tea with a lot of caffeine

clicka clicka click
Authors Note, added 2007: Later on in this entry, you’ll read about a drug I took as a teenager. While you may read this and think it’s cool, Angel’s Trumpet contains several highly potent alkaloids that, if taken in too great an amount, can kill you. If you’re considering trying this, or any other entheogenic, plant as a recreational drug, I suggest you do some research. “Angel’s Trumpet” (scientifically known as Brugmansia, and sometimes confused with its close relative Datura) can, and has, killed people before! I would never try this drug again, even in well-metered doses.

I taught myself my own typing method. I mean, I took typing in middle school for like a year – you know, where you learn to use the “home keys,” and all your fingers and junk. I never could get my pinkies to behave, so I developed some kind of hunt-and-peck scheme that has evolved into me being able to type relatively fast without needing to look at the keys. I only use the 1st two fingers on my right hand, and the 1st three on my left. I have about a 5 keystroke to 3 backspace progress ratio. I don’t know what that is in words per second, but it must suck pretty bad.

I’ve been keeping up writing to Frank. I actually sent him some excerpts from the under-construction “Cast of Characters” page. Wow, that’s the first time I’ve actually linked that page without masking it. That must mean I’m getting more confident that it’s nearly ready to go. I only need a few more pictures and hyperlinks and it will be completely finished. Anyway, I copied my section, as well as his and our folks’ into the latest letter – hopefully he’ll get a kick out of it. If it’s your first time reading the page, please forgive me for it’s incompleteness.

The Strokes show is tonight, should be a good time – but a late night. I hooked the FCG up to a timer yesterday, so that she comes on from 7pm to 9pm each night, whether we’re home or not. At least that way the neighborhood can appreciate the sweetness that she is. I don’t know what to write.

I guess it was about 4 or 5 in the afternoon and we had been talking about this all day at school. The other day a friend of my friend had prepared the Angel Trumpet tea by boiling the flowers and plant parts in water. I have no idea how much was boiled, or for how long. The resulting white liquid was poured off into an empty wine bottle. The stuff didn’t really have a smell, but it looked mucous-like, so not appetizing enough to drink straight from the bottle. We decided to mix it with some Sunny Delight. Sunny Delight is very syrupy to begin with, and I think the tea was also somewhat syrupy – so the resulting drink was disgustingly sweet and extremely thick. I filled a medium sized glass about a quarter full with the tea, and the rest with Sunny Delight (I wasn’t sure how much to take, but figured that would be enough to judge for later attempts). Downed the whole glass and a little leftover from my friend’s glass.

Next, it was off to the football game. I felt nothing at all for the entire first half. Around halftime I began to feel very tired, and eventually laid down on the bleachers. I may have fallen asleep, but I am not sure – it seemed like a long time that I was “sleeping,” but it probably only lasted about 10 minutes at the most. When I finally sat up, the tea was starting to work.

Things from this point on are fuzzy at best. I can recall events from this point and a few hours later, but after that I have NO recollection of anything – and rely on others’ accounts of how I was acting, mixed with fleeting memories, fragments.

Immediately I felt “high.” Stoned more like it, although not as mellow. At first very “bouncy,” like having too much caffeine. Soon, I began to experience hallucinations. Small things at first, way off in the distance. The glint of the field lights off the marching band instruments across the field became “dancing stars.” Already things are beginning to get hazy in my memory. The game ended with me still experiencing small visuals and chattering away, talking non-stop about everything I saw.

In the car on the way home, I continued talking. I was now seeing hallucinations on a grander scale, and beginning to interact with them, i.e. holding pens that did not exist, grasping for butterflies that weren’t there.

Once out of the car and at home, my motor skills and balance began to fade. I tripped over a baby-gate blocking the hallway entrance and fell face first into the carpet. At this point the carpet began swirling up around me, and I was sinking fast into it – continuing to fall downward completely surrounded by carpet. Only my telling myself that it isn’t possible to swim in carpet made me get up, and I was still trying to play this off in front of my parents.

Kind of faint here, but I remember sitting in my room with my friends and them trying to convince me to shut up and stop acting so conspicuous. I recall going into the living room with a cassette tape and trying to insert it in the wall and press the imaginary play button. At this point I realized there was no tape player. It would play out like this for most of my memorable portions of the trip – me doing something, and then sadly realizing that it is all a hallucination, not real.

By this point, my parents have called poison control and I am back in my room. No more coordination, can’t tie my own shoes – but I have to go to the hospital they say. Someone ties them for me.

Remember singing loudly and yelling as we leave the house and get in the car to go to the hospital. Parents telling me to be quiet, but I am not really listening, or can’t really stop. No recollection of the drive to the hospital. Next memory I am in the parking lot with Kyle, asking him if he feels this, did he drink enough, why he is not tripping like this?

Fast forward to the last memory that I can place in a timeline. Next memories are all blurred together in time, and fragmented. I can place them in two groups, “hospital” and “home.” I remember getting the little hospital bracelet, and looking at my mother cry. I remember seeing my mom cry a lot that night, and feeling so bad.

It is somewhere at this point that I realize I am no longer in control of my actions/thoughts. I have become a non-active participant in whatever the drug decides to do with me. I recall feeling frustrated, thinking how I should be acting, but then acting the exact opposite. No chance I could play it off. My mind could think how to act, but it could not follow through.

I remember sitting in a room with my dad, and the lady asking me questions about things. What’s my name, what year is it, who is president. I got most of it wrong, saying it was sometime in the 70’s and that Reagan was still president. Strange thing was that I thought I was right, my mind did not tell me I was wrong. Coming close to the peaking hours of my trip. The woman asked her questions, and it seemed like an eternity happened between each word she spoke, so I assumed she had stopped – and kept getting up to leave. My dad would grab my arm and tell me that she was not finished, I kept asking why she was taking so long then.

No more memories that make sense. Aware of doctors talking about the drug test results, aware that I was in one room for a while then switched to another. Bed had high metal rails on either side. Remember mom and dad sitting on chairs in the room, mom crying – dad looking like dad. Recall writing a letter to Robin, and dropping the pen only to have it melt into the rails on the bed – then realizing there was no pen or letter.

Had to take a pee test at some point. Remember flowers on the wallpaper. Remember being VERY thirsty, and begging dad for some water from the fountain – he said there was no fountain. But I insisted I saw the fountain by the flower wallpaper. Remember being given some type of container to pee into – my mind turned it into a large gallon container like milk comes in, and I somehow thought that I was supposed to fill only the handle portion. Remember a doctor saying “This is water.” I must have filled the thing with water – don’t know how I ever did give any pee – but obviously I did, most likely with dad’s help – poor dad.

Total loss of memory here. Don’t know how long. I’ve been told stories of how I acted, but I don’t remember directly so I’ll leave them out. I am still at the hospital and I hear people talking about stomach pumping and other things.

Next memory is at home, it’s still night – but I have no idea what time it is. They must have thought I was coming down enough to go home. My mom and dad let me go in the room and go to sleep, but I don’t think I slept.

I remember so many hallucinations at this point. I considered the “peak” to be the hours that I can’t recall at all. And this to be then slightly coming down side of the trip, but it is at this point that I have the most hallucinations (or perhaps it’s only that I can recall them all at this point).

I see my cat sleeping on the bean bag, she has had a litter of kittens and she is licking them clean – they are newly born. I think this is actually a memory from childhood when my cat actually did have kittens at the foot of my bed while I slept. I climb off the top bunk to go pet the new kittens. But when I touch them, they explode and shower the room with confetti – which makes me sad for killing them.

I remember roaming the house thinking Kyle was still there, and that his mom was coming to pick him up. I remember going outside and saying goodbye to him as he left. I think I was outside, I am not sure. I remember opening the freezer and seeing a frozen face screaming at me. I remember doing pull-ups on my bunk bed.

At one point I tried to make a phone call but realized I didn’t have the phone. So I figured that the phone had somehow “melted” into my hand. I proceeded to map out where the numbers would be on my palm and try to “dial” someone with my hand.

No more memories until morning. Don’t know if I ever slept or not.

In the morning I am still hallucinating, but I now realize that the things I see are tricks of my mind. Now I have become a little more in touch with reality. I remember eating a bowl of cereal and talking to someone on the phone, with my head cocked to keep the phone crooked at my ear like you do when you’re using your hands and can’t hold the phone. The phone dropped into my bowl of cereal, and I jumped – realizing there was no cereal or phone.

Remember not wanting mom and dad to find the remainder of the tea in the wine bottle, and surely not wanting to take any more – so I stuck it in the front of my pants and went outside, against my parents warnings. I think they sent my brother into the yard to watch me. I only walked to the corner of the street and poured the milky liquid in the grass, dropping the bottle and walking back home. Hallucinations continued as I saw my dog, flying with wings, swooping around overhead.

Sometime in the morning the police came, and asked me questions – did I want to press charges against JJ – no, of course not – I willingly took the stuff. I was pretty composed at that point, but could not stop my mouth from asking about the people with “stars on their head” that I saw in the back of his cruiser. I think the “stars” from the football game the night before had been ingrained in my trip as a reoccurring theme. At the hospital I saw little “gnome” people on the ceiling with stars rotating and spinning above their heads.

The rest of Saturday is blur. Nothing really to remember. The drug was wearing off. At some point my father and I went to visit Kristina in the hospital, she had her tonsils out or something. I was almost normal, but everyone and everything seemed to be covered in a think coating of green slime. This hallucination was persistent the whole time I was at the hospital visiting Kristina. I really don’t have full memory of the day, pieces are missing and out of order.

I think the trip was gone completely by early Monday morning. A near three day trip, with hallucinations that were so real I could not distinguish them from reality. I was immersed in another world, and could not get out – even if I had realized there was an “out.”

Never, never try this drug.

my brother the squad leader

i'm gonna sit right down and write me a letter
Got my first letter from Frank at bootcamp. Reading it made me quite emotional, and not because it was an emotional letter, but for some other reason. Maybe hearing from him that things are hard, that he’s having a hard time and he sometimes gets lonely. Maybe reading that he was appointed squad leader of his barracks, or that he and Angela plan to get married soon after he’s out. Maybe just the simple fact that he wrote me a letter, and talked to me like a friend. It’s not like we ever hated each other, or ever weren’t on speaking terms – but we’ve been far from that “brotherly” vibe for quite some time. Anyway, I’m proud of him.

He mentioned how much he likes to get letters, as they’re his only contact with the outside world. So I started the “write Frank a letter a day” campaign, I’ve been doing it so far – although it doubles my required writing per day – so the blog entries may suffer a little bit in terms of length (just to give my typing fingers a rest).

Sharaun’s really been into the latest Strokes album, and she successfully lobbied the crew this weekend and got us to commit to the show tomorrow night. She bought the tickets last night, and we’ll be rolling over to the bay after work to catch the show. We saw them last year (nearly a year to the day, as we caught them on Halloween), and the show wasn’t that impressive to me.

Don’t get me wrong, I love their music – but the show was kinda uninspired, and they only had one 40min album at the time, so it was a short set. And, Julian cussed so much it was comical. You know, he’s one of those “‘fuck’ isn’t good enough as a stand-alone word, so I’ll insert it befuckintween the syllables in my words” kinda guys… for some reason I didn’t like that. It was like New-York-rock-star-to-the-extreme.

<begin tanget>
Julian Casablancas is possibly the best rock-‘n’-roll lead singer name ever. Even if he wasn’t in the Strokes, he would surely have to be a rock star. With a name like that, you’re destined to be. Casablancas… with an ‘S’ at the end… smoooove!! I’m so jealous.
</end tangent>

But, hopefully with this new album (which is great, by the way) they’ll have some more material – and the show wasn’t bad… it just wasn’t one of the brighter spots in my concertgoing career. So, we’re going – and I’m listening to the album now to get pumped. I’ll a review of the evening posted in Wednesday’s blog.

Two projects came very near completion this weekend. The retaining wall is about 3/4 backfilled, with the slope graded and all. Eric came and helped me on Saturday morning, which I thought was totally awesome of him. Now I owe him work. Then later on Saturday, Anthony and Ben came over and we finished assembling the FCG, and got it running. We did our first test at night with the blacklight, fog machine, and music. The results were far better than I could have imagined. Neighbors were coming out to check it out, and we got several compliments on her. We must have stood in the street for like an hour and half, just watching the ghost and drinking beer. It really is that cool. I also nearly finished the cemetery fencing, so things are definitely on track for all decorations being up and operational by this coming weekend.

I’ve made my backyard schedule a little more aggressive, after seeing how much work I was able to get done this weekend. I think I can have the entire wall backfilled by this coming weekend. Then, I plan to call the dirt movers and have them cart away our excess dirt during the week before Halloween. I know it’s gonna be close, but I think it’s doable. That way, at least my yard won’t look quite as “under construction” for the big Halloween party. Ahh… there’s a chance it’ll happen… maybe…

Dave out.

eating & prioritization

corn at the ready!
When I sit down to eat a meal, I subconsciously prioritize the food items before digging in. I mean, if there are several types of food on the plate, my goal is to have my last bite be of my favorite one – therefore I finish the meal with the best taste in my mouth. This practice involves a certain amount of “pacing” and forethought. Say for example there are three items: corn, mashed taters, and steak. Now, Dave loves steak, and taters, and even corn… but within seconds my brain is taking stock of the grub and spitting out my strategy. One bite of steak, maybe dipped in taters, then two or three bites of corn. The corn should shrink at approximately a 2:1 ratio compared to the steak and taters. It’s hard to decide between the steak and taters for who gets to finish last, but usually the steak will be smaller, so you have to gear ratio them correctly to each other in order to make them finish simultaneously.

Sometimes, however, certain “sleeper” foods require on-the-fly, in-meal, re-prioritization. For instance, let’s pretend I start my three-part meal mentioned above, and dig into the corn. What’s this? There’s some kind of spicy thing in this corn? And it also has little baby potato pieces in it? Man… this corn is awesome! Now the brain takes over and immediately begins running a secondary meal endgame simulation. Is this corn good enough to shake up the current food standings? Now we shift gears, suddenly I begin eating potatoes over corn at a 3:1 ratio. Mind you, this kind of re-prioritization can occur several times during a meal. I mean, it would have to, wouldn’t it? There’s nothing worse than ending a fine meal on a sour note of refried beans or something… you always want that last hunk of chimchanga to be the last thing delights your palette before pushing away from the table, fully satiated. At mealtimes, my brain is just a statistician for my gut, and a pretty accurate one at that.

Last night Ben and I worked on the Halloween display. I “aged” some tombstones using spraypaint, water, and other means. We spread Woolite on the fabric for the flying crank ghost, and we made more progress on the cemetery fencing. I also carved another tombstone epitaph with the Dremel: “Sharaun. She’s gone.” short and sweet. The projects are progressing nicely, and I am on track to have them all set up by next weekend.

OK, that’s enough for me for today. I gotta stop writing so much, blogs are getting long!

how i graduated

i'm educated... this paper says so!  where do i pick up my check?
We (Anthony and I) completed some more for the Halloween display last night. We finally decided how and where to hang the flying crank ghost motor assembly. We used plumber’s tape and screwed right into the stucco on my porch roof (it will hang in front of the window on the right in this pic, taken when our house was still being built). We also mounted a blacklight so that it’s out of sight and shines on the ghost. The whole idea worked out great, the motor assembly is out of view, and all the trick-or-treater sees is the moving ghost, bathed and glowing in UV light. Now I just have to build the ghost! We also built a fog chiller, which neither of us was too impressed with… so I may change the design; as well as cut PVC and began drilling boards for the graveyard fence. I plan to have all the decorations up by this weekend, so I can at least get a week’s worth of use out of them before Halloween. Sharaun and I also need to get a pumpkin and carve it. Can’t forget that! Owell. In the middle of hanging our FCG, I got a phone call from Zeb. OK… who is Zeb? Rewind to college, my three closest buds are Thanh (10), G.C. (Greasy Cuban), and Chris (image courtesy of G.C., unfortunately Chris isn’t pictured). Zeb is Chris’ friend from way back, and he and I occasionally chat. Anyway, he’s in the Navy and has something to do with the Blue Angels…. which is totally cool to me. I always forget to call people back, sorry Zeb.

I was thinking the other day about college, and how the heck I ever got out of there.. I kinda managed to pull one over on UF…. ummm… or pull a few over, I guess. I got that extra 1 credit for an “independent study” with Dr. Carnes, which was actually nothing – I did absolutely nothing on that, didn’t even move a muscle in effort or fire a synapse in thought. My senior project was an absolute joke, although I spent a good deal of time on it – it was really very simple. (I desinged a Bike Safety course for gradeschool kids, using Macromedia…. with like 5 other people.)

Also, we managed to get that “Navigating the Internet” class accepted as a technical elective. We knew that several technical electives fall under one generic course number, and without actually going back and researching it – there’d be no way for them to tell whether that number on the transcript was “Advanced Data Structures in C++”, or “Navigating the Internet.” (Heard they changed the numbering system the very next semester though!)

Not only that, but I was able to swing getting that COBOL programming course accepted as a tech elective. I mean, writing COBOL programs never took over 10 minutes, no matter how complex, and I got an easy A in that one. And then there was that summer course at UCF, it was a 4000 level course taught under the Mathematics Department, but it was called “History of Mathematics” (actual syllabus from when I took it! I love the internet.) and was mainly for future education majors. Thing is, UF doesn’t see anything but the course number, so it’s their guess as to what class it might have been. Could have been “Galois Theory and Elliptical Curves” for all they know. Got a fast and easy A in that one as well.

Then I also got that 1 credit for my so-called “internship” at Raytheon. Which was really nothing more than me coming in late and leaving early for 5 days (sometimes 4) a week. I wrote one DOS batch file during that “job,” nothing more. What’s more, I got paid good money to sit at that desk and download Grateful Dead mp3s all day (note: most proxies block that link, since you can grab gigs of mp3’s there so easily – not Raytheon!). Also, I managed to “recalculate” my GPA based on BCC and UF courses being weighted equally, giving me a nice round 3.01 overall average… when my UF GPA was a little lower. Looked much better on the resume.

I am glad for that Internet class though, for my final class project – I had to “create” a web page, so I retooled my Beatleg site using CSS and Java, and made it much more accessible and readable. Still using that redesigned page today. And, although I don’t sell them anymore, I wrote my cd sales customer database during my “internship” with Raytheon. So at least I made some money off of all my loafing…

Having just outed myself as a charlatan, I must say in my defense that I worked very hard in school… no… I’m for real… I did. Honest.

Dave out.

talk to you tomorrow, when i’m rich

Gort! Klaatu barada nikto.
Strap in, I’m gonna jump around from subject to subject here…

Kristi was nice enough to do an Evite for our upcoming Halloween Bash. That way we can track who’s coming and whatnot. It’s a pretty cool service, I wonder what they get from it? Obviously they harvest street addresses and phone numbers for junk mail/calls – so I guess that’s how they make their money. Anyway, I thought it was super cool of her to hook that up.

Holy crap this cracks me up. Some of my favorite lines would have to be Remember, you will sleep with the hat on. and Some abductees report success with helmets using only 5 sheets of Velostat but 8 sheets are recommended as the aliens transmit a tremendous amount of energy. Good thing the only major skills you need to make the “screen” were learned by most in kindergarten: Dexterity, use of scissors, adept at cutting and shaping paper… because the aliens may have taken away your mathematical faculties. Something else I find funny is that the “inventor” of this “hat” has chosen to use tape to secure the telepathic-thought-blocking Velostat liner to the hat. Dude, could you at least do the abduction-paranoid a small favor and make their insanity a little less obvious by maybe suggesting they sew the junk into the hat liner or something? The guy who owns/runs this site also maintains another site which hosts tons of creepy images drawn by children who have supposedly been abducted by aliens. To me, it’s a sad site. (Sorry for the B-List Benz)

My God, I’m listening to 3wk’s classic feed right now, and “Friday on My Mind” by the Easybeats is on. Talk about a serious flashback. I can remember listening to this song in 7th grade, when Kyle had moved to Cocoa. It was the first day he met Amber, she was babysiting near there – and we walked the couple miles to go visit her. Hearing the song, I can almost feel the sun on my back as we walked… almost hear the road crunching under our feet. So insane how music can bring memories back like that. Music and smells really work for me.

I know none of that makes much sense to anyone who doesn’t know anything about Kyle, Amber, etc. So lemme give y’all a lightspeed primer. My family moved to FL from CA in ’88. The real estate agent who sold us our house had a daughter that was my age, Robin. Robin and I began dating; I met, and formed friendships with, Kyle, Joey, and Andy. Amber was Robin’s best friend. The boys met Amber, Kyle dated her first, then Joey, then Amber and I simultaneously cheated on Joey and Robin with each other. Everyone broke up (well, Andy never dated anyone), and I started dating Amber’s friend Charla. There ya go, the soap opera of my pre-teen romances – from 7th grade through 9th. (Here’s a flowchart for those who were confused by the Friends-esque hookup party we were having.)

The lottery is up to 60-some-odd million tonight, I am so winning. Nevermind that I haven’t bought my ticket yet – I’ll get some on the way home. Talk to you tomorrow, when I’m rich. Dave out.

fiery, but no fire

this word sucks... like your mom
Tuesday, w00t. First off, I was up too late last night, but I did find a link that was so funny I was laughing out loud while the rest of the house was sound asleep. If you’ve never been to Something Awful, you’re missing out – it’s a pretty funny site. I happened upon this article last night, and I was rolling. It’s an old writeup about some first impressions playing the PC game “The Sims.” Yeah, it’s kinda long – but I thought it was worth it. If you don’t laugh, you’re dumb. If you dig the author’s writing, you might wanna check out this one too.

I’ve decided that I want a movie computer. You know, the ones where every task, however minimal, is visually exciting? I mean, even checking e-mail on some movie computers involves a 3D mail envelope zooming out of your inbox and bursting into a firework before showing it’s contents. Passwords are always stored in a file called “secret_passwords,” and “erase hard drive” is a valid DOS command. Also, everything is so much more intuitive – if the computer is tied to a bomb that is about to explode, there’s a nice screen with an animation of a slowly burning fuse leading to one of those Spy-vs.-Spy style bowling-ball bombs (and usually an input box marked clearly as “last chance abort code: enter here.”) When you load a virus, actual little pathogen-shaped cartoon things fill the screen as they eat data. When the virus is done, the computer screen flashes a red skull and crossbones to let you know you’re in trouble. There is no Windows in movie computers, they use some crazy movie-PC-GUI that is all spinny and shiny and pretty. You can execute almost any sequence of tasks, regardless of complexity, with the press of a single key. You can apparently zoom in on and simultaneously enhance images by pressing ‘K.’, and at the same time hack into the Pentagon with a USB stick. One time on Alias they even flew to Switzerland to retrieve a “data packet,” they brought it back in a paper bag… huh?

My movie computer would be so awesome. I would put negatives in the floppy drive, and have them print as high-res photos from my printer – all without pressing a key or moving the mouse. There would be commands like “porn: go!,” and “download good music” that would launch from DOS into some crazy fly-by animations of my requests traveling the internet and scooping up the data I want (kind of like Chopper Command, but cooler looking).

I don’t like that the word “fiery” doesn’t contain the word “fire.” And with that, I’m out.

a dusty lunch

i love halloween!
Not a bad weekend. Spent a lot of time working on tombstones (I’ll post some pictures eventually). The hot tub arrived at Steve & Ragan’s place, so I pitched in a little to help erect the gazebo that sits around it. No work on the backyard this weekend, as I was occupied by other projects. I did, however, finally find a suitable strobe light for the Halloween display. And I stole some large pieces of cardboard, which Steve’s gazebo roof was shipped in, to make a lifesize knife-wielding man cutout. The cutout gets reinforced with some wood and painted black, and the strobe light goes behind it – the effect should be pretty creepy. Speaking of Halloween, the invite for the Halloween party went out today… watch the blog for full details of the celebration.

In a musical roundup, there’s a sweet article about DCfC over at the Onion’s AV Club (conservatives: beware the Dan Savage column). Also, I found a really interesting Radiohead-related item. Stephen Malkmus (of Pavement fame) and his band, the Jicks, opened for Radiohead on some of their North American gigs recently. Malkmus is known for keeping a tour diary when he’s out on the road, and it’s a really interesting read for a Radiohead fan. I just thought it was totally cool to hear someone who I consider to be super musically talented talk it up about someone they consider to be super musically talented. Also on a musical-slash-Range-Rover note, Ben and Anthony took the Disco out 4x4ing again this Saturday and, true-to-form, Ben has already whipped up a nice video montage of the outing, with one of the best cuts from the new Snow Patrol album as the soundtrack. That about does it for the music roundup. Oh, I forgot to mention my Steve/music story. Steve is often stuck riding in my truck and being subjected to indie-immersion. One of his favorite comments in reference to any singer with that telltale indie-falsetto voice, is: “I bet this guy got beat up a lot in high school.” That cracks me up, and it’s probably true too…

I got a story for ya. Today, I was happily enjoying a thrifty lunch of leftovers at Steve’s house. We were just finishing up with the eats, and watching the Fresh Prince of Bel Air – when my cellphone rang. “What’s up Anthony?” “Dude, we got stuck.” Yeah… so let me debrief y’all. The 4×4 video from that I linked above was taken by Ben on Sunday. He and Ant headed out to the local 4×4 park and put the Disco through the paces. Apparently, they were pretty rough on it (as evidenced by the video), and they actually broke off some of the plastic on the undercarriage. So, today at lunch they headed back out to the 4×4 park to retrieve the broken pieces. After the successful reconnaissance mission, they decided to get a lil’ 4-wheelin’ in before returning to work. Seems that they managed to high-center the truck, and had no hopes of escape. So, they called me. Steve drove me to work, where I got Ben’s keys from his desk and drove his Ranger out to the rescue. We hooked up the Rover’s winch to the Ranger, and you can see the rest below:

Hooking up the rover winch to Ben’s Ranger.

High-centered! Anthony using the winch remote to power free.

It took some wheel spinning, but eventually he got traction.

Climb for the sun Rover! You’re almost free!.

More Ranger-to-Rover resuscitation.

Anthony disconnects the winch, the Rover is free.

1st person view of the drive off the slope.
Free at last! Rover thanks Ranger and we head back to work.

Well, it was an exciting lunch at least. I did miss a meeting, and get a little dusty – but I still count it better than sitting in my cube for those 30min. With the Rover, you never know what’s going to happen.

Dave out.