lawrence

in wyoming, us georgia boys rented a basement in downtown casper. our friends named it "the peach farm"(georgia peaches... pretty lame state name). for what we were using it for, it was a decent set up. washer-dryer, full kitchen and a bathroom (it had a shower curtain). but that was it. we all bought air mattresses, lawn chairs, tupperware, a small grill and a TV. the plan was to come home every friday, take a quick nap, then head to the tetons/big horn mountains for some fishing/backpacking. but some fridays we were just too worn out from work. as the weekends in town became a tradition, we knew we needed some more comforts to our house.

when our crew got in on friday nights, we hit the town hard; another "cowboy way". one night, while i was DD-ing (designated driver), we saw an old recliner chair and a huge couch out on the sidewalk. we threw them in the truck and excitedly drove straight home. the time was about 2:30 AM.

our basement had only one door, and after that, three 90 degree turns in a compact area. somebody lived upstairs, but none of us had met him. he was an oil digger; in charge of a giant well out on the prairie. he worked for 7 days, then he was off for 7 days. we were also told by our landlord that he was fresh out of jail and was on probation, but could be trusted. when he was home, we could hear him and he could hear us. and for fans of Office Space, he literally looked like lawrence, just a little thicker:


back to the couch. since 3 out of the 4 of us weren't operating on all cylinders, it became the nights mission to get the couch through the series of turns and into the basement. we tried to snake it though quietly, and when that didn't work, we went to forcing it in very loudly. it didnt take an engineer to see that it was not going to happen. one of my roomates, thinking that "lawrence" (we named him) was out on the prairie, decided to go up the basement stairs and into his apartment to open the front door. the couch would totally go down the basement stairs. long story short, "lawrence" almost killed my friend that night.

the next morning, we saw "lawrence" working on his car. me and breaking and entering decided to go apologize. here is the conversation:

us: "hey man, we're sorry about all the noise last night and for trying to get into your apartment. we had just a little too much fun and we really wanted that couch down there"


"lawrence": "aww, its cool man. i was just pissed cause i had my lady friend up there. know what i'm sayin'?"

us: "yeah. it wont happen again"

"lawrence": (staring into space, deep in thought for a few seconds). "Let me ask you boys a question. The couch, 'zit got big f-ing arms on it?"

us: "yeah. i guess."

"lawrence": "yeah. i reckoned it did." (then abruptly walks off, down the sidewalk)

the rattlesnake diaries; part 1

this is long, but a fun story to tell:

i had a flashback this morning. i pass on grass, so it wasn't drug induced. but the flashback did take me back to a part of my life that not too many folk know about; my summer in wyoming. so i have decided, since the flashback was so horrible, that i would air it out.

last summer, i went out to wyoming with three of my young harris college buddies. we all worked for the natrona county weed and pest district, which is a division of the bureau of land management. our western states are fighting a slew of foreign plant species that have taken over the prairies, mountains, and grazing lands. these plants choke out the native species, and most of them are toxic to the livestock. different states have different management plans, but wyoming has the most aggressive one, focusing on eradication rather than management. last summer, wyoming had a "10 most wanted" species list and they employed college students and young adults to provide the labor. we were all on the "backpacking crew" which meant we would spend the work week camping in the backcountry. we would take 4 wheelers and back pack sprayers, load them up with herbicides, and go hunting. i would ride the 4 wheeler as far as i could, then park it and use it to refill my backpack sprayer. the terrain in natorna county (county is larger than connecticut)looks like old western movies; flat and dry, canyons, mountains, and creek beds with vegetation. all in all, it is harsh land. at work i climbed mountains, descended into canyons, went up draws, and hiked the prairies. it was incredible. i enjoyed being by myself, and being surrounded by an unfamiliar environment. but most of all i enjoyed the ability to think to myself as i hiked 15 miles a day.

for those that don't know, i hate snakes. everything about them. i dont even like to look at pictures of them, nevertheless get so close to kill them. wyoming has an abundance of two kinds of snakes: the bull snake and the rattle snake (they look alike and even share dens together). my friend weston has worked in wyoming for 4 summers, and he tells me the stories about the "cowboy way" to kill a rattlesnake. first you make the snake coil up, then you take your 2 foot long sprayer wand and thump the snake in the head which concusses it, and that allows you to place your heal on the snakes head and grab its neck and separate the head from the neck. according to wes, the head just "pops off". the old cowboys told me to avoid the rattle snakes unless property owners nearby asked us to kill them or a member of the crew would be walking in the same area. we were told that if we were accidentally bit, the state would pay for a helicopter to fly us to a hospital and treat us. but if we were messing around with the snake, well, we were idiots and the state of wyoming doesnt make a habit of keeping idiots alive.



my first run in with a rattler was with two other workers. we were working the top side of the "red wall":



we were all in a canyon with walls too high to scale and the snake was in the middle of the path. it was coiled up and rattling hard. we were all watching it and trying to think of what to do. after getting my nerve up, i reacted. remembering the "cowboy way", i took my plastic sprayer wand, reared it back behind me, and took a hard billy club swing at it. of course i missed it, broke my sprayer wand, and watched the snake try to strike my hand (during all of this i was screaning like little richard). the other two were able to take out the snake, and i walked away shaken up, for i now knew the determination of the enemy.



from the next few weeks, everytime something moved anywhere near me, i jumped and screamed. i probably looked a sissy, but i worked by myself so i had no problem with that. so many things can scare you when you are thinking rattlesnakes; rabbits and sage chickens, the wind shaking the plants (there is actually a plant that has a rattling seed pod), and anything that moves. but i started to get confident. i killed a few very easily, some without a fight. by late june, my count was up to 5, and i felt like i was the ultimate slayer of rattlesnakes (i still screamed like little richard, though).

but there was a fight looming ahead that i couldn't see, a Rocky III type fight. i was over confident and cocky, while the mr. t of rattlesnakes was ready to knock me out and eat me...

To be continued...

word

Johnny Cash on mistakes



Add to My Profile | More Videos