Everyone thinks they will put pen to pad, or fingers to keyboard and the great American novel will come pouring out like the mighty Mississippi, but in reality most of what is written is only important to ourselves and does not help others at all. Who cares if what I write does not turn on that dim light inside of you and illuminate your path. I write to let out the dribble within me. It is not my intention to make this world a better place with my rambling, but to show everyone we are not all perfect so do not be afraid to share your differences. I believe any good piece of writing though should have some type of tale to tell and hopefully inner twine some personal story that makes us all feel like the lesson learned is meaningful and worthwhile. Each time I post a piece I will share a personal story that is not really going to teach you anything but I feel is pretty entertaining . What am I writing this blog for? Well I guess I’m one of those that feel what I have to say is important or entertaining. I am probably delusional in that thought and if no one reads that I will be just fine. Well here is the first of many little stories to come. In high school, like many I had my issues and it took sometime to find my identity. I wasn’t part of the gangs per say, but I did hang around with guys that had ties to many places. One of my close friends parents at the time had a restaurant that we would do stuff for when needed. One morning they needed someone to go pick up the produce for the restaurant before the day started. This was something that was pretty uneventful and idiot proof to complete. If you know anything about the produce business, you have to get to these distributors early in the morning around 4:30 or 5 and the night before we decided we were going to drink and get high and just stay up. We were 16 at the time, no licenses, way beyond drunk and no one should have been driving. And for us to make it even more challenging we decide to take two cars. One is an 60’s truck that barely ran because we needed a place for the produce and the other was my friends moms car but that also meant we needed a second driver. I will admit when we partied I was my friends copilot all the time and driving was never an issue for him, but a second driver was going to be a gamble. I was not driving at the time and was going to start now, the oldest guy of the group was 19 and basically being carried along with us and the last one a 14 year old that was not as drunk as the rest but very nervous to drive. We decide he could drive the car with sleeping beauty and we can take the truck pick up the vegetation and get to the restaurant and have some breakfast because that was a huge advantage of knowing someone with access to food cooked for you. Free food at your call. Now we are drunk with a load of produce at 5 in the morning heading into the heart of the downtown area mind you my pilot is puffing on a joint to sober him up and a 14 year old behind us with a drunk adult riding shotgun. For me those times when reflected upon are very scary. Much of what we did was illegal and yet there was no parental supervision or figure telling us to stop. The restaurant was closed, but we had the keys to let ourselves in and unload and by doing this felt we deserved food so we cooked breakfast and of course had a few beers to go along with it and a case for the ride home. The quickest way to wake up sleeping drunk? Food…. And of course more alcohol. Everything seemed fine while we laughed and ate in this place that we had been to so many times before. Just the regular routine for us. We clean up and it’s time for the ride home. Our sleeping giant had arose and in doing so felt he should be driving, but even in our state of mind we knew he was not capable and in stating this he was irritated but got in the passenger side with his prepubescent chauffeur and began the short ride home. We drove behind them so in case a cop did pull up it was behind us and not them. We did look out for each other like family. It is probably around 7 am now and the sun is is rising and the streets had little activity. We are laughing listening to whatever tape was our theme for the time when we see the drunk passenger beginning to taunt the kid driving by pulling the wheel and making the swerve. In hindsight should we have pulled over probably but who knows if the would have stopped with us. We stay close but not to close and can still see the jerking and swerving until…. The car shoots quickly to the right and head-on into a very large unmoveable tree. We slow down to see the passengers face had went through the windshield but the driver was not moving. We were drunk, high and now freaking out so we drove a couple blocks up to the passengers house and started walking back when we find the playful copilot running our way like a bloodied face bull and his let eye had a chunk of glass stuck right above it and the lid had been torn through exposing his eyeball. He continued running home while we worked our way towards the wreck to see a cop was already there and our young friend was up walking with a blood dripping left hand. Later we found out his teeth had went through his hand when his face hit the steering wheel. Our young thug did some time for this and ratted out the shenanigans puller which ended a few friendships and also got him a free vacation. I can still clearly see the car running into the tree and my friend going through the windshield like it happened yesterday. As youth we do not see consequences and the long term of our actions. I had a crazy life and sharing it here is allowing me a release and a bit of fulfillment you can say. Not that I am glamorizing my childhood antics but just to show we may have started off one way, but we don’t have to stay that way.