy...?" "Can you get me some dope..." What is the ploy to get you to engage with them? And what is your response?
Him - “Spare some change?”
You - No spare change, “ or “wait, here ya' go. Here's some.” Or...ignore?
Him - “Got a cigarette?”
You - Well, I don't smoke,” or “wait, here ya' go.” Or...ignore?
Him - “Got a light?” You - “No light, or “wait here ya' go” Or...ignore?
Him - “Got the time?” You - “No,” or “ let's see now…” Or...ignore?
Him - “I am lost.”
You - “Where are you going? I know this area.” Or...ignore?
Him - “Have you seen?”
You - “No, where?” Or...ignore
I just made up these verbal responses. Sound common? You bet. They sound familiar because it's the script. The script of life. And you just played your part in the bad guy's play. Actually no matter what you say, any half-assed, fast-talking thug has an answer for you in his prepared script. One line. The next line. The next. You're settling into the position of the con. The stop. The trap. The coming ambush. This is also not unusual for banter with a crazy, street person, someone not cornering you for a premeditated attack, but might twist off anyway.
If you say nothing to most of these people? You are not on the script. You are not engaged. You are not in his movie. You exit stage right.
Of course, if you are in law enforcement, security (and the military)? You ordinarily cannot ignore these first encounters. You must speak, and “read the lines.” You are professional cop in a cop movie. Write better cop dialogue! You'll need it.
Adios, Amigo
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7 August 2010: Critical Contact! A New DVD
The event-based, training program continues. First came First Contact, the first few seconds of a conflict. The hand, or stick, or knife, or gun fight continues and now comes this new DVD, Critical Contact, the first few seconds of a much closer-in, forearm-to-forearm range. This is an indeed a critical time where critical knowledge and training exists.
Click here for Critical Contact!
Adios, Amigo
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5 August 2010: Just Say the word and... Part One of Stop 6 Verbal Skills
I have written a lot about my favorite training program here- The Stop 6 - the six common stopping points of a common fight. And, how it relates to the Training Mission Themes DVDs. Stop 1 is the Stand-off /Showdown / Face-off situation that occurs in many fights and arrests. (This material is covered in that First Contact DVD. (Click here)) But this Stop could also be called in a way, a "no-contact-yet" or right on up to a"very-brief-contact!"
And in a brief summary, some of the main First Contact topics are:
* Interview/Ambush Lecture
* Verbal Skills * Positioning (yours and his)
* The Dodge/ Evasion Drill (stick, knife, empty-hand)
* The Shove Module
* Weapon Quick draws and Counters to Quick draws (knife, baton, gun, yours and his)
* Sucker Punches ( yours and his)
* and...a lifetime of kick boxing training! (whew! Huh?-But strikes and kicks are the briefest of contacts/impacts before the hands and arms get all tangled-up in the closer Stops) Brief contact as in hits and kicks.
In a seminar on this subject, the above subjects are the core of what I teach. In the subject of verbal skills, I discuss various methods of dialogue and dissect the many naive, innocent solutions common instructors offer to students as ways to talk their way out of fight when first confronted by an aggressor.
To prepare for such things, prep such predictable situations through my other favorite progression - who, what, when, where, how and why. Lots of work to do!
In the "what" category, one what question is - what will you say? Well, what's the "movie?" So to speak? What is the script? Is this a sci-fi movie? A western? By this I mean all confrontations are very situational and knowing 2 or 3 pat little, common lines such as, "Now Sir, I do not want to fight," as a cure-all, probably doesn't work. Or, such classics like, "now calm down." I write about these and other lines elsewhere.
I will however offer you this piece of advice that is universal. When confronted, before you decide on some clever, standard diatribe for your script? You must first and always try to come to a primary decision, should you even bother saying anything at all? There are some people who think, "it's Friday night and 8:30 and I need to fight." To these hyped-up people, virtually nothing you say to their thick, or drugged or drunk skulls will matter. The only thing that matters to many of them is that it is now 8:31 pm, and times a wasting.
So, before you start waxing platitudes laced with "now, sirs" and passive suggestivity, make a decision first on whether or not words will even matter. Sometimes? This is very apparent by the bully/punk or the criminal's actions and words. Or, try one line of script. If he responds poorly? Tear up the dialogue sheet because, bubba, it's 8:32 pm...it is now an action scene!
Of course police must blather and plead on and on. After all with cops? It's a cop movie! Stick to the script or you'll never work in this town again! Adios, Amigo
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2 August, 2010: The Training Mission Themes Package
Get the best package going. Tons of instruction. Event-based.
Click here for more...
Adios Amigo
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1 August, 2010: Buffalo Lanes, or I How I Went from Ben-Hur to Ben-Hurried?
I just don't know when it happened. When my city became a rush hour, rat race of cars and trucks. It was once a simple place and a simple drive to work every day. I could leave my castle and be on the parking lot of my job
in 20 minutes. A quiet drive. Listening to Glenn Campbell tapes. Then the locals began building, building, building. Houses editions, Strip centers. Restaurants. New, new and new.
About four years ago, I noticed--it happened. Life as we knew it, changed. On the way in to work? I had to flip Glenn's tape over! Wha? This has never happened before. The trip took more than 20 minutes. Then one morning, I was late. My boss made a smart-ass remark. I have killed better men for less. But I took it. My psychiatrist told me to breathe deeply when I have these feelings, and he reminded me I could only kill people if my government gave me the thumbs-up.
"Join the Army. Travel the world. Meet strange and exotic people...and Kill them."
The next morning I left 10 minutes early, which crimped into my breakfast, lounge-chair time watching IMUS in the morning. I really like the I-Man. He is a cranky, old bastard, and I agree with him all the time. Anyway, I still
barely made it in on time with these extra ten minutes.
Then it began. The Battle of the Rush Hour Roadway. I, Ben-Hurried, took my ol' sedan, my chariot in for a tune-up. Cleaned er' up. Oiled and greased. Filed down the spark plugs. I traded my "Glenn Campbell's Greatest Hits" for a "Black Sabbath" tape. Ozzie will keep me evil and edgy. Yeah! I even bought one of those leather steering wheel covers to stabilize my grip. That's right. My 1995 Ford Taurus was road warrior ready. Me? Alterations? Nah. I'm always fucken' ready for death and destruction.
The first few mornings I tried my nimble hands at beating red lights and you might say and something called extreme lane changing. Oh, it was dangerous. It was ugly. Ozzie was screaming about death and the red-assed devil, and I was fired up. But when I skided to halt on the old slave-joint-- I was still just barely getting in on time. I was still missing parts of the I-Man show in the morning and still barely getting to work on time. If this keeps up, I would have to kill my smart-ass boss when he opened his trap. So you see, I was saving lives by doing this.
What would Patton do?
Then one night as Mrs. Buffalo droned on and on about - who the hell knows what - and the solution struck me. The parking lots. Each morning, as I am sitting there STEAMING in lines of traffic that is not moving, the beautiful pristine parking lots are right there beside me. Wide-open, NASCAR racetracks of corner-cutting and time-saving paradise!
The next morning, I ran a quiet recon. As I tooled into work at the pace of all the other brainwashed slobs, I made a map of all the parking lots. The next morning after the recon, I entered into traffic. 2 miles a stinking hour. But as scheduled on my mission timetable, I pulled into the lumberyard parking lot and blasted my way down to the corner. Ha! HAHAHA! But wait! Now, I must cross the street. I pulled around the corner store lot and honked and butinskied my way across 4 lanes of near dead traffic. AHHH. I got onto the Target parking lot across the street.
"So long, ya dumb suckers!"
I don't get to hear my Taurus engine roar often, but this time, it rumbled like alion on a victory lap. At the end of Target was Gretchen's Diner's lot, then a filling station. I rolled past them all and easily made my first right turn. I had to get back on the street and cussed and moaned until the first driveway for a supermarket nearby. Anyway, I made it to work 10 minutes early, before my boss did! I sez to myself, I sez-
"I have seen the way and the light! No more traffic jams for this operator!"
This plan worked well for about a month. Then day-by-day, week-by-week, other cars (obvious jealous spies to my sheer genius) started cutting off their road trips with dips and turns on the parking lots. MY PARKING LOTS!
My blazed path. Mine!
Jesus, one morning I got into a race with a fiend across a Target lot. I barely got in front of him. Then, small parking lot traffic jams started because too many copycat cars were in my line and forcing their way back into
and across regular traffic. This started to really piss me off.
A redheaded dame in a sports car constantly caused trouble in these newly carved, "Buffalo Lanes." Doing make-up, not looking. Yakking on the cell-phone. She cut a guy off at Safeway one morning, and he hit a Cadillac. These jokers had a high-speed, collision on a supermarket parking lot! Explain that to the coppers! I don't care - two less glory-hounds I have to deal with. Collateral damage! Good riddance I say. But for a few weeks? I left like Ben-Hur in the great chariot race.
I took my life in my hands each morning getting to work. It was fucking-A. I felt younger and invigorated. My sex life returned - I even managed to lure Mrs. Buffalo from her pornography stash! I considered buying a mesh speedo. I sneered and flipped the finger at those worthless, draft-dodging teenagers down by the corner deli.
Then. Then it happened. Gretchen's Diner decided all this Buffalo Traffic peeling through her lot was too dangerous for her geriatric customers. One weekend, she had her dumb husband, Rudy put out barricades across the back part of her lot. On Monday morning, we all sat there in our cars, engines running, stymied by the prospect of backing up, re-tracking and getting back in the slow lanes of ordinary life. That mundane, inferior place were all the mere mortals sit in rush hour traffic wasting their pitiful, unfulfilled lives away. As Ozzie screams,
"What is this that stands before me?"
OH, this pissed me off. I pounded the steering wheel. "No, No! NOOOO!" as Ozzie screamed the same. But, Rudy was on the back porch of the greasy dive, standing there in his little goofy, chief hat. He gave me the finger. This was a ride sign from God that this route was closed. It was closed, but I wasn't through. Oh no. Ozzie agreed as he screeched a piercing, battle cry. Land was being torn asunder!
You see weeks earlier, I noticed selfish millionaires had bought a large lot of trees in route. They had been cutting all the oaks down and running tractors like madmen back and forth on it. If I could get across this corner acreage
I could cut 3 minutes and 22 seconds off my miserable drive. Each day, as I watched, the wild ground became more and more flat. I kept a close watch. One day the dirt was 6 inches tall. Three days later-4 inches tall. Then a
suggestion of a dirt driveway formed. The sight made my palms sweat with excitement. Good thing I had the steering wheel cover.
One morning I took this new driveway and laughing like a madman rode a bumpy and rutted path across the developing field. A few workers looked me over as I passed in a cloud of dust.
"Who is he? Who is that handsome devil-may-care gentleman?" They must have wondered.
"Donald Trump! I am, here and inspecting your work. Make it flat and fast!" At first I looked like I was -you know-officially inspecting around. Then, after a few days, I quit doing that and just drove through. One mental giant in a hard hat waved and smiled at me every day. How cools was that? A blood brother who also appreciates my campaign against a boring life of the unachieved. Each day the site got flatter and flatter for me. Great work, peons!
"Keep up the good work, suckers!" I wanted to yell out the window. But I must remember to remain humble, but oh lord its hard to humble, when you're perfect in very way.
Then we had a spring rain, a complete down pour in one night. But the bright New England sun came through the next morning as I pulled on my leather racing gloves. The Taurus, my weapon of mass transit, purred onto the street and down to the first intersection of traffic hell. I worked my way out and got down to the treeless lot driveway. It looked a little muddy from the rain. I turned onto the construction site. Hardly any men were at work this morning. Why? Where was my hard hat admirer? I proceeded across the site. What was that sucking sound? It was way too muddy. Quicksand! My rear wheels seemed to spin freely at times and my rear end fishtailed!
"I'm sinking! I'm in a goddamn boat!" I curses out loud. I gave it a little gassola. I spun way out and shot mud in a spray. I got a dash of speed and thought I might make it. But the tires just burrowed in. I cussed up a storm and stepped out of the car. The mud was thick and wet. My tires and my feet sank deep into the mush. I hadn't been ion this much mush since Nam.
"Good morning!" I heard. I turned to see the guy in the hard hat that waved at me every day. "Ya get stuck, huh?"
No shit, Sherlock, I wanted to say, but I was nice, "Yeah."
"Come through every day? You know the site manager is putting up a chain link fence next week. Just in your honor."
Half an hour later, Mrs. Buffalo was on the driveway, about to get into her car when a giant, loud, muddy pick-up truck pulled in front of the house. She stopped and stared as I jumped down from the passenger seat. The truck was covered in mud and so was I up to my knees. I had to thank the old hard hat for the ride. A truck wrecker was going to pull my little NASCAR Taurus home. The first regular wrecker couldn't pull my car out of the mud. The ol' front wheel drive had piled mud into the engine compartment, clear over the block. I had to order a tandem rig, wrecker. $500 smackers--gone! Poof! All of this is sucking away huge piles from the Buffalo wallet emergency and fun fund, and worse, my tavern, martini money reserved for the Pats games.
It was already very late and I decided to call in sick. This would prevent a homicide because if I showed up late, I would just have to kill my poor, wisecracking, draft-dodging boss.
"What happened?" she asked me.
"Oh, got stuck in some mud." I motioned my thumb over the shoulder. I couldn't tell her the real truth. I don't trust her, especially after that one time she tried to have me committed that one time. Mrs Buff didn't mutter another word. She stared at me. She shook her head, grimaced, got in her car and left. I waved goodbye to my construction site friend and went to the backyard and undressed on the patio.
Now, almost a year later, I be driving my Taurus along, hit a bump and a huge clump of that mud will shake free and explode onto the road like a hand grenade. Now, my morning lounge chair remains empty, and I, a wounded buffalo, just listen to the IMAN on the AM radio as I leave for work extra early each morning with a thermos of coffee. Me. Just like the rest of you friggen' sissies.
Bye, bye
(We warned you! Sadly, even more Buffalo Nickel's observations can be found here: (The Buff). Please, we beg you. Do not look.)
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The Historian Thucydides records King Leonidas saying this...
"A nation that makes a great distinction between its scholars and its warriors, will have its thinking done by cowards and its fighting done by fools."
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