I love shrimp!  When we were young and starting out it was something I didn't get very often.  One day, Tricia bought some for me and I sat at the kitchen table eating away and in heaven.  Adam, who was about 3 at the time, came walking into the kitchen.  He was so cute as he walked up to the kitchen table, the top on the table right about eye height for him.  I smiled at him as I sucked down another shrimp and was about to see if he would try one when his face glazed over and then curled up into what I knew was gonna be a blood curtailing scream.  I wasn't wrong.  as he started to scream, I jumped up thinking he must of got his fingers caught in the table or something.   I can't find anything wrong, but he's screaming like his leg was just cut off.  Tricia comes running in picks Adam up and asks him what's the matter.   In the cutest voice, you have ever heard scream, he says "Daddy's eating Caterpillars!"  ;-)

Back in 1984 we bought a Ford Ranger pickup truck.  After having it for about 8 months we started having a problem were it wouldn't start if it was real cold. (A story in itself which I'll shelter you from by not telling it)  We complained after it had been in 3 times to be fixed that we wanted a rental and we wanted a truck, after all that is what we had.    They loaned us a brand new full size F150, bright red.  One morning I took the truck to work.  Upon coming out I walked up the isle where I had parked the truck thinking about a problem at work.  Eventually I came to the end of the row and realized I hadn't seen the rental truck.   I walked back down the row and there was the red F150 (pheewwww), as I walked around the corner I noticed the entire drivers side of the truck was caved in.  All I could think of was "This isn't my truck this ones all wrecked"   Well it turns out this WAS my truck and an explanitory note on the windshield said "I scraped your truck", with a name and a phone number.  The car dealer didn't think it was amusing, however we still joke when we see a banged up truck "This isn't MY truck, this ones all wrecked!"

Speaking of sayings that stick with ya forever.  I remember when Tricia and I were first dating.  Another couple (Wayne and Marry Jo), whom we hung around with, called us one day all excited because they had just bought a new car and wanted to show it to us.  So they brought it over to Tricia's and we both ran out to see it.  It was a beautiful 1967 corvette, blue with white strips down the side, header pips running down the entire length of the car.  We certainly were impressed.  Then Wayne told us we had to hear it and jumped in to start it.  Well first off when it started it sounded like we should be ducking for cover, things pinging and thumping, almost sounded like 2 or more of the pistons weren't connected to anything.  If the sound wasn't bad enough the car coughed up enough smoke to kill any mosquitos within 20 miles.  We tried not to look as stunned as we were and we just smiled.  Wayne must of seen our look of concern anyway because he said "It needs an oil change"  So now anytime we see a car billowing smoke or sounding like the motor is about to come through the hood, we say "Needs an oil change!"

Suzzie will kill me for telling this, but it was funny.  Tricia and I decided   to go out to a sportsbar and watch Monday night Football and called our friends Dawn and Suzzie.  We ended up at a bar in North Reading we had never been to.   Kind of sleazy place, but I don't need to go into that.   The bartender comes over to the table and asks what we want.  Dawn loves Long Island Ice teas (a five liquor drink for our friend that doesn't drink) and asked the bartender for one.   The bartender replied "we can only do two liquor drinks" to which Suzzie asked "oh? which two?"

If the spring of 1996 Tricia and I took a trip to a tropic island called Antigua.   The first morning we were there we went and listened to an introduction to the island.  Tricia and I have never been ones to follow the crowd or do touristy things when we go somewhere, but we went anyway to see what the Island had to offer.   As the presentation went on Tricia and I sat in the back talking softly about things we might want to do.  I'm not sure why but we tend to draw a crowd and after the presentation was over we had people asking us questions.  It's funny sometimes that people aren't willing to try something.  Not that we mind, Tricia and I like fun groups anyway, especially taking people to do something they have never done before.   Anyway, we decided one of things we wanted to do was go horse back riding on a beach.  We signed up with a stable (I use the term loosely and you'll see why as we continue) for the next day.  A married couple and another couple of friends asked if they could join us. The stable was to pick us up the next day out in front of the hotel for a afternoon horse ride on the beach.  We hung around with our new friends the rest of that day and had a great time exploring the hotel, laying on the beach, and dinner.

The next day we all met down in front of the hotel at the designated time and shortly there after a nice Mini Van shows up with "something stables" written on it.   It wasn't ours but we all got a little more excited with anticipation.  We waited around talking and before long a guy shows up in torn jeans, dirty ripped T-shirt, and no shoes.  He's calling our name. (I should of worried about here, but we're adventurous remember)  We follow him out into the parking lot and he points us to a very decrepit and old Datsun pickup truck. Actually to even call it a truck is high praise for this wreck and it deserves a little more description.  I'd guess it to be about a 1985 Datsun pickup.  The interior was gutted, the dashboard was missing and gauges hung from wires, there were no door panels and no side windows could be seen.  The seats were a couple of pillows sitting on the wire frame of the original seat. (We later found out he walked in to get us because the hotel wouldn't let them drive this POS up to the hotel.)  My suspicions were again raised, but hey we're adventurous remember?   You won't find us out on some bus tour!  The 6 of us manage to crowd onto little benches stuck in the bed and off we went. 

As we drove I remember watching the edges of the Island disappear as we headed deeper into the interior of the Island.  I suppose now would be a good time to talk about a typical Caribbean Island.  The majority of them are dirt poor.  Some hotel resort chain comes in, buys up a piece of land, puts up a fancy hotel, hires locals for next to nothing, and reaps the benefits.  The Islands themselves remain poor with substandard living.  Antigua is no exception.  Outside of the resort, for the most part, it looks like a dump.  We drove past schools with dirt floors and no windows, shacks that you could kick over, and trash all over the place.

I keep expecting to pull through a big gate and into a huge stable.  It never happen and we eventually stopped on a little back road in the middle of nowhere. The horses are tied there along with a small group of kids. We hop out of the truck and I'm trying to be upbeat but in reality I was at this point even a little fearful of our lives.  One of the kids is even carrying a machete.  The horses look very poorly cared for and I find myself choosing my words carefully as we talk to this group.  They explain that there is a short ride to get to the beach, then we will ride on two separate beaches.  The POS truck will pick us up at the second beach.  One of the kids (no more then maybe 12) is going to be our guide.  We work out who will ride what horse.  Tricia and I take the two wildest horses, as both of us have ridden a number of times.  At this point, I'm at least a little more confident we're not gonna be robbed or killed.

We mount up and head off, single file, through what I suppose they would call a neighbor hood.  Looked more like a temporary tent city to me.  We rode on dirt roads, through peoples yards, ducking under overhangs of some of these shakes.  Dogs, goats, chickens, and cows running all about with us.  I figure it's an Island, given enough time  we're going to hit a coastline.

The first event of the ride began when one of the girls (Kathy) horse decided it was horny.  Every cow/goat/dog/tree that we went by it wanted a piece of.  At one point it actually got it's front legs up on the back of a cow we wandered by.  The guide/kid comes back and gives her a little stick and tells her to whack him with it if he does it again.  My horse always wants to run, I'm forever holding it back and when it does run everyone else's horse goes to a gallop to keep up.  Well for the people that had never been on a horse a gallop is not fun.

The houses/shacks/tents start thinning out as we go along and pretty soon we are on a muddy dirt road that is raised with both sides about 5 ft lower and sortof looking like rice fields, without the rice.  It looked kind of strange and I can remember trying to decide if the fields were solid or fluid.  Then the smell hit us and I no longer needed to wonder, we were ridding through the Islands septic fields.  Trust me when I say Antigua does not have an EPA.  Even the horses wanted to run, but running kicked up mud (or was it mud) from the road.  We all complained but the guide/kid seemed oblivious, this was natural to him, and he said we would be out in a few minutes.  A long long few minutes later the smell somewhat diminished.  The fields were gone and the road dry.  A new smell replaced the old one.  Now the air was heavy with the smell of oil.  A look around and you could see the Islands Electric power plant off to the right.  A look down and you can see small streams of oil running along both sides of the road.  Again, the EPA obviously doesn't exist here.  I look around to check on the crew we are with and people looked discussed.  I think they hate me.   Kathy is towards the back and her horse has found a goat that it thinks would make a great Mom.  Kathy is lightly hitting it with her stick saying "stop it"   "stop it"  You had to be there but at least this scene of humor made us forget where we were for a few minutes.

Finally I think I can see the edge of the Island and within a few miles we cross a road and head out onto a beach.   HEAVEN, I think - It's a beautiful beach - things are looking up!  Wrong!!! My horse is even more intent on running and everyone else's horse heads for the water.  Tricia, the guide, and I all hold our horses, but for everyone else without any ridding experience they end up in the water.  Worse then the fact they head into the water, they all lay down.  All 4 of the other people are now floating in the ocean and their horses are running wildly up the beach.  The guide goes after them, he jumps down off his to grab one of them and ends up loosing both of them.  Tricia and I round up the now 5 horses and things finally settle down a little.  (apparently this is where they bring the horses to bathe)  3 of the 4 people that came with us won't get back on their horses.  We lead their horses and they walk to the next beach because the POS truck is picking us up at the next beach.

The ride back to the resort couldn't go without incident.  On the way back the driver of the truck stops by his house (or I assume it was his house and calling it a house is again high praise) and gets into a fight with his wife/girlfriend.

Believe it or not after all that the people that went with us hung around and did stuff with us all week.  Although it was an unbelievable blundering it was way outside the scope of anything they would have done and we all laughed about the whole thing all week.   We also got most of them to try parasailing.   I'm sure they still refer to us as "those wackos we met in Antigua".