Have any stories that you wanna share, something that you heard once and it was so poignant to you, you never forgot it.
I always remember a story I heard once about, Louis Armstrong. One night in his later years, when he had been in the spotlight for many decades and was a living legend. He was in a hotel room, with a friend after a show. He was in his late 50's, still playing 300 shows a year, for small money, cause he loved it.
He's sitting around and says "isn't it amazing, I don't have to want anymore". He walks over to the fridge and opens it up and there's a carton of eggs in there, Louis says: "I can have eggs anytime I want now."
His friend was blown away to the point of tears. He said Louis, you should be able to pick up a phone and in a matter of seconds have the finest drink and caviar delivered to you at your whim. Yet he was greatful for something as simple as having eggs. It makes you think how we take things for granted. Yet a legend, an icon like Louis Armstrong can be thankful for a carton of eggs.
i couldn't do this one any justice, but thought it post worthy... sorry about the length.
Story number one
World War II produced many heroes. One such man was Butch O'Hare. He was a fighter pilot assigned to an aircraft carrier in the South Pacific. One day his entire squadron was sent on a mission. After he was airborne, he looked at his fuel gauge and realized that someone had forgotten to top off his fuel tank. He would not have enough fuel to complete his mission and get back to his ship. His flight leader told him to return to the carrier. Reluctantly he dropped out of formation and headed back to the fleet.
As he was returning to the mothership, he saw something that turned his blood cold. A squadron of Japanese Zeroes were speeding their way toward the American fleet. The American fighters were gone on a sortie and the fleet was all but defenseless. He couldn't reach his squadron and bring them back in time to save the fleet. Nor, could he warn the fleet of the approaching danger. There was only one thing to do. He must somehow divert them from the fleet.
Laying aside all thoughts of personal safety, he dove into the formation of Japanese planes. Wing-mounted 50 caliber's blazed as he charged in, attacking one surprised enemy plane and then another. Butch weaned in and out of the now broken formation and fired at as many planes as possible until finally all his ammunition was spent. Undaunted, he continued the assault. He dove at the Zeroes, trying to at least clip off a wing or tail, in hopes of damaging as many enemy planes as possible and rendering them unfit to fly. He was desperate to do anything he could to keep them from reaching the American ships.
Finally, the exasperated Japanese squadron took off in another direction. Deeply relieved, Butch O'Hare and his tattered fighter limped back to the carrier. Upon arrival he reported in and related the the event surrounding his return. The film from the camera mounted on his plane told the tale. It showed the extent of Butch's daring attempt to protect his fleet. He was recognized as a hero and given one of the nation's highest military honors.
And today, O'Hare Airport in Chicago is named in tribute to the courage of this great man.
Story number two
Some years earlier there was a man in Chicago called Easy Eddy. At that time, Al Capone virtually owned the city. Capone wasn't famous for anything heroic. His exploits were anything but praiseworthy. He was, however, notorious for enmeshing the city of Chicago in everything from bootlegged booze and prostitution to murder. Easy Eddy was Capone's lawyer and for a good reason. He was very good! In fact, his skill at legal maneuvering kept Big Al out of jail a long time. To show his appreciation, Capone paid him very well. Not only was the money big; Eddy got special dividends. For instance, he and his family occupied a fenced in mansion with live in help and all of the conveniences of the day. The estate was so large that it filled an entire Chicago city block. Yes, Eddy lived the high life of the Chicago mob and gave little consideration to the atrocity that went on around him. Eddy did have one soft spot, however. He had a son that he loved dearly. Eddy saw to it that his young son had the best of everything; clothes, cars, and a good education.
Nothing was withheld. Price was no object. And, despite his involvement with organized crime, Eddy even tried to teach him right from wrong. Yes, Eddy tried to teach his son to rise above his own sordid life. He wanted him to be a better man than he was. Yet, with all his wealth and influence, there were two things that Eddy couldn't give his son. Two things that Eddy sacrificed to the Capone mob that he could not pass on to his beloved son..... good name and a good example.
One day, Easy Eddy reached a difficult decision. Offering his son a good name was far more important than all the riches he could lavish on him. He had to rectify all the wrong that he had done. He would go to the authorities and tell the truth about Al Capone. He would try to clean up his tarnished name and offer his son some assemblance of integrity. To do this he must testify against The Mob, and he knew that the cost would be great. But more than anything, he wanted to be an example to his son. He wanted to do his best to make restoration and hopefully have a good name to leave his son. So, he testified.
Within the year, Easy Eddy's life ended in a blaze of gunfire on a lonely Chicago street. He had given his son the greatest gift he had to offer at the greatest price he would ever pay.
I know what you're thinking. What do these two stories have to do with one another?
Well you see, Butch O'Hare was Easy Eddy's son.
And this one time, at band camp.....
What is this?
Paul Harvey time?
Quote:Well you see, Butch O'Hare was Easy Eddy's son.
So Chicago isn't a crooked city?
This group of friends (I can't remember all the specifics, our Dean told us this story at college years ago) were enjoying a reunion meal and drinks after not having seen each other in a long time. In fact, they were enjoying a whole BUNCH of drinks, not getting sloppy but definitely getting boisterous enough that the few other patrons in the small establishment knew what they were about. When time came to head out and pay the bill, these friends found they had drunk and eaten a lot more than they could afford. While they were scrabbling trying to put together money for the bill, and elderly gentleman who had been sitting a few tables away asks them if they have a pen or pencil he could borrow for a second. One of the friends obliges the old man, who then takes a napkin and the pen, scribbles something and signs the napkin, and hands both back to the young man who gave him the pen. The older man then tells the young gentleman to give the waiter the napkin and that should take care of the bill, and then the older man walks out.
The young fellow looks at the napkin and sees a quick sketch signed "Picasso".
Ends up the diner/restauraunt was one of his regular haunts, and apparently he enjoyed the thought of friends meeting up after a long seperation and didn't think their night should be spoiled becuase they enjoyed themselves too much.
(I may have messed up some of the specifics, but that's the general gist of the story)
i've got to meet this picasso. too bad he's dead.
A story that I don't personally remember, but I've been told more than once.
One night after much drinking and debauchery, I was kneeling over the toilet in one of three stalls in the dorm bathroom, throwing up repeatedly. A friend of mine walks into the bathroom in only his boxers, pisses, washes his hands, and is about to leave when he realizes he needs to throw up too. Problem number one, he forgot to pull up his boxers, so he's stumbling around with his junk hanging out. Problem number two, he goes to puke in the same toilet I was puking in. Well, apparently (I REALLY don't remember this) I wasn't having any of that. It was MY toilet. So we argued and pushed and shoved, and apparently I won the argument and exclusive use of the toilet, because the next morning I woke up covered in HIS vomit.
Epilogue - He woke up buck-ass naked, covered in his own vomit, and missing a shoe...
That story would have been better if you said he was throwing up over your shoulder and his schlong rubbed up against your face and you puked on it.
Quote:i've got to meet this picasso. too bad he's dead.
You know.. try as I might.. I can't decipher what you're trying to say here.
No, that would NOT have been better.
It would have been much funnier for us to read. :rofl:
i think it would be magnanamous to have picasso py for my friends when we drink too much. since he died in 1973, i wish i had met the man, which one can imagine might be a bit difficult in his deceased state. that's all. no deeper meaning. i'm a shallow guy.
How 'bout if I tell you where said puker's missing shoe was...
We had made a drinking game out of the game Mafia (which is difficult to explain), and needless to say, we were all very very drunk. We went to an on-campus movie (Se7en). I bailed before the movie even started, to get an early jump on puking in the bathroom. This buddy of mine, however, thought he'd be fine. About halfway through the movie, he realizes he's about to puke, and doesn't have time to get past everyone in his aisle, out the door, etc, so he took off his shoe and filled it to overflowing with vomit. Then he just left the shoe on the floor of the theater and stumbled out.
my freshamn year of college, we went out on st. pat's day, as college freshmen are won to do. we got wasted, stumbled home and i fell asleep in my bed all cozy-like.
about four thirty in the morning, i awoke to the sound of someone rustling in my roommate's bed. after about ten minutes of fumbling, i watched this tool, who wasn't my roommate, stand up, drop his pants around his ankels, and just start pissing on all of my roomamtes clothes in his closet. being a good roomate, i let him finish, then proceeded to beat the bag out of him, like a drunk kid, and drag him out into the hallway. the next day, i woke up around noon, and found this tool outside my door with his boxers still around his ankles, propped up against the bathroom door. over the course of the night, somone had gotten into the sharpie markers, and had drawn little penises all over his arms, face and legs. it was too funny. and i never saw the kid again. sorry there was no puking involved, that i know of. but the kid did smell bad.
Dear Abby:
I have been engaged for almost a year. I am to be married next month. My fiancée's mother is not only very attractive but really great and understanding. She is putting the entire wedding together and invited me to her place to go over the invitation list because it had grown a bit beyond what we had expected it to be. When I got to her place we reviewed the list and trimmed it down to just under a hundred ... then she floored me.
She said that in a month I would be a married man and that before that happened, she wanted to have sex with me. Then she just stood up and walked to her bedroom and on her way said that I knew where the front door was if I wanted to leave. I stood there for about five minutes and finally decided that I knew exactly how to deal with this situation. I headed straight out the front door. There, leaning against my car was her husband, my father-in-law to be. He was smiling. He explained that they just wanted to be sure I was a good kid and would be true to their little girl. I shook his hand and he congratulated me on passing their little test.
Abby should I tell my fiancée' what her parents did, and that I thought their "little test" was asinine and insulting to my character? Or should I keep the whole thing to myself including the fact that the reason I was walking out to my car was to get a condom?
Signed XXX
Grumpy will give you some bang up advice when he makes his comeback, tequila.
that's a fuckin awesome story right there :lol:
...ditto....
Paul Harvey....GOOD day?