Military Speeches?

The night was wild, filled with booze, too much booze, liver pickling quantities.

It started not so casually with an onslaught of 3-dollar mondo 32 oz. troughs of bronze ale down at the pub. I lapped up the beer at a solid clip and my cheeks began to redden like a Dutch porcelain doll.

There was a band playing in the background that was actually quite good. They sounded like an unpolished, fresh-faced version of Phish with a twist of sax-fueled jazz. Soon the bar became quite crowded and the ability to obtain drinks from the barkeep became a tiresome task that was more sobering than anything. My friend named Andrew and I decided to depart from the bar and head back towards our apartment and finish the remaining beverages

As we arrived back at our third story flat, the decision was made to step out onto the balcony and try to reek some havoc as innocent collegians trudged past. This was done in the past and proved both hilarious and self-satisfying.

We crept out through the window tiptoeing across the 30-foot gap between the balcony and the ground and were safely situated atop one of the highest buildings in Oneonta. Some way or another the bizarre idea to recite a very famous Bill Pullman speech across the valley was conjured up. Was it because he was an alumnus from our school? Was it the power of the words? Was it the fact that it was single best speech I’ve heard given by a President real or fake in my entire life? Who really knows, but madness ensued.

I spoke to Andrew, “I’m going to get my lap top so I can look up some Pullman.”

I appeared back onto the porch seconds later with the speech pulled up on the screen. My soul giggled like a middle school prankster and then it began …

“Good morning. In less than an hour, aircraft from here will join others from around the world. And you will be launching the largest aerial battle in this history of mankind.”

Our voices were booming, it was like we had bullhorns planted deep within our chest cavities. We heard voices coming from across the street, but were too involved at the task in hand and kept hollering the speech.

“Mankind -- that word should have new meaning for all of us today.
We can't be consumed by our petty differences anymore.
We will be united in our common interests.”

Soon the voices became louder and rivaled our decibel level.

“Shut the fuck upppppppppppp!”
“Fuck you assholes!”
“STOPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!”

People screamed at us, maybe the crowds weren’t opening their arms and cradling our brilliant idea and hoarse voices the way we thought they would. Screw them we thought, this is too valuable of a moment to let slip into the ether.

“Perhaps it’s fate that today is the 4th of July, and you will once again be fighting for our freedom, not from tyranny, oppression, or persecution -- but from annihilation.”

“We're fighting for our right to live, to exist. And should we win the day, the 4th of July will no longer be known as an American holiday, but as the day when the world declared in one voice”

The climax was coming up, we were delivering this speech like George Bush wishes he could. Our voices were on the verge of complete failure, every word was raspier than the last. Finally, the best part of the speech had come and I reached deep with in my body to grab every bit of patriotism and leadership that I could find…

"We will not go quietly into the night!
We will not vanish without a fight!
We're going to live on!
We're going to survive!"

Today, we celebrate our Independence Day!

Exhausted from pushing my voice to the limit I collapsed backward onto the balcony looking up at the sky, at a star, and somewhere Bill Pullman was looking at the same star, smiling proudly … he was not forgotten.

Renaissance Fair:

For reasons I will never fully understand, a couple of my friends and I attended the renaissance fair in the not so friendly confines of Sterling Forest, New York.

The trip itself was a drain on my life, wasteful time that was better spent amongst the reality of the 21st century. The beings that attended this event were Okie-like dungeons and dragons freaks that were seeing their ultimate wet dream explode into the year 2005. The most unnerving part of the predicament was that a fee of $20 was demanded at the “shire gates.”

My perception and mind state upon entering the fair was crippled by the weight of a potent blend of haze that was smoked from a glass pipe. The stage was set for something interesting to happen.

My friends and I are gliding along, gawking at these goddamn circus freaks dressed in their finest medieval clothing. Men wore tights, strange hats with feathers sticking out, and of course swords were latched onto their belt loops. Women wore dresses that extenuated their breasts, and were accompanied by bizarre headdresses, which perched upon their hair like bird nests.

Amongst all of these subhuman creatures and the infinite thin air that existed in between us an encounter was bound to occur. As luck would have it that the encounter would be “thrown,” pun intended, right into my face.

I’m walking along the left side of the mud path on the plush grass avoiding the mass rush of slog heading to the right. I am looking down watching my step while my brain is pulsating within its skull, just begging for some sanity. A split second later a barrage of liquids is splashing towards me, chaos ensues. A women aged about 25 years old falls to the ground in front of me grappling in pain. Her brow is sweaty, her eyes are wincing in pain, and I’m suddenly frozen in the suffocating August heat.

She starts yelping at the top of her lungs, “AHHHHHHHHH…JESUS…MY KNEE…OH GOOD LORD….IT POPPED OUT.”

Her screams for pain would’ve been understandable if her accent wasn’t that of a 14th century Roman warrior succumbing to the pain of crucifixion.

My friend forewarned me that the people at the Renaissance Fair always stayed in character and liked to role-play. Remembering this I glanced toward the hysterical women and simply muttered, “It’s a joke…funny joke, hahaha, impressive performance.”

Suddenly a slew of her compatriot Renaissance loving freaks came running to her rescue. Was she hurt? What was going on? Suddenly I hear, “Paramedics! Get the god damn paramedics.” I quickly scampered from the scene in absolute shock. This woman was injured, seriously injured and I stood over her stoned, and blank, laughing it off as a joke. At this point I had completely given up on the fair and cursed every last feature of it.

This marks the end of “I Can’t Believe it Happened Either,” stay tuned, because I just might experience another unbelievable incident.

Questions or comments? E-mail icass83@yahoo.com