Tour Guide - Vulcan Trail

Vulcan Trail is the best walking venue in Birmingham. Located under Vulcan Park, home of Birmingham’s cast iron God of forge and fire, it features some of the best free views of the city. All of downtown and much of the surrounding area is visible from vantages stretching the length trail. The path is paved and marked at each quarter mile, running a full mile in one direction. The trail can become crowded at times, especially in the early evening and on weekends when the weather is comfortable, but this can be avoided by going later in the evening or during midmorning hours before lunch. This is a dog-friendly trail, with plenty to keep the pooch occupied on the walk. Most bring leashes for their dogs but let their dogs wander if there aren’t many people around; only a few leave their leashes and manners at home. With the smell of Dreamland barbeque in the air and the occasional party at the Club or Vulcan Park’s reception center serenading the walker with soft music and loud laughter, you never entirely leave the city behind and the added ambiance in the midst of the natural surroundings only increases the uniqueness of this trail. Parking is located off Richard Arrington Jr. Boulevard about a mile south of Five Points in the shadow of Vulcan.

The Joys of Youth

I strolled around my house today, enjoying the searing 100+ degree heat that sent reams of sweat pouring down my back and face, waiting for my dog to go to the bathroom. This is a touchy subject as my dog at times can get irritable bowel syndrome, also known as the uncontrollable shits, and therefore needs to be pushed and prodded into potty breaks on a regular interval. As I yelled encouragement to her ("Sadie! Go potty! Right now! HURRY UP!") a late model sedan pulls into the alley next to my house with its bass thumping. A man jumps from the passenger seat and looks in my direction. Being accosted in my backyard is nothing new; sometimes it's nice to know I can step out the back door and be offered crack at reasonable prices without any need for troublesome transportation. However, this gentleman had no desire to sell me any recreational pharmaceuticals. With barely a glance, he walks around the car, pulls down his pants, and begins to urinate on my neighbor's fence. I had to admire the kid for his gutsy move. I've performed all manner of public drunken urination in my day but never directly and blatantly in front of a complete stranger like he was doing. Now came the quandry: as a responsible member of the community and homeowner, I should yell at the kid and threaten to call the police. It was the right thing to do. However, being able to identify with the intense need to relieve one's self wherever one can I stayed my hand for a moment as I thought this through. Finally, with the mosquitoes buzzing around my face and the sweat continuing to pour down my body, I called my dog to me and we went inside.

I mean, he wasn't peeing in my yard, right?

The State of the World

Consider if you will the state of the world around you. Feel the blast from the air conditioner as it creates a temperate atmosphere for you to enjoy. The sun drifts lazily in through half-opened blinds as if to remind you of the world outside. Behind you the constant hum of activity drifts in and out of awareness, washing over you in waves. You sit and stare at the monitor as if it holds some deep and hidden secret that you could puzzle through if given only a few more moments. Possibly a smile crosses your face as you gaze entranced at some feature displayed, be it text or image. Thoughts begin to coalesce; emotion courses through your veins as you realize the thrust of your scrutiny. These emotions ebb in mere moments, whether good or bad, and off you race again, oblivious to the world around you.

Aliens Are Among Us

A lot of people tend to look down on ufologists, calling us “conspiracy nuts” or “alarmists” or sometimes “Get away from me, mister!” but the time for name calling is over. For those of you out there who don’t believe the truth, I’m here to relate some personal experiences of mine that will change your mind. Aliens walk among us.

I had my first encounter about a year ago. My friend Pete and I were out tossing back some beers at this place called the Pit. Well, I guess to be factually accurate it was Zima, but Pete’s always seemed to have weird taste and at least he didn’t get wine coolers that time. Anyway, the Pit’s this, well, pit, out in the middle of nowhere where we like to go hang out because there’s no cops around. We got out there around 7:30PM on a Saturday in late November and drank until approximately 9:00. I remember the time because I checked my watch right when it started happening. It was then the aliens made their presence known.

I started getting all wobbly and had a hard time standing up. Pete was, too, because he kind of fell into me and we held each other up. I blacked out for a little bit but came to and felt like I was being dragged somewhere. I tried to talk but I think I got dragged into a wall because I blacked out again. Next thing I know, I’m laying face down on a table and something’s operating on me. I know this because of the light over my shoulder and I could feel a whole lot of tugging going on. Then I’m out again and wake up with Pete in the backseat of the car at approximately 6:00 AM the following day. I wake him up and after a quick conversation he confirms my suspicions: we were abducted by aliens!

I had a hard time staying seated on the way back in to town, not only because of the excitement but because it really hurt to sit down. After I dropped Pete off, I went home to reason this out. Both Pete and I had possibly been abducted and I had pain in an area infamous to ufologists worldwide. There was only one possible solution to this puzzle. I had been probed! I went to my doctor a little later in the morning, around 10:00 AM. As a nonbeliever, I didn’t expect him to have a complete turnaround but he did confirm that something had definitely probed me. I pressed him on it but he wouldn’t relent. I mean, what could have probed me if not aliens? Sheesh.

The next weekend, Pete and I went back out to the pit. I sat up all night but they didn’t come. Pete said we should drink but I didn’t want to miss anything this time. We went back out about a month later. Pete said that it’s possible they only come after people they’re pretty sure won’t remember so maybe we should try pretending to drink to trick them. We both had a beer and sure enough, they bought it! After we made that discovery, we started making regular trips out there. They even come when we bring other people! Last week, they abducted me, Pete, Theodore, Frankie, and Jonathan. So if you still doubt that aliens are walking among us, then meet us in the parking lot across from Male Obsession and see for yourself. This week we should get some hard evidence thanks to Pete, who suggested that we bring a video camera along and try to get some footage.

Every Second I Become More Irrelevant

According to a study out by a blog tracking site called Technorati, there is a new weblog started every second. You can check it out here if you're interested. I have to admit, the feelings that rushed through my body, the excitement of starting a blog and the hope that maybe this would create the opportunity for a paid writing gig came crashing down rather resoundingly after seeing this today. So I asked myself, does this now make my blog an exercise in irrelevance more than one of futility? I can only take heart in the knowledge that less than half of the blogs currently in existence are considered active (updates within the last three months) and only thirteen percent are updated weekly or more. If nothing else, I can always claim to have one of the most active blogs on the internet that no one reads. A quick search on Google turned up no awards of this nature anywhere within the reach of its metacrawling robots. I may have to create the award myself, then after careful consideration nominate this site as the first recipient. The award would be proudly be displayed on my site and I would brag to both of my friends about it. I bet my one friend would be so impressed that he'd totally unclog and flush so I wouldn't have to go to the bathroom in garbage bags anymore. Then maybe my other friend wouldn't be so dead, either, and I can dig her up from the backyard. We could play fetch for hours and go to the bathroom whenever we wanted without ever having to worry about whether we tied the bag tight enough that we didn't have to worry about it spilling all over the bathroom linoleum.

With that in mind and a stiff upper lip, I will blog on.

Childhood Memories - Three Man Slingshot

Growing up, few things were as exciting as implements of destruction purchased or created under the guise of recreation. The Crumps, who happened to be the nucleus of my childhood gang of miscreants, had possession of one such device: the three man slingshot.

Not many people I've spoken with have a clear understanding of the three man slingshot so before we continue I feel it's prudent to explain how it works. Imagine if you will an enormous rubber band. There are two handholds on either end of the band created with nylon grips. In the center, spanning the doubled band, was another nylon piece that formed a pocket large enough to hold a small water balloon or a fist-sized rock. Two people stand holding the grips on either side of the band while a third pulls back the center pocket, loads it, and releases. There are, of course, dozens of ways to increase velocity, accuracy, and collateral carnage but those tips are hard won and ours alone. No one likes to give up trade secrets.

One may ask how long a three man slingshot holds its charm. If all you're going to do is shoot it randomly, not very long. We developed several games and variations that increased the longevity of our slingshot well past the initial purchase price:

Water Balloon Catch: Three of us would stand in the road in front of the Crump's house and lob water balloons up the street. Three yards away, the rest of us would mill around waiting to catch them as they came screaming back to earth. This game was quite a bit of fun provided you didn't actually catch the balloon. One of us, Robert, tried to catch one like a football once, trapping it expertly on his chest and cupping his arms into it. Robert flipped in the air, landed flat on his back, and couldn't breath for at least a minute. The size of the bruise covering his chest only convinced us that this was one of the greatest games we ever invented.

Shoot the Neighbor's House: This game was also played with water balloons unless we ran out, whereupon we used rocks. The object of this game was to hit the kid down the street's house (he used to get grounded for trading his mom bad baseball cards if you're asking why, but that's a different story) with as much commotion and ruckus as possible, then run behind the Crump's house to hide until the heat was off. We could play this game for hours. In one of our finest sessions, we managed not only to dent one of their cars but also to break a window with a water balloon. When questioned about this later, our explanation that we were actually shooting rocks at the house and not water balloons (a blatant lie that time) only made matters worse as a broken water balloon leaves certain, soggy evidence in its wake.

Two Man - Three Man Slingshot: We generally played this game when there weren't enough of us to fully man the three man slingshot. This involved tying the slingshot to a tree or mailbox with one person holding the other side and the second man pulling and loading. The enjoyment from this game came from the fact that you could spin the ballast coming from the slingshot depending on how high the it was tied or what angle the other person holding it stood. This was especially useful for Slingshot Baseball.

Slingshot Baseball: Self explanatory. What seemed a brilliant idea turned out to be not so attractive once you got hit with a pitch.

As you can see, the possibilities were endless. However, one particular instance stands out in my mind as the sole reason for purchasing the three man slingshot, the reason we were destined to obtain and use it.

One year it snowed, which in Alabama is a fairly rare occurrence. The snow was wet and slushy, perfect for packing into ice balls for missiles. After shooting several, we decided to try a larger ice ball that another friend, Tyler, had been packing for several minutes. With Michael and I, the two biggest of our crew, holding point for the slingshot Patrick slowly pulled the slingshot back, inching back by digging his heels in and sliding his butt as he pulled on the center pocket. With great reverence, Tyler gave his ice ball to Patrick, who then proceeded to load it. The excitement built as we prepared to unleash our frozen terror on an unsuspecting neighborhood. Suddenly, Robert popped up in between Michael and I. Leaning his face down, he asked in a goofy voice, "Hu, hu; do ya think this'd hurt?" Time stood still. Robert smiled. So did Patrick. Then Patrick released the slingshot. Time slowly began to gain speed as the ice ball smashed Robert in the face. With a light arch Robert fell backwards into the snow. It's highly possible it broke his nose, although we couldn’t actually check for fear of having our slingshot confiscated by unsympathetic parents. Cuts, some fine and some deeper, spread away from the point of impact right between his eyes. He chased Patrick for a good ten minutes while we all laughed. For some reason, hearing Robert threaten to kill Patrick in his mushy post-strike voice and flail around blindly for him was almost as hilarious as the actual impact. It was truly a day which will live in infamy.

Having access to a three man slingshot made us all better people. I haven't seen one for sale for a very long time but if I do, I'm buying two because you never know when the need may arise for the mayhem and destruction that only a three man slingshot can provide.