My plan had been to buy an RV with ‘Goose Neck” and a 2500 Chevy Silverado to pull to Arizona or the Texas Gulf for the winters. Well, fuck if my plans are not working. So, I will try a new tactic.
Been trying to reduce my going out income. That meant giving my Dodge Dakota to Zac provided he makes the$200 per month payments that my other son is unable to pay. I then sold my wife's car and bought us both older vehicles. Me, a gas guzzlin' Silverado 4×4 (I can work on Chevy’s), found a Chevy 4×4 Blazer for her, as she was offered a job in Minneapolis.
Now I am working on the other adult offspring living off me. I started by having the 22-year-old see a shrink, as he acts like the dependent mooch on Two and a Half Men. I bought my daughter a book for her to study to get into the “Service”, ASVAB for Dummies. She studies this between her 9000 texts a month. Hopefully my other son will be able to stay free, be as it may.
Death has been a visitor to me in June. On the 15th day of June 1968, I was hooked up in traction in the old VA Hospital in Minneapolis, MN. Waiting. I would call it suspension. Leaving my body, I took these trips to keep away from that shattered femur.
Mr Earley! Mr Earley!! The RN standing over me said “You're not getting high again are you?”
“Fuck no!” I replied.
”Well I hope not, or we will put you back in isolation!”
“Hey, it's where I wanna be!”
“And stop talking like that. Your Mother is such a good person! Behave for her! Anyway, I've got your hypo and here's a special delivery letter, it's from Vietnam!”
“Oh, fun,” I replied, “Open it and read it to me please.”
Dear Ray, I hate to tell you this, Mowry and Phord hit a 500 pounder with your old gun truck. They both died instantly.
Laying the letter on my body cast, she said “I'm sorry, Mr. Earley” and left the room.
The morphine did its job. I went back into suspension. Far off, far away. It was 30 years before I would mourn these fellow Marines.
My plans are petty compared to my old friend and sandblasting partner, Bart. Our business name was “RAYBAR”-took us a couple 12-packs to come up with that sweet name! We sandblasted a lot of houses, vehicles, and other structures. We also rode together. Well, Bart's got cancer. Calls me once a week to give me a report, which doesn’t sound good at all.
Bart has one son, Russell. One spring we were going out to the Farm to get our trucks and equipment ready for the season. Bart's wife Marla asked if we would take six-year-old Russell along. Sure Marla. No drinkin' you guys! Sure Marla!
Stopped at the liquor store to get our favorites and a bag of chips to bribe Russell. Anyhoo we stopped to see Pete, a dairy farmer who owned a mountain lion. Pete warned us to stay outside the “Circle”. Sasha was on a
1/4” log chain leash and had worn a circle in the grass. We thought Sasha was at the end of her chain. Mountain lions are cunning and sneaky. Bart and I stood there, beers in hand. Suddenly Sasha swiped Russell off of his feet. She GRABBED Russell by his butt cheek and was gonna haul him away. Russell let out a shriek that shook both of us up! We nearly spilled our Buds!
Bart handed me his beer and grabbed Russell’s leg and the tug of war commenced. I don’t know who would have won. In the nick of time, Pete stepped out his backdoor and said NO Sasha! She dropped Russell!
That evening when we got back to Bart's house, Russell ran into the house yelling “MA, RAY AND BART WERE DRINKING, AND A MOUNTAIN LION ATTACKED ME!!!” Mama Marla said “Russell, you quit lying! There are no mountain lions in Minnesota! You get in your room!
Russell recently finished his Masters at St. Thomas. Russell wed his sweety. At the Country Club reception, I had a few and thought it would be time to cop to Mama Marla that indeed Russell was bit by a mountain lion, that Bart and I were both liars and always would be.
Mama Marla said she had known this for over 25 years and thanked me for setting things right anyway. I felt good, a weight had been lifted from me!
Then there is William, my black Vietnam Vet friend who lives in Danbury, Wisconsin. 4th of July is comin' up soon. William and I laugh about the time back in 1970, this white woman kept staring at him. We was sittin' on our bikes rear wheels against the curb watchin' the 4th of July Peerade go by. Everyone in Danbury knew William and his family. As I watched this “Chimook Equay” (white woman), I knew what she wanted to ask. See William is black, I mean black.
I says, “William, this white lady wants to know how you got your black ass up here in the White Woodlands of Wisconsin.”
He looked right at her and said, “Lady, I’m an escaped slave.”
“OH!!” she says.
WE LAUGHED OUR ASSES OFF! William and I use to ride together, party hearty together. We know how each thinks, and we have an unbreakable trust in each other! I've been to three of his weddings. Our exes were best friends. We both have Harleys. William still rides a Shovelhead.
“I’m 64 on a '74” he laughingly says!
William called me the other day. He said his Agent Orange cancer was back and the VA said it would be of no use to treat him with Chemo anymore. He was told he has 4 to 6 weeks of life left. He laughed and said, “I’m gonna find out if Jim Morrison knew Diddly Squat about 'The Other Side'“.
I love both these men, as they are my Brothers! They call to ask about me!!! They are both giving me warning that they won’t be for long. What and who could be better? This gettin' old shit is startin' to bum me out! It reminds me of Viet Fuckin Nam! Nobody gets outta here with a Life! Semper Fi! Rat a-tat-tat...
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