My last 4th of July Celibration
Ya ever been to a picnic on a hot summer day where their serving red, sweet, cool, thirst quenching watermelon? The shit tastes so good, you've since lost count of how many slices you've had. And, we wont even mention the fact that the fruits transformed you into the picnic pig, your face and hands are dirty and stickin to everything and your white shorts, well they were white before the seed spiting war but now. Anyway, to make a long story short, we didn't get that kind. We got the pre-maturely picked, pink tasteless shit, but hay, it was free. I shouldn't complain, the base did its best, I mean, even the high school marching band played a part in trying to boost our moral. It was great too, ahh, special array of, out of key, patriotic songs, and I felt so good about myself after hearing them. Then, then came the grand finale, the fire works show. It was pathetic, really. They would have been better off by just lettin a bunch a hicks go crazy with a five gallon jug of gasoline, hell, gasoline is in no short order in the Air Force. For that matter, neither are hicks.
This yearΒ΄s 4th was going to be different! This years fun isn't going to be determined some harelip havin suck up lieutenant and our 60 year old cigar smoking Gerneral. We decided on using the three day weekend to go skiing in the Alps, sounds bizarre but the idea registered well with the single guys. Now July, just a few days before we were going to be taking off and Bill was getting nervous, you see his van wasn't going to be full, so in an effort to drive down the per capita costs he went ahead and offered a spot to Rodney. The guys who had already agreed to go were outraged and begged him to go back on his word. But, Bill ignored em, writing off their pleas as, 'just a lot of bitchin!' A decision that would come to teach him a valuable lesson about where you don't cut costs on a vacation. To give you some insight on what I mean, Rodney's free time, was either spent in the Gym or talking about himself. He was painfully dumb, which is why he ended up on the lawn mowing crew, not to mention, stubborn and impossible to get along with. Sounds like just the kinda guy I wanta spend a long weekend with.
It was after midnight when we finally pulled up to the parking lot in Stubital Austria stopping right next to the lift. Tired from the long drive we rolled our mats out right on the pavement, and were out for the night. The next morning at the crack of dawn a heard of about 200 cows came up through the parking lot, mooing, clanging and shitting everywhere waking up the entire group. The guys slowly piled out of the van rubbing their eyes and cursing. Soon their after, cigarettes were being lit and a pot of coffee was put on the stove as Bill mixed up the pancake batter. The morning had started.
Summer skiing fun starts at the ticket counter where you pay just about half the normal high season price. Your way up in the mountains, away from the city dirt and heat. And the best part, there are no lines. What more could you ask for? O.K. the run lengths are limited and the snow conditions are lousy, but those two qualities don't necessarily spell out a good time. Another thing is that summer skiing isn't, is its not as forgiving as its winter counter part. The snow is heavy with lots of ice and rocks that can rip into the skin leaving you bloody and wet after a good fall. We didn't care about that though, we were addicted to the fun of whipping down the mountain in the warm summer air, wearing nothing more than a pair of jeans, a T shirt and sun glasses and basically just hanging out with each other. By the end of the day we were wet, bruised up, a little burnt, tired and high on life.
It was the afternoon of the second day, a Saturday which meant that their were a lot more people on the mountain only, the Europeans didn't seem to be very interested in the skiing. Most of them were content with the slower pace of life in the high Alps, their mainly to soak up some rays and just relax. Our luck with the weather meant that by one in the afternoon the snow conditions had gotten pretty lousy. Packed with guests the most attractive spot for lunch seemed to be the resorts outdoor restaurant patio which sits a good 3 stories above the midstation gondola and offers its guests a birds eye view of the alps from Germany to Italy.
Be it through experience or common sense, most people, by the time they reach adulthood, have gained a certain respect for the sun. Fact is that the UV rays, the shit that's gona burn you, intensify by roughly 1/3 for every 1000 m of vertical, put the snow and the July sun into the equation mixed in with a nice cool mountain breeze which helps the real effects sneak up on you and if your not careful you can end up painfully charged. Of course, there are some guys who will decided to find this out the hard way, clinging to the old adage that you need a good burn before you can get a good tan. Rodney was one of those guys. After smearing myself with some lotion I looked over his way, 'ya want some sunscreen?' I asked.
'Na I don need it!'
John looked over at him, 'Dude you better put on some sun screen!'
Rodney snapped at him,' I fuckin said I don't need it!'
John retorted, 'You don't need it? Your chest is lily white your gona get fried!'
Rodney hated people pointing out his shortcomings. And snapped back 'Fuck you! Sunscreen is for pussies!'
'Ya! I guess it is.' I reasoned trying to ignore him.
We then became involuntary spectators to Rodney's compulsive flexing. He would try and play it off in a nonchalant sort of way, as if the flex was in actuality not a flex at all but in fact just heaps of muscle, we knew better. In the mean time Rodney was busy doing curls with his mug of beer.
After about 5 minutes I couldn't take it anymore, 'What the fucks wrong with you man?' I demanded.
'What?'
'Why do you keep flexin when ever you lift up your beer for a drink?'
'I'm not!' he insisted.
'I think its his way of tellin you he likes you.' Commented Jon
'Fuck you man!'
'What da fucks wrong witd chew!' asked Rich
'Fuck you too! Fuck yaall! Fuck yaall!' he repeated getting up,'Im gona just sit over here away from all youall pussies!' He announced taking his tray over to an empty lounge chair next to some young ladies, where he laid down and made like he was sunning himself. This lasted until he was no longer the centre of attention. Then Rodney stood up again and did a stretch-flex sort of thing while announcing in a booming voice, 'its too damn hot for these snow pants!' sort of half talking to us while looking at the ladies who up till now were doing their best to ignore him. Then, with the grace of a club footed alcoholic, he proceeded to strip down, at first no one really took notice but by the time he pealed off his nappy lookin sweats and presented himself in his brand new titie whities he was enjoying the attention of all eyes on deck. He laid back in his chair doing his best to create the perception that he was simply relaxing in the sun. Which indeed, it was relaxing only, if you weren't moving around (or flexing constantly) you would needed a sweater or a light jacket and in fact among the other 200 guests their wasn't one single person laying around in their underwear. The show had begun, laying in his chair, his head tilted way back like he was taking an afternoon snooze he would now make like he had to itch somewhere around his neck or face which of course would lead to a bicep flex. And his chair needed almost constant adjusting, which meant he would have to sit up and reach back in an awkward sort of way curling his arm about so as to bring out the definition in his triceps. Silence had swept over the deck, everyone awe struck by the freak show complements of the GIΒ΄s. It was like some goofy thing you might see as a prank or dare. John was sick of his shit, 'Rodney! Sit down, your making a scene!'
'Fuck you horse shoe!' (John was bald)
'Ya that's really funny stud just look at yourself you look like a fool!'
'Least I ainΒ΄t bald!'
'No but your dumb!'
'Ya Ya!'
'He waved his finger at Jon!' and looked back over at the ladies for some reassurance, in fact too dumb to recognize that the smiles were only hiding laughs. The stud then decided to set off for the bar only about midway between his snow pants and the bar he stopped, the pain in his eyes was evident, but their was the inner conflict. Do I save my feet from turning numb or do I continue on with the show. As much as he wanted to control himself, his bodily urge drove him leaping back to his snow pants where he plopped down on his chair and rubbed his feat. We all broke into a laugh. Of course Rodney was not one to take being laughed at sitting down. After a brief pause for some brain storming he was making his way to the bar again. This time steadfast determined to strut up to the counter despite the very large obstacle his grey airbase rental ski boots imposed on walking. We just watched speechless, pondering over weather it was the numerous months of overdosing on testosterone supplements that had lead to this type of behaviour. Or maybe it was the pills that brought the real problem to a head and we should feel sorry for him. We'd never know, of course the beer and sun didn't help either. Finally we couldn't take it anymore, 'Let's go!' yelled someone from our group triggering the mass back towards the snow.
Later that evening
'Those chicks up their, they wanted me, bad!' started Rodney desperately looking for listeners.
'Shut the fuck up!' said Acid taking a swig of beer.
'Th, the one,' he continued, 'wanted to hook up with me in Innsbruck.'
'Did ja fuck her?' asked Frank. Rodney didn't catch the sarcasm in the question and kept rattling on. 'She was going to leave her fiancΓ© for me.'
In the mean time Jon had since reached his boiling point, again, 'Shut the fuck up!' 'Fu, Fuck you Horse Shoe!'
'Have you ever stopped to listen to yourself?' Jon continued, 'She was gona leave her fiancΓ© for me! You're an idiot!'
'Fuck you Horse shoe, at least I can get some!'
'Maybe you could get some if you kept your mouth shut but your stupidly is so evident, it breaks through the language barrier!'
'Fuck you horse shoe!'
Jon continued, 'You never had a chance with those chicks!'
Rodney stood up addressing the entire group, 'She saw this hot body! these lean muscles, and my perty smile and she couldn't resist.'
Jon retorted, 'I may not be any connoisseur of fashion but in your smile ainΒ΄t pretty! You've got a fuckin grey tooth!'
'Fuck you Horse shoe I got perty teeth' he insisted tapping on his perlie greys, but fact was Rodney had been hit in his soft spot. 'I've got pertty teeth!' he said again more to himself than to anyone else. Then he started back in on the bauds again, 'th the one was trying to get rid of her boy friend so we could hook up at the base.
'Ya mean ya could have fucked her?' cracked Frank again.
'That's right!' boasted Rodney.
'Why didn't ya?' Frank inquired
'She was German!'
Frank looked over at him, 'you said that she came from Gratz!'
'That's right!' Rodney insisted.
Frank shook his head, 'Gratz is in Austria numb nuts.' The guys laughed.
'You were to dumb to fuck her!' pointed out Jon
'Fuck you Horse Shoe!, Ihaaa I didn't fuck her because the Germans don't use soap!'
'She was Austrian retard!'
'What do you mean?' I asked.
Rodney explained, 'I went into a store and I couldn't find soap anywhere.'
'You were probably in a bakery.' Cracked Acid.
'No! wait, What do you mean the Germans don't use soap?' asked Karin (who is German).
'I, I went into this store and I looked everywhere and I couldn't find any soap.' came the awaited explanation.
'You really must be stupid if you think the German people don't use soap!'
Rodney had finally been embarrassed and got up, 'Fuck yaall!'
'What's up with you man?' asked Rich.
'Fuck youall!' He said turning around and making for the river.
About 10 seconds later.
'What the fuck did you bring that dude for?' Said Jon turning to Bill.
'Hay man I just wanted to save a buck.' He explained shrugging his shoulders.
'Well' continued Jon,' I hope it was worth it!'
An hour and a few beers later Rodney was back at the camp again apparently in a good mood. 'Back at home we wrestle alligators.' He started.
'Do ya.' Came the uninterested reply. He got in a stance like he was going to pounce on some make believe alligator and continued with his story. 'Ya tackle the bastard from behind!' he explained taking a swig and flashing us a flex. 'ya grab em around the throat with your one arm while holding their mouth shut with the other. Then you take some rope and wrap it around their mouth like this.' He demonstrated.
'Shut the fuck up!' said Jon.
'You shut the fuck up horse shoe.'
'Man you are so full shit. Are you trying to make us believe that you wrestled alligators?' we laughed at how absurd it sounded as Jon drilled him further.
'Horse Shoe you better sch shut the fuck up!' Rodney yelled pointing at him with his beer bottle.
Some of the guys who were pretty drunk were kinda getting a kick of this shit and kept eggin him on. 'SSSo what do you do,.. after you got the string on.'
Rodney had found his audience' Ohh it cant be any ol string!' he continued, 'its gota be a rope!'
About an hour later.
Much to the relief of everyone Rodney had stopped his stories, in fact he was laying down on the pavement mumbling some incoherent shit to himself. 'Better,' I thought to myself, ' just stay over their!' as I bit into my schwiensteak and took a swig of beer and chatted with the guys.
'Ahhhh! Ahhhh! God Damn it! Ahhh!' Rodney yelled now standing up bent over holding his head his voice echoing through out the mountains.
'Shut the fuck up!' yelled Jon as Rodney made his way over to the group punching himself in the head mumbling something about a migraine.
'Migraine! Its called being burnt to a crisp and drinking all afternoon go over to the river and wash up stud!'
But he didn't hear anything he was bent over yelling again.
'Man what the fuck is your problem!'
'I've got a migraine cant you see that!' he said in tears pressing his temples with his palms. 'Ahhhha!'
' Man we don't want to hear that shit go the fuck over their!'
'Fuck yaall! Just fuck yaall!' He said in tears turning around walking back toward the empty parking lot. The topic had of course changed over to Rodney and what a freak he was while we watched him batter his head with his palm.
'I kinda like how he does that.' Cracked Jon
5 minutes later
Rodney was back demanding that someone take him to the hospital.
'Hospital you need to get rehydrated, go over to the river stud!'
But he wasn't listening, the yelling spasms became more frequent as he pointlessly wandered around the camp.
'I need a Tylenol 3! Can't you see that?! I've had this before and it wont get better! You've got to take me to the hospital!' he walked about 30 feet from the group and screamed pressing his temples with palms. Finally after lots of begging and basically in the hope that he would opt to stay the night in the clinic I agreed to take him to the hospital.
Karin, Rodney and I piled into the Honda. I let it roll up to speed before popping the clutch the motor turned over and we were off driving in silence for the next 20 minutes till we arrived in the hospital in Neu Stift, a tiny facility with maybe a half a dozen staff members. But in this case the size of the institution does not reflect on how well prepared they are, you see this hospital serves as the first medical contact for the unfortunate skiers who are injured in the surrounding mountains. In other words their ready for just about any type of injury. 'Just tell them I need a Tylenol 3!' Rodney screamed as we walked in the waiting room.
'Haben Sie Tylenol, es ist fΓΌr Kopfschmerzen.' I asked
'Ein was?' answered the receptionist.
'Tylenol' I repeated.
'Das haben wir nicht' she replied.
'They don't have that here.' I translated to Rodney. Rodney in an act of desperation pushed me out of the way to address the receptionist.
'Don't you understand?!' he screamed in tears, 'I need a Tylenol 3!'
The receptionist, shocked, spoke to him in her best English. 'You will have to wait for da doctor!'
Rodney angry that he wouldn't be receiving special service dropped in the next available chair and started ramming his head on the wall behind him. A young girl and her mother were sitting in the same row of chairs as Rodney. They got up and moved to another part of the room as the stud rammed away.
Boom! Boom! Boom! 'Ahhha!' He screamed again holding his head.
The doctor having since been alerted by the receptionist came into the room. He was appalled at the studs behaviour and came over to us to see what he could do
'Can I help you?'
Rodney who had buried his head in his hands looked up at him, 'yes doctor, I have a migraine and need a Tylenol 3.'
The doctor explained that that was a brand name used exclusively in English speaking countries and that he could give him something else.
'That wont work!' insisted Rodney very irritated that he wouldn't be having his way, 'You don't understand! I've tried the other stuff before and it doesn't work, I need Tylenol 3!'
The doctor explained that he would give him 3 tablets which weren't for normal every day aces, but instead for serious pain.
Rodney wasn't satisfied and started yelling around the waiting room. 'No you don't understand I need Tylenol 3. What kind of a fuckin place is this?! I just need Tylinol3! a Tylenol 3 get it! Fuckin 3rd world country! A Tylenol get it!' the stud yelled.
The doctor's patience had come to an end, 'you will not find this product in Austria, probably not even in central Europe!' he explained firmly escorting us to the door. 'Take the pills I give you and you O.K. in zee morning.' He explained. pushing us out the door.
After getting back to the camp Rodney grabbed a beer and took off in the direction of the parking lot. 'He's pukeing.' said someone. Sure enough Rodney was busy sticking his fingers down his throat pukeing up a few gallons or so of beer, stomach acid and of course the pill he had just gotten from the clinic. We were sick of his shit though and ignored him really taken back as to how dumb someone could really be. He came back to the group and started in on the awful 3rd world clinic.
'Shut the fuck up!' came the aggravated answer from Jon.
'Are you a doctor?' drilled Rodney, 'Are you a doctor? I need Tylenol.'
'Its just a brand name you idiot the stuff you got may have been twice as strong as your damn Tylenol.' Countered Jon.
'Twice as strong as Tylenol! pfff shut up, just shut the fuck up!' continued Rodney. 'Why don't you go somewhere else?' said Frank looking at him.
'Fuck yaall! Ill stay here.'
'Fine.' We did our best to ignore his stupid ass till he finally announced that he was going to bed
.
It was relaxing without Rodney, everyone laid back around the grill on their make shift chairs. Jon was busy telling stories, some of which were believable some that weren't, but, he was a great story teller so we kept him going. He went on about out running the cops in his Mach I, and then filled us in on intimate details about fucking Alice on the rock. But for me the highlight of the evening was his story about getting chlamydia of the mouth in the Philippines. I liked that one.
The next morning we were woken by the cows again who had taken interest in Rodney's puke greedily licking the pavement spotless. Rodney was grumpy and announced that he was going to stay at the base till we came back down from skiing but then changed his mind again, probably not wanting to surpass another encounter with the chicks that were hot for him at the top or maybe he reasoned as to how miserable it could get hanging out at the base all by yourself. Whatever the case we enjoyed yet another day in the high alps before finally taking the gondola down to the 1600m base and heeding off back to Frankfurt.
Occasionally something will trigger flash backs setting me back to those hot summer days camping out on the ski resorts parking lot. We were a young tightly knit group devoted to fun, who loved to argue and fight and push each other to the point of utter exhaustion, it was great. Then reality sets back in. When your living overseas its celebrating typical American events, like the 4th, that make you feel almost homesick and even more aware of your nationality. Which perhaps explains why that 4th of July celebration, now almost 20 years ago, was my last.
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