It was near midnight when we finally decided we should go looking for a part for my friend’s car. I’m not sure I remember the thought process or reasoning behind our decision to leave at that time of the night. I also don’t know why there was such a sense of urgency in our trip. Perhaps the car had broken down and we were planning on drag racing the next day, or maybe we just knew we’d never be able to afford the parts and figured that it was as good a time as any. Admittedly, none of the above implications or thoughts really make much sense; but we were teenagers, we were stoned, and we were convinced that we were invincible–or very near to it. As I write this, I’m lying in bed, typing away on my laptop, listening to music and watching the time round very near to midnight. This was the witching hour that Rob, Tim, and I always looked forward to. It was the time we could visit graveyards and run through downtown and cause all manner of mayhem and almost always succeed in not getting caught. Almost always, that is. On this particular night, as

Continue readingJunkyards and Stitches (Final)

It was a routine red eye flight from Portland, Oregon to Chicago. I was tired; I’d just gotten back from a business trip the day before and it was little more than eight hours before I was called to fly out. Again. It seemed ridiculous to be taking off so soon, but I needed the money and didn’t have the resources to be picky about which contracts I could take. My wife—we’re divorced now—had never had a job in all the time that we were married. As a result, it was nigh on impossible to make ends meet unless I worked like a dog and then—after I was exhausted–worked some more. I was too stubborn to admit that my life was spiraling out of control and that the marriage was essentially over. I packed my bag for what was supposed to be only a three day contract, said goodbye (which, inevitably started a fight), and began my drive to Portland, which was about ninety minutes North. I spent most of the trip thinking about life and how unsatisfied I was with every aspect of it. My job was exhausting and taxing; I could just barely drag myself out of bed

Continue readingZero Hour (Final Version)

One of my girlfriend’s favorite things to say to me—usually after I’ve related a story of death defiance—is, “Andrew, thank you for surviving long enough to meet me.” As a kid, I spent a good portion of my time trying desperately to kill myself. Well, okay, not quite kill myself, but I was certainly working toward being maimed or paralyzed or something equally awful. Between my friends and my penchant for dare devil stunts, it was only a matter of time—and to this day, I’m quite surprised it never actually happened. If you know where Tyler Hill is in Lebanon, you know it’s the steepest, tallest, longest hill that probably exists anywhere in the Willamette valley, with a lovely straight road that goes all the way to the top. That road, as you might imagine, has an extremely steep grade when you’re traveling down. How steep, you ask? It drops in elevation by eight hundred feet over the span of five thousand. If you were to use ODOT grade calculations, that would make this particular road an 18% grade. My friend, Jack, and I were crazy enough to ride down the hill on our bikes; but it was so steep

Continue readingDeath Defiance

 I was ten years old when I first decided I wanted to be a scientist. I wasn’t exactly sure what kind of scientist, but I knew that I wanted to work with things that could go “BOOM!”, and technology that could do amazing things. I wanted to be the first to invent the flying car (Hey, it’s 2009, where is my flying car, anyway?), and I had dreams of going in to space or creating a cure for cancer. It all seems pretty ridiculous now, but that’s what makes being a kid so wonderful; there’s no limit to our imagination and we never question whether or not we can accomplish something. We just assume we can do it. This naivety is not only a marvelous byproduct of being a kid, but it’s also why I just barely survived childhood in the first place. Since I was always convinced that I could do anything, I tried to do everything. Swap out an engine block from a car? No problem! I’ve seen my dad do that a hundred times, why can’t I? Well, in that case no. Let’s just say that there are certain things you tend to overlook when you’re ten.

Continue readingWill you be the one? Will you come and save me from myself?

Cats cannot fly. I know this because I’ve done extensive research. Well, actually, I used to make little parachutes for my cats when I was seven, so it would be more accurate to say that they don’t fall in style. Now before you say that I was cruel, let me tell you something: I was seven. I wasn’t entirely aware that dropping them from my tree fort was going to hurt them. I’d grown up on Tom & Jerry, and thankfully had the presence of mind (or perhaps, just lack of resources) to know that taping a stick of dynamite to one of my cats would have been a bad thing. But the parachutes were amazingly well designed for a seven year old. It wasn’t until a few years later that I realized that the reason the poor animals were not landing on their feet was because they were tangled in the parachute lines. Plus, I usually tried to have someone ready to catch them if the plan went awry (which was always). The victim was usually my brother and, well, let’s just say he wasn’t the best at catching those cats. And when he was, he usually had a

Continue readingTell me all your thoughts on God, cause I’d really like to meet her

 One of my first “real jobs” after I got married (and before getting divorced) was working at a computer store in Corvallis, Oregon. It was just a standard, run of the mill, anywhere USA small shop. We built customized computers and repaired ones that came in with hardware and software troubles. It was the same place that I became certified to work on and service IBM laptops. And no, I won’t work on yours. There was a salesperson that worked in the front office. We’ll call him Rich. I didn’t like Rich. In fact, for lack of a better word, I rather hated Rich. He was insensitive, rude, and generally treated people like idiots. As one of the geeks stuffed in the back room of the store, away from light and the general public, my only interactions with Rich were when he needed something worked on or built. In the time that I worked at this particular shop, I received many requests to fix older computers. Really old computers. We’re talking about computers that didn’t quite have punch cards and hard drives the size of coffee tables, but they were pretty close. One gentleman came in with a computer problem

Continue readingEven the best fall down sometimes, even the wrong words seem to rhyme

One night in May of 2003, I was in Missouri and not too happy to be there. I’d been flying all over the country for the last several months, almost non stop, and I was completely miserable. My marriage at the time was on the verge of complete collapse (and eventually did), my friend had recently died just after I was the best man at his wedding, and I was completely burned out. I was making a lot of money, but I was ready to explode. I had a common routine during those days: I’d fly home on Friday night, drive home from the airport (since nobody was there to pick me up), wash my clothes and catch up on bills and things around the house on Saturday (which usually involved at least a half dozen fights with my wife), and fly out again on Sunday afternoon. I was on the road for the rest of week, and usually had several flights before coming home again on the following Friday. Sometimes I’d be in four or five different states before coming back home. I used to have trouble remembering what town I was in, and I’d usually figure it out

Continue readingSome day, some way, you’re going to finally see, how you treated me, so carelessly

I was sixteen the first time I ever had a major “blackout” from drinking too much. Previously, I’d had a few nights where I couldn’t remember an hour or two, or had a few events relayed to me later that were humorous, but nothing on par with that time when I was sixteen. First, let’s setup the scene, because a story is only as good as its backstory, right? My mom was dying from cancer. I’d just listened to her cry for several hours, whimpering and asking me to end the pain for her, before she was mercifully knocked out by some much deserved morphine. Needless to say, the night was already going badly for me. I called Rob, one of my best friends at the time, and told him what was going on. Without even asking, he said, “I’ll be over in a few to pick you up. Be outside.” Sneaking out was pretty easy; I had a fire escape ladder that I could just sling out my second story window, and climb down to the ground. It was nearly ten o’clock, the house was asleep or preoccupied, and I was leaving by whatever means necessary. At that point,

Continue readingAnd when all my bridges burn, she’ll finally be the only road I know

I lived in a small town through most of high school, so the local constabulary knew me by name. I imagine that if we’d lived in a larger town we would have gotten in to far less trouble. The problem with living in the country is that there’s so little to do. And where there’s little to do, you come up with your own types of entertainment. It didn’t help that my grandfather was a sheriff’s deputy. Now Rob, one of my best friends in high school, was a good kind hearted person. He took a dim view to violence, loved intellectual conversation, and had a ready quip for just about anything you could say. And he wasn’t afraid to speak his mind at a moments notice. We’d been friends for a few years, and generally kept each other from too much harm or too much trouble. For most of those years, Rob and I were friends with a girl named Kelly. Rob was incredibly infatuated and completely in love with Kelly. As best as I could tell, she had no idea. The three of us spent a lot of time together, and he made it incredibly obvious… or at

Continue readingJust because I’m sorry doesn’t mean that I regret a thing…

As some of you may have noticed, most of my stories involve either a great deal of stupidity on my part, or a great deal of pain. Or both. This story is no different. About twenty years ago, I had a go-kart. It was red, it was beautiful, and it was fast. The kart had a 150cc motorcycle engine on it, which probably tells you a lot about the family that I come from. Besides the obvious redneck jokes that could be said about my family (and please don’t get me started), my family is also full of mechanics and perpetual tinkerers. We make things that go fast. We make slower things go faster. We make small things that make big booms. We’re a family that gets in to a lot of car accidents and end up dodging shrapnel from exploding engines in car garages. I’ve even had the opportunity to watch a car or two burn to the ground. These are the same people that have been known to stand behind a jet car at a drag race and wonder why all the hair on their arms was singed off; they think it’s normal to have a car that

Continue readingThere’s a boy in the bathroom who talks to the blade, choking back the rage for it all