Wednesday, February 11, 2009

My Puppy

3 days ago my dog passed away. She was pushin 14 years I think.

While she had been sick for the last couple months I'm glad she held on this long. I got to see her a little over a month ago while in Arizona.

She was like all members of our family in that she was built for the outdoors. We would never have a dog that always wasn't a happy, healthy, desert hiking partner.

She was a pure bred australian she didn't even have a tail.

I lost a friend in a freak accident a month ago and my only remaining grandma is probably on her way out soon (at this point, I'm convinced old jewish grandparents can hold on for ever if given a combination drip of matza ball soup and manischewitz).

Regardless I'm a very happy up-beat kinda fellow. We all lose people, friends, family....but we smile. For who they were, what they did, and hopefully where they are now.

Time for a happier story.

People who know me well enough rarely see me drink heavily. I like a beer with dinner or while outdoors. But I'm usually the sober guy driving people back from Scottsdale on bar nights. I say that I've been drunk maybe 4 times in the 5 months I've been out here.

But I drank almost a whole bottle of pinot grigio after hearing about the dog and watched the suns get destroyed by the 76'ers, and laughed mostly about better times.

I don't even like wine usually, but it was left over and staring me down from the bottom of my fridge.

This got me to thinking about an old drinking story. A favorite of mine.

When you are able to grow a beard at an early age, by the time you are 19 and you have a fake id in the town of Flagstaff Arizona....getting into bars really isn't an issue. I really didn't like to drink at that age. It was just that all of my friends were older then me and I wanted to join the social scence at the bars.

Now this ID of mine was a real one. Meaning it scanned, showed up under the lights etc. However it wasn't mine. It was my buddys' Trevor. Since he was of age and I looked enough like him there was never a problem and I got into the local dives without fail for almost a year and a half.....until a week before my 21st b-day.

I believe it was around St. Patty's day and I attempt to walk into Maloney's Irish Bar downtown (ironically, a place I ended up becoming head D.J. and working for almost a year later). Now I had gotten in here at least 20 times without fail.

The bouncer looks at my ID, takes one short look at me and says, "this isn't you". Then pockets it.

I try to play it off, "of course that's me, man!!" I say with a grin on my face.

He replies with, "Ok. If it's you then go get a cop and I'll give it back to you".

At this point I'm trying to figure out how he knew so damn quickly. I walk off, leaving my date with her friends and head somewhere else, sans-fake ID. I just couldn't figure out what changed with this bouncer.

About a week later my buddy Trevor (the guy whose ID this was) calls me up and says, "Hey man. Did you try to get into Maloney's only to be sent packin". I said, "yeah, but how'd you know?".

Of course, I should have seen this coming living in a small mountain town with a small tight-knit community, but it turns out the bouncer and Trevor and good friends. Trevor continues to tell me that this bouncer calls him and says that some kid tried to get in using "your" ID but he knew it wasn't you. Trevor then laughs and explains to him, "yeah man, cause that was Tim. I GAVE him my ID for that exact purpose."

They had a good laugh and the bouncer actually apologized to Trevor, saying "had he known....".

The irony of using a fake ID for over a year and only getting it snagged 9 days before your 21st birthday.....well this nostalgic memory is making me smile again.....

R.I.P. Sara-Bella

1 comment:

Chilly Breeze said...

Sorry to hear about your dog. But it sounds like she had a good life. Plus loved the way you turned the epitaph post into an underage drinking story.