My mom's recent comment did remind me of the time that my Forest Service buddy David did try to get me soused at a going away party for one of our co-workers. Even by that early time in my life, my non drinking habits had already formed. I didn't drink liquor because I thought drinking was evil, nor because of some religious notion I had at the time. I don't drink simply because I don't like the stinging, or fruity, or awful taste of brew. Ever since the smoking adventure with my Aunt Jackie's brothers I have never really let peer pressure dictate how or what I was going to do in my life. My mom probably doesn't realize I went too so many parties while I was in high school but one time I was at a party where some drinking was going on. One of the pretty, popular girls in my class came up to me and tried to hand me a beer. I told her "no thank you" in which she replied " if you don't drink this beer with me your not my friend". I told her "Well I guess were not friends then" and I walked away.
It felt surreal for me the night several years later when I helped remove her, not so pretty anymore, lifeless body from the vehicle she had been driving just before it slammed into a great big Pine tree. She had been drinking.
I hope that I am not coming across as some kind of prude who thinks he's perfect because smoking, drinking and drugs have not been a part of my life. Because I'm far from perfect. I have often thought if I wasn't so afraid of doctors and needles I would let some scientist scrape some of my DNA off a bone and see if they could figure out why those vices never attracted me. Maybe if they could find the DNA strand that naturally kept people away from wanting those crutches they could implant it in those folks whom struggle with the desires.
I clearly remember when I was going through my divorce. I struggled a bit with depression for a while. One day when I was setting in my dark house, alone and I thought to myself, I'm going to go get drunk. Maybe if I passed out for awhile it would help me forget about the trouble I was going through at the time. I stood straight up and drove down to the local liquor store in town and bought a fifth of Canadian Club. Why Canadian Club? That's the only kind of whiskey I ever saw my step dad drink so I thought how bad could it be. Getting back home I tore the paper seal off the neck of the bottle, removed the cap, took a big whiff with my nose. Just before I was about to tip the bottle backwards and empty the contents down my gullet I remembered that if I was inebriated I couldn't "respond to routine emergencies". Several years earlier I had signed a document that stated that I would not help at a fire department emergency if I was drunk.
Not wanting to miss out on any potential upcoming adventures I screwed the lid back on the bottle that afternoon and I still have that full bottle in my fire museum collection today. 
When I finally kick the bucket and somebody is digging through my personal belongings they are going to stumble across some fine aged brew too enjoy, and I hope they do enjoy it...
"Oh, by all means smoking, drinking and drugs are all the things that parents worry their teens will get involved in. But have to admit that Blaze decided it wasn't for him and only once did I feel that he had stepped over the edge.
ReplyDeleteBack in High School Blaze got into a little verbal debate with a fellow student, that appeared to be over, until later in the day he got clipped up aside his face with a fist. Shortly after I got a call from the Principals Office that they were transporting Blaze to our local Doctor's Office and would I meet them there. As I arrived about the same time I was greeted by my Son, with blood on his shirt front from a cut on his cheek, rather wild eyed and this big wave and he says "HIIIIIIIIII, MOM." Naturally my first thought was "What, the Hell has he been smoking or what is he on." I was on Ambulance duty at the time, so told our Doctor to clean him up and find out what he was on and call me when they were done and left him sitting in a stooper. About the time I was ready to slap another cut on his other cheek the Dr. called to inform me that, we had a good son, he wasn't high on anything, but had concussion, to get someone to cover my Amb.duty and instructions on what to watch for the rest of the day. Always felt bad that as an EMT, I hadn't even thought about concussion and the worst that my Son was High. Sorry Blaze, Mom
LOL The worst thing about getting blind sided that last day of school was I was heading north to Salem for Boys State in the next couple days. So here I show up at the prestigious event for young leaders in Oregon with stitches in my cheek, a still swollen face and a black eye. That really gives the impression of leadership.
ReplyDeleteMy cold cocking came from at least an honorable squabble. In our high school we had several Special Education students whom attended classes. They often times were picked on and mocked by some of the real low life retards that went to school. One of the Special Ed teachers got this bright idea one year that if she could talk some of the football jocks into mentoring and befriending each one of her special students that it might help to boost their esteem. Several of us guys jumped on the new protect the special education students around school band wagon but only because the Special Ed teacher was really smart. She got all the cheerleaders to sign up for her program first. My kids name was Albert, good kid, he just had trouble learning. Their was no reason to tease this slow young man and come hell or high water no one was going to bother him while he was under my watch. I healed. I don’t know what happened with Albert after my graduation. The guy that turned me around at my locker and slugged me died not too many years after I was out of school. I don’t remember the circumstances of his death.
Ka’mya the moral of this story for me is simple… Always help protect those whom cannot protect themselves even if you get hurt yourself sometimes doing so.