Thursday, November 7, 2013

The Very Beginning of Cappy in Boston and YOU Were There:

I've been wanting to BLOG for a while. I need a creative output and cursing out whomever is on line in front of me at Starbucks isn't doing anyone any good. Although I have gotten incredibly good at insults and comebacks. I consider myself to be the comeback King. Someone may think it's ok to take 25 minutes to order a double decaf skinny non-fat organic dark robust clover brewed latte with a dollop of whip cream and a shot of caramel while I'm patiently waiting for a tall bold. BUT they better not be too fat, too skinny, have a weird hat, have their pants pulled down too far, have a strange lumpy birth mark on their face or a MYRIAD of other exploitable things going on because that is what I'm waiting for.

 That's been my creative outlet for ...really way too long. I know it is not right to tell people, (who I deem to deserve it) how I feel. It isn't my responsibility nor my job to correct bad behaviors through observational, at their expense, derogatory, albeit funny, humor. But for too long it's been an good outlet for me. This way when I go home and my cat has pooped on my pillow for the 100th time I do not open a window and drop her out of it. I have expelled the negativity on strangers. I clean up the poop, change the pillow case, hug my kids, kiss my wife (if she lets me) and go on about my day.

 I have wanted a BLOG for a while. Everyone has a friggin blog. Dawn has a shoe blog. Slim has a food blog. Marc also has a foodish blog. Why the hell can't I have one? I'm living a pretty interesting life and I have a lot to talk about. I have stories man! I have seen shit. I have really seen some shit. So this will be the first in a few dozen or maybe less BLOGS. Can I call it something else though? BLOG doesn't sound right. I'll get back to you on that.

 I was talking to someone the other day about things that scare us. It was Halloween and we were talking about scary movies. I friggin love horror movies. I'm not sure why. They don't scare me or freak me out at all. Although Hellraiser 2 did in fact give me nightmares. I've loved them since I was a little kid watching Chiller Theatre on WPIX NY channel 11 every Saturday night. My parents would go out and leave my brother and I with a baby sitter and I'd put on Chiller Theatre and proceed to scare the crap out of my brother. We would watch the old Hammer movies like the Mummy and Bride of Frankenstein or the 60's vamp movies with Peter Cushing as Dracula. I would always then try to scare my brother after the movie ended. I'd shut off the lights or lock him in a closet or something.

One night I wanted to take it to a new level. I wanted to scare the baby sitter and my brother! I went into the other room and knocked on the wall. The babysitter who in retrospect wasn't very bright went to the back door and opened it thinking someone had knocked on the door. Of course no one was there. I thought this was hysterical! She fell for it like two more times. My brother caught on and he started knocking on things too. Although the babysitter was a complete moron and answered the back door at least three times, eventually she caught on and stopped answering it and instead started getting pissed off. I knew I would have to take it to a whole new level to scare her and to get her to answer the door again.

 I decided to go up the stairs to the front door when no one was looking and reach my arm out and ring the door bell. Then when she came up to answer it, I'd scare the CRAPOLA out of her. Hey, I was eight. I didn't have a lot to work with. I knew I had to be quiet about opening the door. If she heard me unlock it everything would be ruined. I wanted to open it just a crack, then reach my hand out, ring the doorbell, close the door , then hide and jump out when she went to answer it. It wasn't easy unlocking and opening the door quietly. It was big heavy door and it was known to creak if you opened it too slowly. I had to be fast.

 I opened it just a crack and tried to squeeze my hand out. I just couldn't reach the doorbell and watch for the babysitter at the same time. I had to open the door a little wider, just enough to get my whole arm out and press the button a few quick times. I wasn't looking and although I was pretty sure where the doorbell was, for some reason I wasn't feeling it. I tried to peek out the crack and see where it was but it was too dark and it was hard to see around the corner where it was. I had to open the door a little wider, then stick my head out and see where the doorbell was, then I could press it quick and close the door quick, then go hide. It could be done!

 I could hear my brother and the babysitter playing downstairs. They were laughing. She couldn't hear the door over the TV and the laughter. Now was my chance. I opened the door wide enough to get my head and arm out. I actually put my foot outside and felt the cold cement with my bare feet. I was concentrating on the doorbell. I was half inside and half outside my house. I finally felt where the stupid doorbell was and prepared to press it. It was then that I happened to look up past the door, outside at the wall of the house.

 There right next to the door  WAS A MAN IN A LONG COAT AND A WINTER HAT PRESSED UP AGAINST THE WALL WAITING FOR ME!!!!!! HE TRIED TO GRAB ME! That's right. There was a fucking person outside my house leaning up against the wall. I think I surprised him as much as he surprised me. I took in a DEEEEP breath and proceeded to SCREAM as loud as I fucking could.

YAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGHHHH! I slammed the door and took off down the stairs screaming at the top of my lungs. "There's a man outside the house! HELP!!!" I was pretty hysterical at this point having scared myself far more than I could ever have scared anyone else. I was running around the coffee table in a circle screaming. "LOCK THE DOOR! LOCK THE DOOR! THERE'S A MAN OUTSIDE THE DOOR! HELP! HELP!" The babysitter ran up and looked outside.

Of course no one was there any more. Of course she didn't believe me. She did lock the door though. My parents got home after I went to bed. I had a tough time sleeping..... NO ONE believed me. Lord knows what that guy was planning to do. I think I stuck my head out and saw him right before he was going to do....whatever. Nevertheless he ran away after I set off the alarm. (my loud screaming voice) To this day I can picture him perfectly.

 This was the first of many times as a kid when I wasn't believed. Remind me to tell you the UFO story some time. There haven't been too many times in my life where the living crap was scared out of me. I don't scare easy but each time was a great story. If I was going to tackle a few of them the story titles would go something like this:

 1. The time I was 80 feet down under the ocean and I realized my tank had a leak and I was almost out of  air and proceeded to almost drown off the coast of Key West.

 2. The time I took a bunch of little kids deep into the woods to a "haunted" house in Maine to scare them at night and it turned out a crazy old man lived there, had a gun and fired it at us.

 3. The time my wife and I drove way off the beaten path in Hawaii and were almost mugged and killed by a bunch of crazy natives.

 4. The time I was on the top of a giant mountain out west and right before the summit the whole thing started to crumble out from under me.

 5. The time my brother woke the whole house in the middle of the night screaming "Someone's in the house! "Someone's in the house!"

Oh I have stories. I have lots of them. The streets of Boston stories are some of the best. I watched a guy eat his own poop once. That's a good one. I have seen stabbings, robberies, naked crazy people, every kind of scam known to man, all kinds of mental illness, unimaginable acts of kindness too. It's not all bad. Most of it is funny. At least to me. I also have lots of pictures. I've been photographing this stuff for years. How do you add pics to this? This BLOG should be interesting if it's nothing else. 

All comments and criticism modestly accepted until deleted.