January 5, 2010:
Quote: "I cannot tell how the truth may be; I say the tale as 'twas told to me." -Scott 'Lay of the Last Minstrel'
Actual Quote from Tonight: "You actually played football on a broken tibia?"
[Honestly, this blog/journal entry was supposed to be the quiet uneventful one.]
I woke up and kind of lounged around the homefront. Checked some e-mail, looked at some notes for the script, and picked up some work for Friday. I watched the Star Trek special features disc and had some lunch with my dad. It was carrot soup and very good, especially with the turkey sandwich on german bread. A nice hearty meal, which is my favorite type of food. I then headed out for work and picked up some drinks along the way, perrier and orange juice, so I can have something other than the vending machine stuff.
Once I got to work, the day went as usual. Cable casting, organizing, and setting up for the City Council Meeting for that night, which happens twice a month. We had a daughter of one of our bosses come down to observe what we do as part of a project she needed for her High School project. No problem, and helped to make a cut into the daily routine. The Council meeting came and went, with almost no hitch. The only annoyance came at at the end, where a citizen, Barry, who is known for being quick to question and attack the city, stated that our cable station had been down for over a week. This is not true, as the station had some technical difficulties on a Thursday, but was up and ready by Tuesday. A small matter, but a shot at our competance.
I got to the council chambers to help bring all the equipment down. The only thing I was able to get done was wrap a cable before a different citizen came by to ask me a question.
"Hi, my name is Sam," he said.
"Hi, I'm Nathan," I replied, "What can I help you with?"
"Nothing, really," he said, "I just wanted to let you guys know that what that last guy, Barry, said was totally inaccurate. You guys do a great job, and the station had barely went down before it was up again."
"Oh, thanks, sir," I said, "We appreciate that. What was your name again?"
"Sam Darling," he replied.
We talked for a bit about what our station covers and other things before I had to head down to help close up shop for the night. I did so, and then, through sheer fluke decided to go to a bar with my co-workers Mike and Karmin. (These two are very awesome people, by the way). We ended up at a bar called Maggie's Pub. The Pub was very empty when we got there. The place had a cool English pub atmosphere, and a nice selection of Hefeweizens (which I like, but I'm sure there's some of you in the audience will mock me for liking). We got a round of Hefs, and I got a delicious Shepherd's Pie, and we started talking.
Topics of Conversation @ Maggie's Pub: The Doors, Blue Moon, New Years Eve, Al Green, Mexico, Nuclear families VS Big families, feeling music, land ownership, etc.
At one point, the beer had been drunk, and the food had been eaten. We were just sitting back to settle, when a man came by and said, "Excuse me, but the gentleman at the bar would like you to know that he's gonna tell Norwalk that you guys are drinking here."
The man at the bar was Sam Darling.
Sam came over and talked to us a little, mostly the conversation was made up of making fun of Barry, which was appreciated. This was the first time Karmin and Mike had met him, and we had a good laugh. He then headed back to the bar, and we drank a round of water to take the edge off the beers we had drank. We slowly noticed that the Pub had filled up to maxed out proportions, and felt it was time to go. As we walked out, the line to get in reached around the Pub, and directly in front of the exit was a roped off area for smoking.
One of the men inside the smoking area was Sam Darling.
He waved us over, and we joined him in what we thought would be a goodbye conversation that would last the length of a cigarette.
We didn't end up leaving until almost 2 hours later. For you see, the Ballad of Sam Darling hadn't begun until he unsuccessfully tossed aside his first cigarette, which got caught in the folds of his jeans. He didn't notice until he smelled something burning, looked down, and saw a cigarette-sized, glowing orange hole eating its way through his pant leg.
And that was only the beginning, folks.
(Let's break up this blog format with a little rhyme/verse, yes?)
His name was Sam Darling,
And his stories were startling,
Of a darker city we did not know.
And right thick in the middle,
To deal with every hurdle and riddle,
Was Sam to describe us the show.
Have you already heard this tale?
Of laws and betrayal?
And a lawyer who had too much fun?
But before we could think
He was thrown in the clink
In a cell with scary Tex Watson.
For 8 years he sat in jail
And he proved that tale
When he showed us his parole card.
He was once in High School
With a coach most cruel
His leg slipped and he fell too hard.
With pain and a prayer
He became most valuable player
Even though his tibia had been broken.
The chronology would scatter
Really, it didn't matter
We just enjoyed whatever was spoken.
He went on Oprah's show
They all wanted to know
About the time he lassoed a pony.
He wanted to keep the horse
But he lost that of course
To a little girl he claims was a phony.
Sam's stories were grand
Never with a heavy hand
Every tale shined up like gold.
Though some things that night
Don't seem quite right
I'm just telling you what I was told.