I suppose it all started with a broken lawn mower,
an insane work schedule and the offering of a sanctuary where one can literally
tie an aluminum canoe to the back of a 1978 Chevy Suburban with parachute cord,
load the boat with as many people that can fit. Then have a person strap some
short skis on their feet and tie themselves off to the back of the canoe, place
the loser of roschambeuax in the bed of
the truck and start filming as the driver does twenty five miles an hour down
an ice and snow covered road at 10:30 at night. Oh, did I mention the tossing
of fire crackers at the tail man on the skis? Yeah, that happened too.
This
is considered a “Normal” night with the garage gang, especially when it snows.
We are a motley crew of mechanics, cops, fire fighters, line cooks,
contractors, baristas, land owners, sailors, business owners, and various other
rebels and rowdies. Everyone seems to have a nick-name and everyone seems to
contribute to the beer fund, soda fund and food fund. The smoking lamp is always
lit. The television seems to be stuck on either the History Channel or the
Discovery Channel with the sound off and some sort of musical mix from Youtube
blasting through the speakers.
If
you smoke, you can let your ashes fall on the floor and even snub your
cigarette out there, in my case, it is my cigar. All plastic, aluminum and
glass bottles however end up in the recycling bin. For holidays, there is
usually a pot-luck feast with enough food for everyone to take home pounds of
leftovers. If it’s your birthday… forget about it… the party starts by someone
painting a happy birthday sign on the windows in the morning and ending the
next morning when the booze and food is tapped out.
Inside
this denizen of friendship where the walls are covered with hand written quotes
made in drunken stupors or laugh induced highs. The room has a desk, two
couches, a van seat and a plethora of beach chairs. Next to the desk is a
keg-o-rator with a skull tap. Scattered around the walls are house speakers, a
decent sound system, and photographs, license plates, bar lights, mirrors, car
parts, pellet pistols and remote controlled cars. Newcomers are usually
over-whelmed by the decorations, camaraderie, laughter, inside jokes, and
crudeness that is all wrapped up and delivered without judgment, prejudice, or
snobbery. Everyone is equal and all are welcome. No one is turned away.
If
you survive your first visit and care to come a second time, you are welcomed
with hearty handshakes from the men and warm hugs from the women. The children
running around soon learn your name and suck you into their fantasy world of
play which usually involves fire crackers or a motorized vehicle or two… or
both in some cases.
There
are no conversational topics off limits but it seems anyone rarely brings up
religion or politics. I believe it is because none of us truly care about that
shit once we walk inside the haven of stress relief. After all, who wants to
get upset, angry or even stressed out in a place that has been designated via
popular lack of voting as a place to unwind from life’s daily strife? No one
that’s who. I’ve yet to experience a person bring up in serious discussion
those topics but if it does happen, I don’t want to be there for the carnage
that will ensue by them breaking an unspoken and unwritten rule.
It
seems I have become fortunate in meeting this group of miscreants, derelicts,
rogues and renegades. It has truly shown me how much I needed to stop being a
person who lives mostly in his head and that friendship, no matter how close or
distant can make one’s life just a bit better.
Have
a great week and enjoy the Super Bowl if you are partaking of the festivities
that is.
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