412 Farmington Ave, Apt 101 Hartford, CT Clemens Place Apartments

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This address is where the following events happened while I lived there with my three kids, Ava, Bella and Dylan.  Historically speaking, I couldn’t find much about the building other than it was built in the 1930s.  I don’t know of its past residents or of any tragedies that occurred here.  All I know is something is there and that something made life interesting.

I moved in late summer of 2012 and for a while everything was fine, well as fine as it could be living in a a two bedroom apartment with three kids, two cats and one hamster.  It wasn’t until April of 2013 when odd things started happen.  Well I should say odd things were always there but I just didn’t realize it until afterwards.  I’ll get back to that later.

In April of 2013 my dad had flown from AZ to come on a road trip to Disney with me and the kids.  I had arranged for my friend Amy to come and feed my cats and the hamster at least once a day.  Instructions were simple, feed the animals and make sure the kids door is closed so the cats don’t eat the hamster.  The vacation is going great.  Kids are having fun and life is good.  After a few days I call Amy to make sure everything is going well and other than a minor ant problem and the cats throwing up things were fine.  “You’ve got some ninja cats!” Amy said to me.  Why do I have ninja cats?  Well she proceeds to tell me how every day she leaves she makes sure the kids door is closed and when she comes back the next day its wide open again and a pile of Polly Pockets are on the floor. 

Let me pause here for a second.   A few things to mention at this point. 

A) The Polly Pockets thing was something I have noticed and figured the cats for some reason liked to play with them.  I’d come home from work and every day there was four or five of the little things in a pile in the hallway.

B) There was no opening that door easily.  My cats are smart but they are not ninjas.  There’s no way possible they could open this door.  I was confused by all this but I decided to chalk it up to the fact that maybe Amy just forgot to close the door…every day.  Amy shares the goings on with me and the conversation ends as does the vacation.  We get back home and life goes back to normal for a few weeks.

At the time, things were difficult for the kids.  Fresh off a divorce, they missed their mother and I’m certain they were not comfortable (nor was I) with our current living situation.  To say the kids fought often was an understatement.  They were all more sensitive than usual but Dylan was having a seemingly more difficult time than the girls.  His fuse was non-existent and he would get angry with his sisters which led to a lot of tear filled tantrums.  I was struggling with how to get him to change this behavior and decided one night that maybe if he could see how he was acting it would make a difference so I made a video of him mid-tantrum  in his bedroom.  What I saw on this video afterwards made my stomach drop.  Most of you I’m sure have seen videos or pictures of what ghost people refer to as orbs.  They’re balls of light that appear in pictures of zoom through a video, usually one or two seen for a split second.  I was watching the video and about 30 seconds in something zips past the lens, comes back, kind of floats in front of Dylan's face, then zips back off the screen.  Then it comes back and is joined by another little ball of light.  Then another.  And then one more enters the screen.  I watched as they circled around Dylan's head, zipping in and out of visual like little tiny laser beams.  I first though maybe it was dust but dust just floats, whatever this was had was moving fast.  I considered maybe they were bugs but bugs are visible and I would have seen bugs flying around my sons head.  I shared the video with a few people, all who had the similar “holy shit” type reaction that I had.  Amy, the cat watcher, suggested I take a video when Dylan wasn’t angry so I did and the video showed nothing but Dylan being Dylan.  I didn’t want to see nothing.  I wanted to see the same thing as before so I could make sense of it.  There wasn’t much sense to be made at this point.  As weird as all these things were it wasn’t scary or anything so I didn’t really think about it too much at this point.  This would change pretty quickly over the next few months.

The first time the “shit got real” as some would say was during the first few weeks of May.  Ava, my oldest would stay up a little later than the other two and I would let her stay in the living room to watch a movie or just hang out.  This one night right before Ava was to go to bed, Ava and I were talking about something random when all of a sudden I hear a little girls laugh come from directly behind me (which was a loveseat against a brick wall).  I turned quickly and saw nothing.  I didn’t want to scare Ava so I didn’t mention what I just heard but she instantly said “daddy did you just hear that?  I just heard a little girl laughing!!”  I tried to deny I heard it but I could tell Ava didn’t buy into the lie as she went to bed with her door closed for the first time since we lived there.  I didn’t sleep that night.

About a week had passed and there wasn’t anything new that had happened until one night late after the kids went to bed.  I was laying in my bed (which happened to be in the living room) when all of a sudden a few of the left over candy filled plastic Easter eggs fell from the loveseat and onto the floor, spilling candy all over.  Instantly I thought it was the cats but they were nowhere to be found.  I went to look for them and they were both in Ava’s room, which had the door closed as she now did on a nightly basis.  You may think these eggs could have been close to the edge and just naturally rolled off but let me tell you they were not near the edge.  I remember putting them on the chair and they had to be moved to end up on the floor.  It happened within feet of me and the feeling that followed was fear.  Something was there and something was watching me.  I felt eyes on me from somewhere in my apartment.  The candy stayed on the floor.  I stared at the wall and again did not sleep that night.

After this night, nothing happened for quite some time.  I thought maybe it was gone.  What I didn’t realize was it was just building up for something else.  Fast forward to late May.  Every night Dylan would lay on his bedroom floor and play his video games until it was time for bed.  It was about 7:30 pm, the girls were in the living room and I was in the kitchen when all of a sudden Dylan starts to scream and cry randomly.  I run to his room and he is laying on the floor crying in pain complaining about his leg.  I told him to stand up and when he does I notice this cut going across the back of his left calf, blood trickling down.  I quickly get a paper towel and tried to get him to tell me what happened.  He said he was just laying there and all of sudden he felt a burning feeling on his leg.  I asked if the cats were under the bed.  No daddy.  Did you scrape your leg?  No daddy.  I had no explanation.  I decided to blame it on something he brushed up against which we both knew did not happen.  The very next night, I had just gotten Dylan out of the shower and I brought him into his bedroom to help him get changed.  I realized I forgot his t-shirt in the living room so I left the room to get it.  The second I left the room, Dylan screamed in pain.  I quickly turned to see him standing in the same spot with a fresh cut going down the same leg from the night previous.  Blood trickling down his leg.  

Tears flooded his eyes and I knew he was terrified.  I had no explanation to give.  He asked me if there was a ghost and I had no choice but to explain to him that I thought there was one.  Thinking back to the video of him along with everything else that had happened it all became clear to me.  I had the spirit of a little girl in my home and she was not too fond of little boys.  She was the one opening the door to get into the bedroom.  She was the one playing with the Polly pockets every day.  She was the one who took it upon herself to make Dylan aware she didn’t like him one bit.  I had him lay in bed and tell the ghost to nicely go away.  I explained to him that now the ghost had to leave and he was going to be safe.  Thankfully he accepted this and fell asleep.  I sat by his bed to make sure. 

After I left the kids bedroom I turned to go towards the living room and instantly felt someone watching me as I went down the hall.  I didn’t have to turn around.  I knew it was there.  The hairs on my arm and next was standing straight and I had chills running down my spine.  I was scared shitless.  I tried to lay down but couldn’t.  I knew whatever it was, was close to the kids bedroom and that had me worried but I was filled with terror and couldn’t move from where I was standing in the kitchen.  Within minutes I heard “DADDY!” come from Dylan’s room.  I ran to the bedroom only to find Dylan and Bella sound asleep.  I checked Ava’s room and she too was sleeping.  As I was in Ava’s room I heard sounds coming from my kitchen.  I heard what clearly was the sound of the tea kettle being dragged across the burner.  I decided to go outside of the apartment for a moment to call my mother.  I was losing it and needed her to calm me down.  I stepped outside and as I was outside on the phone I could feel her watching me.  She followed me and was watching as I spoke of her to my mother.  I know it sounds crazy to you reading this when I say she was watching me but if you were there and felt what I felt it would make sense.  It is the most disturbing feeling to feel.  It is a paralyzing feeling.  My mother talked me into speaking to the ghost so I decided to go back into the apartment and have a conversation with whatever this thing was.

I laid on my bed and as I did both cats immediately jumped up and sat right next to me.  I was messaging my sister and was trying to describe what was happening so I snapped some pictures which I sent over to her.   Minutes later I heard pots and pans being moved around in the kitchen.  I hid under my covers and kept saying “please go away you are not welcome here” over and over and over again until eventually I fell asleep.

The next morning I went to work and was discussing the previous nights events with some friends who were following along my updates of the night on Facebook.  My friend Amy, who I was texting with, took one look at one of the pictures I sent my sister and said “what the f*** is that!!?”  I still can’t describe what is in this picture but led to me calling the rental office to make sure they were aware I would be moving out when my lease was up.

Is that an arm reaching out to touch the cat?  Is that her black hair trailing her as she runs past?  What's with the vapor trail?  I look at this picture now I can practically feel that very moment.  Withing seconds of this picture being taken noises came from the kitchen which is the direction that entity in the picture was heading.

After that night and until we moved out the activity stopped.  Maybe all it needed to hear was that it was not welcome.  Maybe it did what it had to do and left.  I moved out with the kids at the end of September and things have been peaceful.  There is more to this story I believe.  I believe this spirit has followed me from place to place ever since I moved back in ’95.  What happened at Clemens place reminded me of things that happened in other places too all which felt oddly connected to each other.  I left Clemens place with the belief that this spirit attached itself to me for some reason and feeling that I was close to letting her go she decided to show her disapproval which is what those nights were all about.  In the end I hope she did let go and decided to leave me, my family and herself to rest and enjoy the peace we all deserve to have.

The Unstoppable Duo

Many of us, if not all, had that one friend when you were young that you spent your practically every waking hour of your childhood with.  When I was in first grade I met mine and our friendship lasted all the way to freshman year of high school before I moved to MN.  It was like him and I were the modern day Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer.   We did everything together and a big reason for who I am today is because of the adventures we shared.

I met Andrew when my parents moved us to Nachilly Dr. in New Britain.  I wasn’t introduced to Andrew but to the kid that lived across the street.  I have no idea what his name was but I remember he had a pinball machine and bragged about it like it was the Scarlett Johannsen of pinball machines.  I couldn’t stand this kid.  He and Andrew were best friends and I was just the younger annoying new kid being forced upon them.  That was until the kid across the street moved.  His parents and mine became friendly and felt it was a good idea for him and I to be pals so poor Andrew was handed the daunting task of being my best friend.  I could tell he wasn’t too excited about this.  Around the ages of 5 and 6 I was what you could call overly sensitive (I was a big freaking baby to be honest.)  This little fact drove Andrew nuts so one day when we were riding bikes around he stopped, told me to get off my bike and punched me as hard as he could right in my shoulder.  Within seconds I could feel my lower lip start to quiver and my eyes getting watery but just as I was about to just let the tears fall Andrew yelled “DON’T YOU DARE CRY!” And I didn’t.  I did the post cry sniffle, wiped the tears away and realized he was right.  I was about to cry over something that didn’t even really hurt.  After this moment, our friendship began.

Our school was about a half mile walk that we would take every day.  He would meet me at my house and we’d go down my street and then up the next.  Try letting a 6 and 7 year old walk to school now and you’d be reported to DCF but back then you would walk to school as a kindergartner and no one would bat an eye.  We would normally stick to the streets but after a few trial hikes we starting taking the path through “the woods”.   Behind the houses across the street from me was a large wooded area that had a path that went to all different parts of our neighborhood.  If he followed the right one it led you right to the back of our school, and we dubbed this area “the woods”.  Yes, we were very creative.  The woods were a source of a lot of trouble for the two of us.  These woods held many legends.  One was the story of a ghost boy who walked the woods with a blue backpack.  The story as it was told to us was that if anyone was to see this ghost it would be the last time anyone would ever see you again.  The story was told in school by some of the older kids and as far as we knew it was true.  One gorgeous morning I met Andrew up in the woods for our walk to school and we started on our way.  We hit the top of the hill that led down towards the path to our school and we spotted something coming towards us.  It was him, the boy with the blue backpack.  We were frozen in fear.  We couldn’t move forward and without even speaking we both turned around and started to make our way back home.  As we were walking we heard a voice.  Trying to ignore it we just kept walking until the voice spoke again.  “Hey!  You guys stop!”  And we did.  If I hadn’t had already stopped to pee, I would have right then and there.  We slowly turned around and were face to face with the boy with the blue backpack.   Neither of us spoke, we just stood and waited for this boy to do his ghostly thing that he does.  But he didn’t suck out our souls or transport us to some evil dimension.  He actually provided us with directions to a secret spot in the woods that was the home to a pile of soft mattresses and a rope swing.  Now the good Todd and Andrew would have just ignored this information and gone right to school however we were too damn curious to pass it up.  We decided to go looking for this swing.  As we took off, both of us turned back around to say thank you but he was gone.  Vanished into thin air.  To this day I still am not sure if this boy was real or not but after this day we were no longer scared of the boy in the blue backpack.  So after we gathered ourselves back up we headed off, following the boys directions.  Sure enough, there it was just like he said.   Not owning a watch, pager, beeper, cell phone or anything like that we had no idea what time it was.  As far as we were concerned time did not exist.  Up we went, one after another over and over and over again until we were so tired we could barely breathe.  As we sat there regaining our strength it hit us that as he put it “SHIT, we forgot about school!”  (that was the first time I heard that word and started to use it immediately afterwards.) We jumped up and ran as fast as we could and after what felt like hours we finally got to the schoolyard.  But the crazy thing is we were only about ten minutes late.   How could that be possible?  It should have been at least lunch time if not later.  Did we imagine the whole thing?  Impossible.  We were never ever able to explain this day and we were never able to find the rope swing ever again either.  We looked everywhere for years after and it was like it never existed.  Maybe the legend of the ghost boy was true.  Well if he’s still roaming those woods and if any of you run into him tell him thank you and get those directions again.

I had a paper route when I was maybe nine or ten and Andrew would come with me every now and then to help out.  The quicker I finished the quicker we could play wiffle ball or pick on Billy the younger kid who wanted to be cool like us.  I would have been Billy if that kid from across the street never moved.  Poor Billy.  One day after delivering the papers we were passing by “the creek” (yes another creative name for one of our other hangouts), and we found two car stereo’s sitting on the ground.  Being the ages that we were we had no use for a car stereo so we decided that smashing them into tiny little pieces was the best thing we could possibly do at this moment.  He took one and I took the other and we threw them as high in the air as we could only to watch them fall down below into the creek, smashing on the rocks that were scattered in the water.  Once we were satisfied with our destruction we headed to my house.  As we got closer to my house we noticed that there were a couple police cars in front of my house.   Andrew decided to not stick around and headed home while I quietly walked through the front door.  We both thought that maybe someone had seen what we were doing and called our parents.  How were we supposed to know that breaking things wasn’t a serious crime?  Well once I got into the house my mom grabbed me and told me that someone had broken into my dad’s old Nova and stole his car stereo.  It was then that I realized that the radios that we found did happen to look pretty familiar.  “Ummmmm… I know where they are,” I said.  This caught the attention of the police officers as they quickly came over to see what else I knew.  Scared of what my parents might do to me, I just stated the current state of fact.  “The radios are down the street by the creek.”  What I didn’t expect was for the officer to take me in his police car to show him.  He drove down to where I directed him and we both got out.  He asked where the radios were and the conversation from this point when kind of like this.

Cop – “Where were the radios son?”

Me – “Well…they were over here, but then they kind of got umm…moved.”

Cop – “Moved?”

Me – “Yes, they got moved down there.” (pointing towards the watery grave that they now resided.)

Cop – “I see.  And how did they get “moved” down there?”

Me – “Umm…me and my friend sort of threw them there.  Over and over again.”

Cop – “So they weren’t broken when you found them?”

Me – “Are you going to tell my dad?”

Cop – “Tell him what?  That his radios were perfectly safe until his own son smashed them to pieces?  No, I will not tell him that.”

And with that, he made me pick them out of the water and brought me back home to my parents where my dad mourned the loss of his water soaked smashed up stereo.  I don’t remember if I ever told him that I killed his stereo so dad, if you’re reading this, yup, it was me.  I’m sorry. 

The more I write about what Andrew and I went through as kids the more I remember.  Andrew is the reason I started to play baseball.  He’s also the one who showed me that I could still watch the playboy channel even though we didn’t get the station on cable.  Squiggly lines will not stop a 9 year old from being able to make out the occasional boob!  We learned the proper way to spit together.  We teamed up to dominate any Nintendo game put in front of us.  We got caught playing with matches.  Anything there was to do as a kid we managed to do.  The one thing I regret is the way our friendship ended.  Freshman year of high school my parents decided to move us to MN.  The night before we were leaving there was a going away party at my grandmother’s house where all our friends and family came by to see us off.  A bunch of us were upstairs playing a board game and up came Andrew.  I looked up at him and he looked at me and told me he just wanted to come by and say good bye.  The only response I could muster was “Ok.  I’ll see you later.”  And with that he left.  Maybe I didn’t believe I was really going or something but if I could take that moment back I would.  After we moved we sent a few letters back and forth but our friendship didn’t last much longer.  When I moved back to CT we reconnected but it wasn’t the same.  I will never forget the times we shared as kids.  I look at my kids now and even though they have friends that they hang out with from time to time it’s not even close to what I had.  Reliving our friendship is like watching Stand By Me but without a dead body by the train tracks.   It’s my own personal movie that I can rewatch over and over again whenever I want.  I can only hope that some of you have that same luxury of your own.

Smells Like Teen Spirit

As I sit here drinking the over priced beer that I bought yesterday just trying to relax as best I can I turn to Pandora for some musical entertainment.  I tried listening to some of the newer stuff out there but it all sounds so generic and overdone so I change it up and throw on the good old 90's alternative station.  Now I'm not the biggest Nirvana fan out there but there is something about them that just makes me feel good.  Most likely its the memories of the 90's that come with there music.  In my eyes the music that came out of that decade was some of the best out there.  Now as you read this keep in mind I'm four beers deep so bear with me (almost threw an LOL in there like this was some 2AM drunk text but quickly deleted it. LOL).  The music that is coming out of my speakers right now brings back memories that I hope to never forget. As the songs play, each one reminds me of something so why not share those with you.

Summertime from Sublime.  When the livin's easy.  No, it wasn't easy but when I was riding around with my cousins heading to some party or to yet another concert, this song made life feel lighter.  Sublime's album was the perfect backdrop to hanging out in a back yard drinking and just having a good time without caring about anything but doing just that, having fun. 

All Over You - Live.  Ok now its not the song that does it for me but the band.  I started listening to Live my senior year of high school.  Me and my good friend Tad would listen to them like it was nobody's business.  He loved All Over You while I swore by Lightning Crashes (I always liked the slower tracks for some reason).  After my senior year I moved back home to CT and Live was coming to perform at the Meadows Music Theater a couple months after.  I had to see them so me and my cousins got lawn seats and after sitting through PJ Harvey (awesome live by the way), Live came on.  I remember how cold it was out on the lawn and how everyone who smoked seemed to not be bothered by the cold.  So what did this naive 17 year old do?  Thats right, I asked someone for a cigarette.  The first of many stupid cigarettes all due to the fact that I thought they would make me feel warmer.  I survived four years of blistering cold in MN without one but couldn't make it through a somewhat chilly night on a lawn listening to good music.  I guess its ok to blame a rock band right?

Better Man - Pearl Jam.  Ah, Pearl Jam.  I used to hate Pearl Jam.  Not for any reason in particular, just because I wanted to.  I think it was the same with Dave Matthews.  Everyone and there mothers like Pearl Jam so being someone who wanted to be different I chose to hate them.  Then I saw them live.  It also happened to be after one of the toughest breakups I've ever gone through.  A breakup and a Pearl Jam ticket had me listening to Black like it was the only song that existed.  I went to the concert not expecting to come out of it with a new favorite band.  They were amazing from start to finish.  The only thing that I hated was the concert was shut down due to Pearl Jam asking the crowd to come closer so they could dance.  They never did play Black.  My ex was in the crowd and for some reason I felt like if she heard that song and knew I was there it would have made her feel bad for what had happened between us.  When you're young and  in love your mind tends to put crazy thoughts like that in your head.  It was probably a good thing that it wasn't played. 

Glycerine - Bush.  See Better Man - Pearl Jam.  I spent a lot of this time frame with the same girl and these songs bring back those great memories of her.  Its part of what made this time so great for me.  Bush as a band however is one of those that is historically way underated.  Does no one remember that almost every song on Sixteen Stone was a top 10 hit in alternative radio?  Bush held the title of king of alternative radio for a good three or four years but for some reason they seem to get forgotten.  Maybe its because Gwen Stefani stept in and did what most wives do and stole Gavin's manhood.  Just joking ladies, you don't really do that!(yes you really do). 

Pandora commercial.  No, I do not need to learn a new language thank you.  Bring back the music.

Everclear - Santa Monica.  Everclear may not be everone's favorite or even a band that people listened to regularly, but I did.  Santa Monica made me think California.  California made me think skateboarding and so I decided why not give skating a try.  I was terrible at it.  I could do nothing more than ride the stupid board but while I was doing it I would have Everclear playing.  I got to meet the lead singer Art on more than one occasion and had some pretty in depth conversations with him.  The first time I met him was during Cracker's set at one of the Radio 104 fests at Riverside (now Six Flags).  He was surpisingly very open about life and I found that comforting coming from a rock star.  He shared with me stories about what led him to give up drinking and drugs and how life is much more beautiful with a clear mind and unclouded memories.  I don't know why he chose to talk to me about this but it made listening to his music that much more enjoyable and meaningful.

Disarm - Smashing Pumpkins.  One of two bands that I have always wanted to see but never have.  Disarm is still to this day one of my favorite songs to listen to.  "Disarm you with a smile".  Five words that really can make a world of difference.  One more smashing pumpkins story for you.  Senior year of high school a friend of mine lent me a bunch of alternative cd's to listen to as an attempt to recruit me away from the east coast rap I would listen to.  One of those CD's was Siamese Dream from Smashing Pumpkins.  I loved every second of this album.  Loved it so much that I scratched it by accident rendering it unlistenable.  My poor mother had to buy the album and replace the one that I broke.  So if you're out there Paul Heneman, my apologies for ruining your Pumpkins disc but a vey big thank you for introducing them to me.

As I do this I'm realizing I could do this all night long but that would just be crazy.  For those out there my age do yourself a favor and turn back the clock a bit.  Give Lady Gaga a rest and turn on some Alice in Chains or Hole.  Rihanna will come on again in twenty minutes so pop on some No Doubt and just jump around for a little while.  Think back to those $20 concerts that would last all day where you'd see all the bands that played on the top nine at nine.  A time where bands like Verve Pipe and The Wallflowers could actual make it.  You could pull up a top 200 of the 90's and see over 100 different artists.  Do that now and you'd see the same names over and over again.  Sorry but I'd rather listen to RHCP (Red Hot Chili Peppers for the older crowd) over LMFAO any day.  And as I type, Black from Pearl Jam comes on and yes, I did put it on repeat.

Summer of '99

The summer of '99 was a summer filled with just about everything.  Heartbreak, new found love, my first apartment, drinking, a little more drinking, and one of the most memorable weeks of my life, the week of Woodstock '99. 

I was living with my father at the time in a large one bedroom apartment on the Berlin Turnpike.  For the past few summers before my brother, Kevin, would fly in from MN and stay for the entire summer so it tended to get a little cramped but not so bad that it was unbearable.  When they announced that Woodstock would be happening again I jumped at the chance to go and was planning on buying a ticket the day they went on sale.  A couple weeks before my big purchase I had spoken to my sister, Michelle (also from MN) and she managed to talk my dad into buying her a plane ticket and a ticket to the show.  The day they became available, I purchased the two tickets and started planning.  Michelle, myself, my two cousins Duane and James, and our friend Greg were all going to pack up and go on this exciting adventure together.

Michelle flew in about a week before we were going to go to Woodstock.  I mean she couldn't be rude and just not hang out with pops now could she.  That week was an adventure in itself.  I was working two part time jobs at the time, Filene's during the day and the Ramada Inn in Hartford at night.  Now remember one thing before I go any further, I was 21, naive (or stupid whatever you want to call it) and way to trusting.  One night while working at the hotel, I was approached by a man who said he was a friend of my family and started rattling off various names of people that he would have no way of knowing unless he truly was a friend of the family.  This man had a problem.  He just got a flat tire and had no money until the following day when the banks were opened and he could cash his check, which he showed me as proof.  He needed $100 to fix his tire.  Stupidly, I decided to help the man and I gave him $100 after he promised he would call me in the morning to come pick him up and bring him to a bank.  He left and I immediately realized that I just pretty much donated $100 to some random stranger.  I was conned.  Dejected, I went home and told my sister the story.  Being such a great sister, she made sure I felt even dumber and idiotic after hearing the story.  The next morning, we were awoken by an unexpected sound.  The sound of the phone ringing.  I sat up in bed half asleep still but I had a little problem, both my arms were dead asleep.  "Michelle, get the phone!  I CAN'T FEEL MY ARMS!!!" I yelled to her.  She ran and got the phone and brought it to me.  It was the man from the night before.  I had no idea what time it was but it was way earlier than I would normally wake up.  The voice on the other end of the phone wanted me to pick him up downtown and bring me to a bank so he could pay me back my $100.  I couldn't believe it.  I didn't believe it either.  I thought I was in for another con so I decided it would be best to bring my country girl sister in her weird MN clothes with me.  Believe it or not, we picked the man up, brought him to a bank where he cashed his check and handed me my $100 back.  Even though it all worked out in the end, I never wanted to see or hear from this guy ever again.  I dropped him off at a bus stop, said sayonara and jetted off as fast as I could.  Never heard from him again.  (funny thing is he needed money for a tire but didn't even have a car.  I just realized that right now.  Man I was dumb.)

The day were to leave for the concert was here.  The actual show started Friday and was to go through Sunday but they were allowing people to come that Thursday to get set up and enjoy some live local bands who would be playing throughout the day.  We were going to leave after lunch time that Thursday.  I had to work in the morning so it was up to my sister to get everything ready for the trip.  Around 10:00 am I received a page (yes, I said a page.  Remember pagers?  Mine was a clear blue one.  Thought I was so cool to have it.).  It was my sister paging me from my dad's house.  I figured maybe she just wanted to make sure she had everything we were going to need for the trip.  I picked up the phone and dialed. 

Michelle - (somewhat frantic) "Todd, you have to come home!"
Me - "Umm...why?"
Michelle - "Kevin fell through the ceiling."
Me - "What do you mean he fell through the ceiling?"
Michelle - "He was going in the attic to get the tent and all of sudden he fell through."
Me - "Is he OK?  Where is he now?"
Michelle - "He's stuck in the ceiling.  His feet are dangling down!"

Now at this point I couldn't help picturing my poor brother trapped in a ceiling without laughing hysterically.  I had no choice but to leave work early to go and assess the situation before to make sure it wasn't something that would cause my father to lose his mind.  When I got home, they managed to get Kevin down from the attic but in the spot where he was you could see two holes that marked the spot where his legs were stuck.  We had managed to pack up and leave before my dad got home to see the damage but poor Kevin was left behind to explain what had happened.  On the way to Woodstock, we could only laugh and imagine my dad's face when he heard the story from Kevin. 

After a five hour drive, we had finally arrived in Rome, NY, which is where the concert was going to be held.  We parked my car in an enormous grass field and made what felt like an eternal hike with two huge full coolers to the front gate.  Once inside we realized we were in for what might be the greatest weekend of our lives.  There were, if I remember correctly, three or four different camping sections, all of which were starting to fill up rather quickly.  Our camping area was located right in the middle, closest to the entrance to the stage area.  The stage area consisted of two main stages on opposite ends of an airfield.  I believe the stages were a legit mile or two away from each other.  In between the two stages was an airport hangar which would be having raves every night.  (a rave for you older folks is a 90's version of a dance party but with weird drugs and lots of glow sticks.)  We found our camping spot and set up shop. We did a little exploring then came back to sit and relax for awhile, meet our neighbors, and just soak in the atmosphere.  Later that evening as we all sat we heard some music coming from one of the stages.  No one was supposed to play that night so we were all curious as to what it was.  The music was funky with a lot of bass.  After hearing a little bit of it, it started to sound familiar.  It sounded sort of like George Clinton.  No, it sounded exactly like George Clinton.  We got up and went to check it out.  Sure enough, George Clinton decided to put on a surprise show for his own birthday.  He must have played for three hours that night.  It was a great start to our weekend. 

The next morning we woke up excited to see how the day would unfold.  The amount of people that had arrived since the last time we were awake almost quadrupled the population of the concert venue.  By the time the gates were closed, nearly 250,000 people were temporary residents of Rome, NY.  You can't even begin to imagine what if feels like to be in close quarters with that many people unless you were there.  After a day of watching acts such as James Brown, Sheryl Crow and the Offspring, we were ready for the highlight of our night, Korn.  For Korn I wanted to get as close as I could so I set off towards the stage thinking that everyone else was following me.  The closer I got the more suffocating it became.  And then the fear set in when I realized that I was not being followed.  I was alone.  Korn entered the stage and started with one of their heaviest songs (Blind for any Korn fans out there).  It starts off slow like a ticking time bomb.  I had to get out of where I was.  I thought I was about to die.  As I'm frantically pushing my way through this sea of people the music is getting faster and faster.  The crowd is about to erupt within seconds.  I knew I didn't have much time left to get out.  Then it happened.  The song kicked into full gear and the place went insane.  Just as this happened I fell right into the middle of a mosh pit.  I hopped up as quick as I could ready to defend myself against the onslaught of people only to be bumped gently by something.  Confused, I turned around and saw that the mosh pit I fell into was one that was filled with kids who were no older than eleven or twelve.  I took a nice long sigh of relief then just started to laugh.  I hung out with those young kids for the entire set of Korn then made my way back to the tent covered in sweat and mud.  The rest of my group were already there waiting for me.  I'm not sure what kind of adventure they had but I knew it wasn't anything like mine that night.

Saturday's early lineup wasn't really our cup of tea so we spent most of the day just walking around and checking out the scene.  There was all kinds of different things happening.  There was a group of about twenty who at some point turned over garbage cans and just started drumming.  I actually think they drummed for a good ten hours straight.  At one point Frisbees were handed out by the hundreds.  Those Frisbees were instantly thrown up in the air by whoever was able to get one.  It was like being attacked by arrows.  Once the Frisbee war ended a toilet paper one began.  There was non stop entertainment.  One group that I wish we never encountered was the "mud" people.  Mud is in quotes because the mud people were not rolling around in just mud.  The mud they were rolling in was a result of a backed up septic tank.  These people thought it would be a good time to pick up the "mud" and throw it at random people.  After making it through that minefield we didn't dare venture near it again the rest of the weekend.  What we did see most of this weekend was breasts.  There were boobs everywhere.  It was like shirts weren't allowed on girls or something.  I suppose it was the whole Woodstock/Hippie carefree attitude that caused the ladies to show off for the world.  I had no problem with it one bit as it definitely improved the scenery in Rome, NY.

We managed to take in a little bit of Counting Crows, Alanis Morrisette and Kid Rock before settling in for what was to be the headline event, a trio of powerhouses, Limp Bizkit, Rage Against the Machine, and Metallica.  As expected, Limp Bizkit and Rage Against the Machine each played for about 45 minutes a piece during which the crowd of nearly a quarter of a million looked like an ocean of rough waves.  People jumping, body surfing, and moshing.  You couldn't sit down or else you would have gotten trampled.  One of the cool things to do for a woman during the performances was to flash their boobs to the crowd.  Again, I had no issue with this.  Well almost no issue with this.  It was about half way through Limp Bizkit when I hear my sister say "Duane, put me on your shoulders.  Todd don't look!!!"  Yup, you guessed it.  My sister had to be a follower.  I didn't get mad at her for it.  Just shook my head and enjoyed watching her laugh afterwards. 

The last day's music lineup was not too impressive so we decided we would start packing up our things and bring them to the car.  We planned on coming back to catch Red Hot Chili Peppers close out the show.  I thought it would be a good idea to go get the car by myself and move it closer so we didn't have to drag all our stuff as far as when we arrived.  Well instead of driving the car up to the road and move it like a regular person would, I decided I'd just drive straight through the grassy field to a spot much closer.  Not a smart idea.  I had bottomed out so many times along the way that a hole appeared in my oil pan under my car causing oil to constantly leak.  Besides this problem that we discovered, we also were not able to restart the car once I parked it.  James had his head close to the engine to see if you could hear anything while I continued to try and start the car.  I tried and tried and tried until BOOM!!!!  The engine battery cover blew right off the battery itself, nearly taking James' head with it.  We were screwed.  With no battery, a car that constantly leaked oil. barely any money left and a five hour drive ahead of us things were looking pretty grim.  They had buses that were running back and forth to down town but they stopped running early since the show was nearly over.  We had to somehow talk one of the bus drivers to bring us to the Walmart to get what we needed.  I don't know how she did it, but my sister managed to get one of the drivers to feel so bad for us that he made the trip just for us.  We got to the Walmart and bought what we came for...well that's a lie, first thing I did was run to the bathroom.  It was the first time all weekend that I was able to shit.  If you saw the bathroom situation at the concert you would have held it too.  Went went back to the car, replaced the battery, filled it with oil and started on our way.  Traffic was not moving so we decided to sneak in through the knocked down fence and watch the Chili Peppers.  This is when all hell broke loose.

It was part way through a rendition of "Light My Fire" when we noticed that off in the distance random bonfires were sprouting up throughout the crowd.  Then gradually those bonfires grew larger and larger until they were ten maybe even twenty feet high.  The fires were everywhere.  We decided this was a good time to leave.  As were were getting ready to leave a series of explosions went off right in the area of where the fires were happening.  Flames were touching the sky and a thick black smoke was rising from the airfield.  As we slowly made our way out of the madness, police cars were speeding past us.  There must have been 50 to 100 cars that passed us as we sat.  It wasn't until we got home when we saw what really happened.  People were so angry over all the price gouging that was going on during the concert that they decided to show their anger by starting an all out riot.  The riot lasted all through the night and nearly everything was either stolen or destroyed. 

Eventually, we made it out.  James, Duane, and Greg all fell asleep in the back while me and Michelle popped Vivarin for the length of our trip.  We had to stop every hour or so to refill the car with oil since it was still leaking from my off roading excursion earlier that day.  After about seven hours or so we finally made it safely back home.  The adventure of a lifetime was over. I always hoped they would have another Woodstock so we could relive this trip but they never did and most likely won't.  No matter though,  the memories of that trip and everything else that happened will never leave my mind. 

Something Smells Familiar

Pictures that have been taken in the past are always good reminders of those memories that we all cherish and keep close to our hearts.  Sometimes when we are bored we look back through our old photo albums and reminisce about vacations past, your wedding day, or pictures of your children when they were just little babies.  Pictures are great for this, but they arent the only thing that triggers memories.  You sense of smell will do just the same for you, sometimes with an even greater sense of rememberance.  Call them what you will, aromas, odors, or just a fragrance of some kind, we all have certain smells that link us to some deep memory, sometimes memories that we forget we even had.  The smell of the air near the beach, the smell of river you fish at, the aroma of your mothers cooking (Kraft Mac N Cheese and Pop Tarts...yummm..just kidding mother!), all these will bring you back to certain moments in life that will make you smile, cry, or just terrify you,  Speaking of terrified...

Every year in late august, always in the morning for me, the air takes on this certain smell.  Its the smell of the first day of school.  I can't explain how it smells, but I will tell you that it always gives me this nervous feeling in my gut.  It could be the collective odor of millions of school children all with that same nervous feeling.  Perhaps I'm the only weirdo who smells it.  Even now, when I'm walking my kids to school on that exciting first day, I still get the butterflies.  Maybe its because I'm nervous for them, but mostly I believe its just bringing up old memories of those days when I was their age.  Those wonderful memories of those dreadful first days. 

Red Door perfume.  That was the fragrance she was wearing.  I'll never forget it.  No, I'm not talking about when I lost my virginity or anything like that you sickos.  I'm referring to this girl who I met at a concert once.  I met her, but she never met me.  Well sort of....let me just tell the story and you'll see what I mean.  A group of us went to an all day concert at The Meadows in Hartford.  We were sitting on the lawn just enjoying the music when all of a sudden we noticed that this younger girl in the group sitting below us just collapsed.  Her friends were too far gone to know what to do and just started freaking out so we had to step in and do something.  I ran down and picked her up and just started running as fast as I could towards the first aid area.  When I first looked at her I thought how heavy could she be, she was tiny, but the weight I was carrying felt like I was carrying a dead body.  She was cold to the touch and I had no idea if she was breathing or not.  As we got closer to the medics she starting to gag and up came whatever she had in her which I was relieved to see since now I knew I wasn't just transporting a corpse.  The paramedics swooped in took her from me and drove her away on a cart.  I never knew her name or what happened to her, but I will never forget her smell.  When ever I happen to catch a whiff of Red Door as I pass through the fragrance area in a mall or something all I can wonder is what happened to that innocent little girl.  She had to have been ok.  I have to believe that.  I guess I'll never know.

Mud has its own fragrance that generally speaking is just the smell of mud, but not to me.  My grandparents in Canada had hundreds of acres of land (yes had.  long story, maybe some other time).  The land covered areas of woods and fields and was absolutely breath taking.  Believe it or not, the mud smell of this land was different than any other mud I ever new.  It was kind of gross actually.  Had a weird bitter sweetness to it.  Anyway, our family would always take rides through this land on four wheelers or on a tractor, whatever the occasion called for.  One week I went to visit my grandparents with my dad and girlfirend at the time.  It happened to be the same time when my cousin Mike and my aunt were up for a visit.  The weather wasnt the best but there was a day when my girlfriend, Mike and I all decided to go for a four wheel ride.  Only two could fit on the quad so we attached a small trailer for Mike to sit in.  Everything was going great until we got deeper in to the woods.  The mud was thick and hard to navigate through but I was doing the best I could.  But then we got stuck.  I figured I'd just give it all I got and gunned the throttle.  We went nowhere so I did it again.  Through the sound of the engine I could hear someone faintly calling my name.  It was Mike.  I turned around to see what he wanted to find him covered from head to toe in mud.  In my determined efforts to get us unstuck I failed to remember what mud does when wheels are spinning in it.  I wish I could say that I showed immediate remorse and jumped off to help poor Mike but no, I laughed my ass off instead.  When we got back to the house his mother, my dear matante, let him have it for ruining his new Whalers jacket (if it was a canadiens jacket the mud would have known better than to touch it!).  So Mike, consider this my apology.  Matante, it was my fault his jacket got ruined.  I would have said so then, but I was too busy laughing hysterically in the next room.

There was this one time when someone asked me to write something for them.  They wanted me to describe a cold winter breeze.  When I thought of what I wanted to write, I couldn't help but describe the beautiful aroma that breeze carries. Don't get me wrong, I hate the cold and I hate snow but this I do not hate.  Whenever this scent brushes past me the memories of Christmas come almost as quick as the chill from that cold wind.  I remember going outside  to scan the night sky for Rudolph's red nose on christmas eve at my grandmothers house because someone heard on the radio that Santa was flying over New Britain at any moment.  I remember waking up at some ungodly hour (I was always the first one up) to go and survey the presents under the tree on Christmas morning.  That is always a wonderful sight.  No lights on in the house but the ones on the tree.  Each little light acting as a spotlight for the boxed up surprises all neatly wrapped below them.  Even though I was tempted to sneak a peak at what was inside, for some reason I would always just sit and stare.  That morning has to be the best morning of the year for a child.  Hell, I'll admit it, its still the best morning of the year for me.  That day is quickly approaching and I'm willing to bet that I'm up before the kids. 

Now I know that each and everyone of you have memories locked away that are just waiting to be reopened by something.  Do yourself a favor though.  Make sure you stop and smell the roses.  You might find yourself lost in the good old days for a few moments.