The Oregon: Year One - The Tale of Love
This is the tale OF Love, not to be confused with a tale of love.
One fateful day, it just happened to be his birthday, Joe “Hot Ham” McCartney went to the Main Street Café to get a tasty dish alone and in the dumps because his fellow mates of the grand ol’ Oregon had not really peaked an interest in his birthday. To be totally honest we didn’t know it was his birthday because we forgot our own birthdays that year. Good times. Once there, he befriended the hired help which is his custom when visiting anyplace. Joe’s a friendly guy, who would gladly shave your back for a nickel. It was here at the Main Street Café that Joe discovered a woman who would soon play a vital role in my life. More vital then she ever could’ve imagined in the short time we were together. Her name was Love and she would soon fall into a world of strange adventure, thrilling stunts, and possible jail time, known only as the Oregon. She gave Joe a yellow balloon to sooth his hurt feelings over our complete disregard for his birthday which if I remember right later that night we got him drunk as hell for his birthday so stop whining you damn bitch.
A few days later, Joe and I were playing classic Pac-Man in the attic room of Grog the great and powerful, aka Dan Warner, aka DW. We were mixing Everclear with our Buch Light to make Everclear Beer. A glorious and powerful beverage Everclear is. When I would take straight shots from the bottle my head would jerk back thus hitting the low lying rooftop sending Joe into a riotous laughter of child like joy. We were all very easily amused. The stairs leading up to Grog’s humble attic abode were affectionately called the Drunk Steps. Two reasons for this now, the first of which was they looked like a drunk person built them. They looked like the vertical part had been placed as the step and the step part was placed in the vertical position. Thus it was not uncommon for us to fall down said steps in a heap of drunken laughter. When Grog returned home from work and drank two Everclear Beers and four Grog sized gulps of straight Everclear to catch up with Joe and I we all rolled down the steps and over to the Main Street Café. Yes we rolled to the Café. Unbeknownst to me this Love character, a creature of beauty and contagious silliness, already knew of me. I, however, was in no condition to learn anything of her. You see it was Monte Python day at the Main Street Café. Now that’s not a day that they advertised. It’s a day where Grog, Joe, and I decided to talk like British men particularly those from Monte Python. If you’ve ever seen the Dirty Vicar sketch you’ll get an idea what these poor girls went through. Between that and the very explicit cat calls we were sure to leave an impression of good breeding and class on all of the young women working that day. Love had had the biggest crush on me for years apparently since I had played the Scarecrow in the Wizard of Oz, so she wasn’t sure she wanted to slap me or blush at the things I was rattling off. We opened negotiations to the small country of Main Street Café and opened the Oregon’s borders to their people. Female people who were all underage and we had a knack for corruption you might say.
Shortly after that strange meeting Love and some of the other waitresses would begin to trickle into the Oregon on weekends and such to see what the “crazies” were up to. There were days when I would mix her a Screwdriver and then she’d sip it on the porch while I’d run around the yard with my Axe Handle of Doom and Grog while listening to The Clash. Dr. Robinson was always afraid that the cops were going to show up and bust us up for contributing to minors but when we were getting the neighbor kids we hated drunk and send them off to get beat by their hick ass parents he would laugh and laugh. We were never consistent with our principles at the Oregon. One time in particular Love and another waitress, Kari, came over and told their parents the classic “I’m staying at the others house” lie. ( To see how that night went veiw the good Dr.'s blog http://drrobinson.blogspot.com/2007/06/oregon-year-one-tale-of-cock-blockery.html.) Ah youth, anyway, Kari’s mother shows up at our house and we sent, as usual, Grog to speak on our behalf. Grog is a crazy drunk and very unpredictable, however, when it comes to sliming out of a sticky situation he normally has a better chance then the rest of us who prefer the giggling like a girl at the wrong moments (Adam) or making up totally different realities when talking to the cops type strategy (Me). The girls hide in the depths of the house, my room, whilst Grog tried his hand at talking this angry mother off our door step. It wasn’t until she pulled the “I’m calling the cops” card that we gave the girls up and they went home to get yelled at and such.
Love had told us during the “Python” interview portion of negotiations that she was 17 and that she would be 18 in just a few short months. Being 21 at the time this did indeed bode well for me because I had already gathered a reputation as a corrupter of underage girls. An unwitting corrupter but don’t ask Dr. Robinson about it. Ol’ Adam will list off the many young ladies that I seemed to attract like moths to the flame. Why? Don’t ask me but I’m not going to turn a free drink down if you know what I’m saying. Don’t look at me like that I’m married now for Christ sakes. Hey get back here. Don’t go check how old my wife is….. Damn. All right are you satisfied? Can we proceed now? Thank you. I was trying to veer away though not by very much this rep I had so Love’s birthday was a glorious prospect. Now even though she wanted to get with me because of the above mentioned crush she hung around Dan a lot because I was still dealing with her age. I hadn’t been dating anyone since Barb and I wasn’t looking at the time for anything serious. After awhile though and through her efforts I came around and we started a whirl wind relationship that would burn fast and die out just as quick as the spark that ignited it.
I was falling in love with her slowly but it wasn’t me she was hanging out with most of the time. That’s right folks she spent most of her time with Biff Calhoon. Biff treats women like they are objects, something I always thought was odd because I don’t think like that at all but then he always had different ways. As Biff, I was sometimes pretty mean to this very good sport of a girl who would simply brush him off. In her own words she says, “When Biff came out I would laugh for awhile and then I would head into the other room before you would say something mean that I knew you didn’t mean or do something that would really hurt yourself.” If I remember correctly she bore witness to the demise of the basement door. (A tale for another time) The time came to go to her birthday party and Grog and I go to the local liquor joint to score some booze. We got Galen’s 151 Vodka (my favorite), Jack Daniels, and some Sprite and grape juice. Upon arrival we promptly ditch the Party Wagon, Grog’s sometimes van, and I mean we literally ditched it and we hadn’t even started drinking yet. We show up make some drinks for the little kiddies in attendance and then we sit the hell down in front of the bon fire. When her mother shows up with the cake Grog and I are pretty toasty and really feeling the good vibe the party was offering. That vibe would last mere moments as we read the cake only to see that the cake elves had made a grievous error. Instead of saying happy 18th birthday like it should’ve, it said happy 17th birthday. I was outraged and wanted this foolish baker found and reprimanded. When I looked at Love and she gave me the “I’m sorry” look I knew that there was no mistake. I was having torrid, passionate relations with yet another woman of youth. I vowed that night that after Love and I parted ways I would start to card at the door of my club if you get my meaning. I, of course, knew that the damage was already done and I wasn’t about to stop now. So Love and I kept on a little longer. Dan and I liquored her friends up good at the party and laughed heartily as a lanky fellow fell into the fire two or three times. Love sat her ass on a nail of which she still bears a scar. Nothing is better then watching impressionable younglings do things you already know is dumb. Ah, youth. Then we pushed the Party Wagon out of the ditch, cutting Dan’s hand in the process, and headed back to the Oregon.
Like I said Love and I kept doing our thing for a little while longer and whether it was getting caught “making out” as she puts it or me kissing her naughty bits as I remember it in the computer room (the drunk tank mattress had moved there) or keeping some of the guys up with our bedroom antics it was never a dull moment. The last time I ever saw Love face to face, that I can remember, was the night I was going to tell her that I wanted to get serious. I hadn’t been drinking that much that night because of that mission but she wasn’t in the mood for serious talk. She kept giving me more and more Vodka until I vaguely remember retiring with her to my room. The door of which had “Abandon hope all ye who enter here” written on it in Italian. That Dante and his Inferno, now that’s a good read if you’re into that kind of thing. As I awoke in the morning I found she was gone. The first time she ever left before I woke up. I walked up stairs to the corner booth to commence the usual retelling and booze clues sleuthing of the night. Dan, Adam, and Joe already had their breakfast and were seated. I got a bowl of cereal and as I approached they gazed at me with these shit eating grins on their face. I sat down and said, “What?” Joe replies with, “Had fun last night?” He chuckles a bit as do the rest of the guys. I say how I didn’t want to just jump into bed I needed to talk to her and she liquored me up and took me anyway. I sat there a few moments taking their stares and grins as long as I could when suddenly it dawned on me, “She used me last night. I was used.” Then my patented shit eating grin blossomed on my face. “I was used.” I never blamed her for taking off. There were no strings attached. We’ve both gone on to bigger better things. Even though I didn’t really get a chance to start anything serious I was really getting attached to her. She showed me that there were women out there who were funny and tender and loving and that I could find them if I only looked. However, going cold turkey like I did and never seeing her again didn’t help with my growing abandonment issue. Haha! Years later we got back in touch with each other and we’re both living better lives. We still talk to this day and I imagine I’ll get an email full of choice expletives about airing our business in the open even if it’s all water under the bridge. However, it’s an amusing tail and one of the most important ones in helping me become who I am today.
I’ll see you all further on down the road.
Mike
P.S. When I returned from basic training my friends thought it would be funny to put it into my head that Love was pregnant and that I had some timing issues to worry about. There was no way I could’ve been the girls father because of when we stopped seeing each other but they, ‘ol Grog especially, kept bringing it up. I should’ve known now that the reason they all laughed so hard was BECAUSE I believed them but that wasn’t the point. The point was I DID believe them. I even offered to help take care of the baby. Love about laughed her head off thanked me for the thought but told me there was no way in hell the girl was mine. Now I can relate to Michael Jackson’s Billy Jean! Haha! You guys fooled me again! Touché.
One fateful day, it just happened to be his birthday, Joe “Hot Ham” McCartney went to the Main Street Café to get a tasty dish alone and in the dumps because his fellow mates of the grand ol’ Oregon had not really peaked an interest in his birthday. To be totally honest we didn’t know it was his birthday because we forgot our own birthdays that year. Good times. Once there, he befriended the hired help which is his custom when visiting anyplace. Joe’s a friendly guy, who would gladly shave your back for a nickel. It was here at the Main Street Café that Joe discovered a woman who would soon play a vital role in my life. More vital then she ever could’ve imagined in the short time we were together. Her name was Love and she would soon fall into a world of strange adventure, thrilling stunts, and possible jail time, known only as the Oregon. She gave Joe a yellow balloon to sooth his hurt feelings over our complete disregard for his birthday which if I remember right later that night we got him drunk as hell for his birthday so stop whining you damn bitch.
A few days later, Joe and I were playing classic Pac-Man in the attic room of Grog the great and powerful, aka Dan Warner, aka DW. We were mixing Everclear with our Buch Light to make Everclear Beer. A glorious and powerful beverage Everclear is. When I would take straight shots from the bottle my head would jerk back thus hitting the low lying rooftop sending Joe into a riotous laughter of child like joy. We were all very easily amused. The stairs leading up to Grog’s humble attic abode were affectionately called the Drunk Steps. Two reasons for this now, the first of which was they looked like a drunk person built them. They looked like the vertical part had been placed as the step and the step part was placed in the vertical position. Thus it was not uncommon for us to fall down said steps in a heap of drunken laughter. When Grog returned home from work and drank two Everclear Beers and four Grog sized gulps of straight Everclear to catch up with Joe and I we all rolled down the steps and over to the Main Street Café. Yes we rolled to the Café. Unbeknownst to me this Love character, a creature of beauty and contagious silliness, already knew of me. I, however, was in no condition to learn anything of her. You see it was Monte Python day at the Main Street Café. Now that’s not a day that they advertised. It’s a day where Grog, Joe, and I decided to talk like British men particularly those from Monte Python. If you’ve ever seen the Dirty Vicar sketch you’ll get an idea what these poor girls went through. Between that and the very explicit cat calls we were sure to leave an impression of good breeding and class on all of the young women working that day. Love had had the biggest crush on me for years apparently since I had played the Scarecrow in the Wizard of Oz, so she wasn’t sure she wanted to slap me or blush at the things I was rattling off. We opened negotiations to the small country of Main Street Café and opened the Oregon’s borders to their people. Female people who were all underage and we had a knack for corruption you might say.
Shortly after that strange meeting Love and some of the other waitresses would begin to trickle into the Oregon on weekends and such to see what the “crazies” were up to. There were days when I would mix her a Screwdriver and then she’d sip it on the porch while I’d run around the yard with my Axe Handle of Doom and Grog while listening to The Clash. Dr. Robinson was always afraid that the cops were going to show up and bust us up for contributing to minors but when we were getting the neighbor kids we hated drunk and send them off to get beat by their hick ass parents he would laugh and laugh. We were never consistent with our principles at the Oregon. One time in particular Love and another waitress, Kari, came over and told their parents the classic “I’m staying at the others house” lie. ( To see how that night went veiw the good Dr.'s blog http://drrobinson.blogspot.com/2007/06/oregon-year-one-tale-of-cock-blockery.html.) Ah youth, anyway, Kari’s mother shows up at our house and we sent, as usual, Grog to speak on our behalf. Grog is a crazy drunk and very unpredictable, however, when it comes to sliming out of a sticky situation he normally has a better chance then the rest of us who prefer the giggling like a girl at the wrong moments (Adam) or making up totally different realities when talking to the cops type strategy (Me). The girls hide in the depths of the house, my room, whilst Grog tried his hand at talking this angry mother off our door step. It wasn’t until she pulled the “I’m calling the cops” card that we gave the girls up and they went home to get yelled at and such.
Love had told us during the “Python” interview portion of negotiations that she was 17 and that she would be 18 in just a few short months. Being 21 at the time this did indeed bode well for me because I had already gathered a reputation as a corrupter of underage girls. An unwitting corrupter but don’t ask Dr. Robinson about it. Ol’ Adam will list off the many young ladies that I seemed to attract like moths to the flame. Why? Don’t ask me but I’m not going to turn a free drink down if you know what I’m saying. Don’t look at me like that I’m married now for Christ sakes. Hey get back here. Don’t go check how old my wife is….. Damn. All right are you satisfied? Can we proceed now? Thank you. I was trying to veer away though not by very much this rep I had so Love’s birthday was a glorious prospect. Now even though she wanted to get with me because of the above mentioned crush she hung around Dan a lot because I was still dealing with her age. I hadn’t been dating anyone since Barb and I wasn’t looking at the time for anything serious. After awhile though and through her efforts I came around and we started a whirl wind relationship that would burn fast and die out just as quick as the spark that ignited it.
I was falling in love with her slowly but it wasn’t me she was hanging out with most of the time. That’s right folks she spent most of her time with Biff Calhoon. Biff treats women like they are objects, something I always thought was odd because I don’t think like that at all but then he always had different ways. As Biff, I was sometimes pretty mean to this very good sport of a girl who would simply brush him off. In her own words she says, “When Biff came out I would laugh for awhile and then I would head into the other room before you would say something mean that I knew you didn’t mean or do something that would really hurt yourself.” If I remember correctly she bore witness to the demise of the basement door. (A tale for another time) The time came to go to her birthday party and Grog and I go to the local liquor joint to score some booze. We got Galen’s 151 Vodka (my favorite), Jack Daniels, and some Sprite and grape juice. Upon arrival we promptly ditch the Party Wagon, Grog’s sometimes van, and I mean we literally ditched it and we hadn’t even started drinking yet. We show up make some drinks for the little kiddies in attendance and then we sit the hell down in front of the bon fire. When her mother shows up with the cake Grog and I are pretty toasty and really feeling the good vibe the party was offering. That vibe would last mere moments as we read the cake only to see that the cake elves had made a grievous error. Instead of saying happy 18th birthday like it should’ve, it said happy 17th birthday. I was outraged and wanted this foolish baker found and reprimanded. When I looked at Love and she gave me the “I’m sorry” look I knew that there was no mistake. I was having torrid, passionate relations with yet another woman of youth. I vowed that night that after Love and I parted ways I would start to card at the door of my club if you get my meaning. I, of course, knew that the damage was already done and I wasn’t about to stop now. So Love and I kept on a little longer. Dan and I liquored her friends up good at the party and laughed heartily as a lanky fellow fell into the fire two or three times. Love sat her ass on a nail of which she still bears a scar. Nothing is better then watching impressionable younglings do things you already know is dumb. Ah, youth. Then we pushed the Party Wagon out of the ditch, cutting Dan’s hand in the process, and headed back to the Oregon.
Like I said Love and I kept doing our thing for a little while longer and whether it was getting caught “making out” as she puts it or me kissing her naughty bits as I remember it in the computer room (the drunk tank mattress had moved there) or keeping some of the guys up with our bedroom antics it was never a dull moment. The last time I ever saw Love face to face, that I can remember, was the night I was going to tell her that I wanted to get serious. I hadn’t been drinking that much that night because of that mission but she wasn’t in the mood for serious talk. She kept giving me more and more Vodka until I vaguely remember retiring with her to my room. The door of which had “Abandon hope all ye who enter here” written on it in Italian. That Dante and his Inferno, now that’s a good read if you’re into that kind of thing. As I awoke in the morning I found she was gone. The first time she ever left before I woke up. I walked up stairs to the corner booth to commence the usual retelling and booze clues sleuthing of the night. Dan, Adam, and Joe already had their breakfast and were seated. I got a bowl of cereal and as I approached they gazed at me with these shit eating grins on their face. I sat down and said, “What?” Joe replies with, “Had fun last night?” He chuckles a bit as do the rest of the guys. I say how I didn’t want to just jump into bed I needed to talk to her and she liquored me up and took me anyway. I sat there a few moments taking their stares and grins as long as I could when suddenly it dawned on me, “She used me last night. I was used.” Then my patented shit eating grin blossomed on my face. “I was used.” I never blamed her for taking off. There were no strings attached. We’ve both gone on to bigger better things. Even though I didn’t really get a chance to start anything serious I was really getting attached to her. She showed me that there were women out there who were funny and tender and loving and that I could find them if I only looked. However, going cold turkey like I did and never seeing her again didn’t help with my growing abandonment issue. Haha! Years later we got back in touch with each other and we’re both living better lives. We still talk to this day and I imagine I’ll get an email full of choice expletives about airing our business in the open even if it’s all water under the bridge. However, it’s an amusing tail and one of the most important ones in helping me become who I am today.
I’ll see you all further on down the road.
Mike
P.S. When I returned from basic training my friends thought it would be funny to put it into my head that Love was pregnant and that I had some timing issues to worry about. There was no way I could’ve been the girls father because of when we stopped seeing each other but they, ‘ol Grog especially, kept bringing it up. I should’ve known now that the reason they all laughed so hard was BECAUSE I believed them but that wasn’t the point. The point was I DID believe them. I even offered to help take care of the baby. Love about laughed her head off thanked me for the thought but told me there was no way in hell the girl was mine. Now I can relate to Michael Jackson’s Billy Jean! Haha! You guys fooled me again! Touché.
posted by Mike | 4:16 PM
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