Soar with the Eagles
Apr. 21st, 2006 10:40 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jack_babalonThe alarm clock peeled me off a strip of sleep and slapped me back into reality. It was stupid early. Bootcamp early. It was the early known primarily to meth-heads, the homeless, christian health fanatics and other assorted madmen to horrible to think about right now. I just sat there on the edge of my bed letting the Pre-dawn darkness soak into the brain.
I remember back in the Nav, Chief Edwald going ballastic on a bunch of us for oversleeping and showing up a few minutes after Colors for the morning muster. Our ship was docked right outside of Cartagena, Columbia and a few us spent our first night of Liberty going around town and drinking. Somehow we all piled into a cab and accidentally wound up in some whore house on the outstretch of town. The beer was warm, tasted like formaldahyde and smelt like stale piss. It didn't matter because the ladies who ran the place looked they stepped out of Hemingway's wetdreams. They all had sunset complexions, hair black as coal and their lipstick was the blood of rituals. I had blown all my money drinking though and was too broke to afford the attention I required. I did have enough for a dance though and I grabbed this young little lady and we stepped on the dance floor to some kind of Columbian Casio driven slow tempo pop song. She held me close and we swayed together to the beat. I laid my head in the nape of her shoulder and I still remember how her breasts smelled like the rain.
"MOSCA! I HOPE YOU GOT YOUR BEAUTY REST THERE SLEEPING BEAUTY BECAUSE YOU'RE GONNA HAVE TO REPAINT THE BULKHEADS DOWN IN THE FOREWARD PUMP ROOM....BUT FIRST I'M GONNA NEED YOU TO GIVE THE #1EVAP ANOTHER CLEANING... IT LOOKS LIKE SHIT... AND SO DO YOU... WHAT DID YOU SHAVE WITH THIS MORNING...A ROCK? AND FOR CHRISSAKES TUCK IN YOUR SHIRT!"
"I'm sorry Chief. It's just..."
"I DON'T WANNA HEAR IT MOSCA! 'IF YOU'RE GONNA HANG WITH THE OWLS ALL NIGHT YOU BETTER BE READY TO SOAR WITH THE EAGLES IN THE MORNING..."
Chief Edwald was a cross between a scarecrow and a rabid pit-bull. He couldn't have weighed more than 120 pounds and he had a bushy moustache and a thick pair of thick black of NAVY Regulation glasses that magnified his eyes so as to give the illusion that he was either always surprised and/or always super pissed.
I still have nightmares about him actually.
So here I am some 15 years later. I have to get out of work early today to catch a flight out of town and that means if i'm getting out early I best be getting in early as well. I haven't slept much the last 48 hours. Last night my friend and I fleshed out the script to a short movie and then had a few drinks to celebrate his birthday. The night before that ... was magical and not to be spoken of in a public post. Needless to say it's been Insomnorama here lately and I look forward to a few good nights of scoring some solid Z's.
I shuffle to bathroom. And just for old times sake, I get ready to soar with the Eagles once again.
I remember back in the Nav, Chief Edwald going ballastic on a bunch of us for oversleeping and showing up a few minutes after Colors for the morning muster. Our ship was docked right outside of Cartagena, Columbia and a few us spent our first night of Liberty going around town and drinking. Somehow we all piled into a cab and accidentally wound up in some whore house on the outstretch of town. The beer was warm, tasted like formaldahyde and smelt like stale piss. It didn't matter because the ladies who ran the place looked they stepped out of Hemingway's wetdreams. They all had sunset complexions, hair black as coal and their lipstick was the blood of rituals. I had blown all my money drinking though and was too broke to afford the attention I required. I did have enough for a dance though and I grabbed this young little lady and we stepped on the dance floor to some kind of Columbian Casio driven slow tempo pop song. She held me close and we swayed together to the beat. I laid my head in the nape of her shoulder and I still remember how her breasts smelled like the rain.
"MOSCA! I HOPE YOU GOT YOUR BEAUTY REST THERE SLEEPING BEAUTY BECAUSE YOU'RE GONNA HAVE TO REPAINT THE BULKHEADS DOWN IN THE FOREWARD PUMP ROOM....BUT FIRST I'M GONNA NEED YOU TO GIVE THE #1EVAP ANOTHER CLEANING... IT LOOKS LIKE SHIT... AND SO DO YOU... WHAT DID YOU SHAVE WITH THIS MORNING...A ROCK? AND FOR CHRISSAKES TUCK IN YOUR SHIRT!"
"I'm sorry Chief. It's just..."
"I DON'T WANNA HEAR IT MOSCA! 'IF YOU'RE GONNA HANG WITH THE OWLS ALL NIGHT YOU BETTER BE READY TO SOAR WITH THE EAGLES IN THE MORNING..."
Chief Edwald was a cross between a scarecrow and a rabid pit-bull. He couldn't have weighed more than 120 pounds and he had a bushy moustache and a thick pair of thick black of NAVY Regulation glasses that magnified his eyes so as to give the illusion that he was either always surprised and/or always super pissed.
I still have nightmares about him actually.
So here I am some 15 years later. I have to get out of work early today to catch a flight out of town and that means if i'm getting out early I best be getting in early as well. I haven't slept much the last 48 hours. Last night my friend and I fleshed out the script to a short movie and then had a few drinks to celebrate his birthday. The night before that ... was magical and not to be spoken of in a public post. Needless to say it's been Insomnorama here lately and I look forward to a few good nights of scoring some solid Z's.
I shuffle to bathroom. And just for old times sake, I get ready to soar with the Eagles once again.
