Story Time!!!
There are times I actually wonder about genetics and heritage and ethnicity. Do these things really play significant parts in our lives? Do they have an affect? Yes, I guess I am getting at the nature versus nurture debate. What makes us what we are? I am Polish. My last name gives that away. And, when I make a mistake, it is in a most embarrassing, humiliating, and grand fashion. Is this because I am Polish? Am I cursed? OR, am I just an idiot that often has moments of complete stupidity... I dunno, but with the following story, maybe you can help me decide. Let's get into the "Way Back Machine" (thank you, Mr. Peabody), and set our sights on the Spring of 1994. I was a Sophomore in college..... Here we go!!!!
The 6-Pack.... The 6-Pack was the student name for my dorm complex. They were six identical buildings. Now that I think about it, we could call this the college version of a suburb... In suburbs, houses look the same. This section of campus, the dorms looked the same. How interesting is that? It was a micro chasm of actual life. I am pretty sure 75% of the inhabitants were actually from some burb, like myself. I digress.
The 6-Pack was undergoing some outdoor renovations. Simply put, there were some sewer problems, and the area kept on flooding. The renovations (or construction), in attempt to fix the problem, actually made things worse. When it rained, what used to be a small puddle caused by sewer drainage problems in the middle of things, was a lake in the middle of things. Walking through this area after a rain became a game. How do you cross Lake 6-Pack without getting your shoes wet? I never won, simply because I didn't care. Let's just say I went through several pairs of sneakers. Stupid me. I wasn't going to let some damn puddle keep me from a direct line to my dorm which held my bed where I napped a lot. I loved those naps.
This particular spring it rained... it rained... it rained a lot. We are talking "40 days/ 40 nights" type rain. My friends and I were thinking about building an ark just to save our own lives. In college, it was every man for himself. Animals and assholes be damned! AND, On the particular day I have taken us in the "Way Back Machine", I recall having 12 hours of torrential down pours. I didn't leave the dorm that day due to constant warnings of tornadoes and high winds. After all, why risk my life for knowledge when my bed looked more inviting? Besides, for some reason, my room had free HBO and Cinemax.... FREE HBO AND CINEMAX! While I laid there with my free HBO and Cinemax watching Armageddon outside my dorm room window, I suddenly had this wonderful idea - "When it stops raining, I want to go puddle jumping." Don't knock puddle jumping unless you've tried it. There is nothing more refreshing, rehabilitating, stimulating, and liberating then a good jump and plop dead center in a puddle. The splash! The look of water spraying in all directions! The feel of rain water (mixed with mud on your clothes) on your skin! HEAVEN!
I conned my friends into this idea at dinner. "Hey, they say the nasty stuff is to the east of us now. How about later we jump in puddles?" I said. "Joe, you two?" responded a friend. "Dude, why don't you just trust me!" "You two?" After this conversation went on back and forth over something that looked like meatloaf, it was finally decided that we'd go do this puddle jumping thing... more like sliding in the puddle thing... After all, most college kids have the intellectual prowess of two year-olds. Regress we did... The clock struck 9:00pm... Clothed only in our grubbies, 6 of us went out looking for the ultimate puddle to jump in a simple drizzle...
We scoured the area finding and then jumping in puddles, sliding on the muddied grass, and splashing nay-sayers. We turned a corner... And there it was! THE HOLY GRAIL of puddles... That lake puddle I mentioned earlier that formed in the middle of the 6-Pack, in that one day, became an ocean. I could see whales striking the surface. I could hear the sound of fog horns. I could see fishing boats hoisting their nets. This, my friends, this was the ultimate puddle... This was what the sport of puddle jumping is all about. This was our Mt. Everest!!!! My friends and I eyed this adventure hungrily, but apprehensively... "Let's jump head first in that one!" I said.
"Dude, you have no idea what could be in there now," said my engineering friend (leave it up to an engineer to see the rational side of things). "I'm doing that!" I said. "I don't care! We'll never get another chance at something like that!" I wanted to be the first to brave Super-lake 6-Pack. This was going to be my greatest show. This was it! THE MOMENT FOR GREATNESS!!! I gaged the distance. I readied my stance. I took off like a ball-player trying to steal second. In a made flash I quickly neared what would be my greatest achievement...I leaped forward. I dove head first. I was flying... The puddle loomed before me... and ... I.... I missed.
I came up five feet short... I missed the fucking ocean. My friend that came behind was the first to brave the puddle.... All I could hear was his feet come sludging by and something that sounded like, "You dumb Polack!" as he hit the water.
What I did do was hit the sidewalk in between the puddle and some grass... I tore my clothing. I scrapped up the right side of my body pretty good (blood everywhere). My face landed in a big patch of mud. It was not a good moment.
I arose and rejoined my friends who were readying themselves for the ultimate plunge. "How the fuck did you manage that, Joe?" One friend said. "You stupid-ass Polack" said another. I shook off the jeers... waited my turn... bloodied, humiliated, and defeated, I nailed that puddle the second time around.
Shit.
Anyway, I am not sure if it was my Polishness that fucked that one up, or the fact I was just stupid. In any case, it was a good time and well worth the added fee we had to pay the building service workers who had to clean up the mess we maid going back to our rooms triumphant.
It was a good day.
The 6-Pack.... The 6-Pack was the student name for my dorm complex. They were six identical buildings. Now that I think about it, we could call this the college version of a suburb... In suburbs, houses look the same. This section of campus, the dorms looked the same. How interesting is that? It was a micro chasm of actual life. I am pretty sure 75% of the inhabitants were actually from some burb, like myself. I digress.
The 6-Pack was undergoing some outdoor renovations. Simply put, there were some sewer problems, and the area kept on flooding. The renovations (or construction), in attempt to fix the problem, actually made things worse. When it rained, what used to be a small puddle caused by sewer drainage problems in the middle of things, was a lake in the middle of things. Walking through this area after a rain became a game. How do you cross Lake 6-Pack without getting your shoes wet? I never won, simply because I didn't care. Let's just say I went through several pairs of sneakers. Stupid me. I wasn't going to let some damn puddle keep me from a direct line to my dorm which held my bed where I napped a lot. I loved those naps.
This particular spring it rained... it rained... it rained a lot. We are talking "40 days/ 40 nights" type rain. My friends and I were thinking about building an ark just to save our own lives. In college, it was every man for himself. Animals and assholes be damned! AND, On the particular day I have taken us in the "Way Back Machine", I recall having 12 hours of torrential down pours. I didn't leave the dorm that day due to constant warnings of tornadoes and high winds. After all, why risk my life for knowledge when my bed looked more inviting? Besides, for some reason, my room had free HBO and Cinemax.... FREE HBO AND CINEMAX! While I laid there with my free HBO and Cinemax watching Armageddon outside my dorm room window, I suddenly had this wonderful idea - "When it stops raining, I want to go puddle jumping." Don't knock puddle jumping unless you've tried it. There is nothing more refreshing, rehabilitating, stimulating, and liberating then a good jump and plop dead center in a puddle. The splash! The look of water spraying in all directions! The feel of rain water (mixed with mud on your clothes) on your skin! HEAVEN!
I conned my friends into this idea at dinner. "Hey, they say the nasty stuff is to the east of us now. How about later we jump in puddles?" I said. "Joe, you two?" responded a friend. "Dude, why don't you just trust me!" "You two?" After this conversation went on back and forth over something that looked like meatloaf, it was finally decided that we'd go do this puddle jumping thing... more like sliding in the puddle thing... After all, most college kids have the intellectual prowess of two year-olds. Regress we did... The clock struck 9:00pm... Clothed only in our grubbies, 6 of us went out looking for the ultimate puddle to jump in a simple drizzle...
We scoured the area finding and then jumping in puddles, sliding on the muddied grass, and splashing nay-sayers. We turned a corner... And there it was! THE HOLY GRAIL of puddles... That lake puddle I mentioned earlier that formed in the middle of the 6-Pack, in that one day, became an ocean. I could see whales striking the surface. I could hear the sound of fog horns. I could see fishing boats hoisting their nets. This, my friends, this was the ultimate puddle... This was what the sport of puddle jumping is all about. This was our Mt. Everest!!!! My friends and I eyed this adventure hungrily, but apprehensively... "Let's jump head first in that one!" I said.
"Dude, you have no idea what could be in there now," said my engineering friend (leave it up to an engineer to see the rational side of things). "I'm doing that!" I said. "I don't care! We'll never get another chance at something like that!" I wanted to be the first to brave Super-lake 6-Pack. This was going to be my greatest show. This was it! THE MOMENT FOR GREATNESS!!! I gaged the distance. I readied my stance. I took off like a ball-player trying to steal second. In a made flash I quickly neared what would be my greatest achievement...I leaped forward. I dove head first. I was flying... The puddle loomed before me... and ... I.... I missed.
I came up five feet short... I missed the fucking ocean. My friend that came behind was the first to brave the puddle.... All I could hear was his feet come sludging by and something that sounded like, "You dumb Polack!" as he hit the water.
What I did do was hit the sidewalk in between the puddle and some grass... I tore my clothing. I scrapped up the right side of my body pretty good (blood everywhere). My face landed in a big patch of mud. It was not a good moment.
I arose and rejoined my friends who were readying themselves for the ultimate plunge. "How the fuck did you manage that, Joe?" One friend said. "You stupid-ass Polack" said another. I shook off the jeers... waited my turn... bloodied, humiliated, and defeated, I nailed that puddle the second time around.
Shit.
Anyway, I am not sure if it was my Polishness that fucked that one up, or the fact I was just stupid. In any case, it was a good time and well worth the added fee we had to pay the building service workers who had to clean up the mess we maid going back to our rooms triumphant.
It was a good day.
posted by "Just" Joe at 5:46 PM
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