Archive for July, 2013


Have you really thought about it? Sheriff Will Teasle or John J. Rambo…who’s the real villain?

Is Sheriff Will Teasle really a Villain?

Think about it for a minute.
Here’s a guy about in his mid-upper 50’s who has obviously built a successful career as sheriff in Hope, Washington – USA.  It’s a quiet little town & according to Sheriff Teasle it’s downright boring – and he gets paid to keep it that way.

Sheriff Teasle notices a man walking down the towns highway and decides to check it out.
Nothing wrong with that, he’s doing his job.  Teasle rolls up and greets the man with a “Good morning”, the man reluctantly nods back.  Teasle then asks the man if he’s visiting someone in town.  The man says “No”.

Now this is where some people say things start to brew.

Teasle then points out that the type of coat he was wearing (military issued) with an American flag sewn over the right chest pocket & looking the way he did (long hair, unshaven) was asking for trouble.  Sheriff Teasle didn’t say that HE had a problem with it, just that other people might.

If people in Hope, Washington have a problem with ANYBODY wearing an Army coat with an American flag sewn on it, that sounds to me like they have an issue with their country.  But hey, Sheriff Teasle is obviously aware that Hope, Washington has got their share of anti-Americans and he just wants to make sure that this stranger travels through safely.  He even offers to drive the man to the towns border.  What a nice guy.

The man told Sheriff Teasle that he was headed North, but then later told Teasle that he was headed for Portland, Oregon – which is South.

Is Sheriff Teasle suspicious?  He doesn’t seem to be.
He seems to be giving the guy the benefit of the doubt.

During the car ride, the stranger asks if there’s someplace where he could get something to eat.  Sheriff Teasle suggests a diner that’s approximately 30 miles up the highway.

The man then asks the sheriff if there was a law that prohibited him from getting something to eat in town…

Sheriff Teasle informs him that there was.

 

Shit goes South for Sheriff Teasle

When Teasle drops the man off at the towns border he offers the man a bit of advice.  He tells him that if he got a haircut and took a bath people wouldn’t hassle him so much.

That sounds like good advice.
I
n fact, Sheriff Teasle even asked another person earlier that morning if they were going to take a bath.

Before Sheriff Teasle drives away, he tells the man to have a nice day and hopes that the ride helped him out.

As Teasle is driving, he notices that the man has turned around and is heading back into town.  Teasle turns around, stops him and asks him for identification.  The man refuses, resists & gets himself arrested – as he should and is charged with vagrancy, resisting arrest and carrying a concealed weapon.

The man was later identified as John J. Rambo.

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When Rambo was arrested and brought into custody, Sheriff Teasle instructed Sgt. Art Galt to “clean up” Rambo because he smelled like an animal.

Needless to say, Sgt. Art Galt was less than friendly when dealing with Rambo because of Rambo’s lack of respect for the law.  He was uncooperative, aggressive and showed signs of paranoid schizophrenia.

After repeated warnings, Rambo remained being a regular “pain-in-the-ass”.

Rambo eventually escaped and eluded authorities and lead them into a dense part of the forest along the mountainside.

Sgt. Art Galt fell to his death from a helicopter when Rambo throughs a rock and hits the windshield, this caused the pilot to lose control, causing Galt to lose his balance.

MOVIE FACT: Sgt. Art Galt was the only fatality throughout the entire film.

The National Guard was called in to apprehend Rambo.  This outfit was lead by Lieutenant Clinton Morgan.  The National Guard chased Rambo in an abandoned mine.  After a brief gun battle, Lieutenant Clinton Morgan gave the order to use a rocket launcher against Rambo.  This caused the entrance way to the mine to collapse and Rambo was thought to have perished.

Sheriff Teasle then instructed Lieutenant Clinton Morgan to recover Rambo’s body.


The Shit We Pulled

Part of the “Shit Starting & Shenanigans” Collectionrailroad-54350_640

Being a 15-year-old male in “the Region” was an exciting time for me; being a policeman’s son, sometimes made it that much better.

I was daring, reckless, maybe a bit of an idiot.  Some may even say that I was a complete lunatic, but whatever it is you’re told, they’ll also tell you that they’ll never forget the shit we pulled – I made sure of that.

Jumping and Riding Trains

My two cousins (Mike & Bill) and I got this crazy idea about jumping and riding trains, we thought that it be a great way to get around – you know…free transportation!  The problem with that idea was that these trains didn’t go anywhere we wanted to go, so jumping and riding them was pretty much pointless and a waste of time, but we didn’t care; we jumped and rode them anyway.

PART ONE – COUSIN MIKE

One of the first incidents that almost went horribly wrong while jumping and riding trains was with my cousin Mike.  Mike and I talked and planned about jumping a train that carried brand new (tough built) cars from a nearby auto plant.  We thought that we could hop a train car that carried these new cars and then take the radios out of them.  I’m not sure what we planned to do with the radios once we got them…we didn’t plan that far ahead.

I mean, it’s not like we knew anyone that was in the market for stolen, factory built car radios…and besides, we never got that far anyway.

It was mid afternoon when Mike and I decided to head out towards the train depot.  Neither one of us have ever taken out a car radio before so we weren’t exactly sure what tools to bring – so we brought hammers.

Yes. Hammers.

Not the first tool of choice for most thieves.

These weren’t your typical claw hammers either, no, these were the odd looking mechanic hammers…the hammers with the ball point at the back instead of the usual claw.  Yeah, this was our tool of choice for such an operation, according to our calculations, we figured hammers would do just fine.

Oh, did I mention that this was our first time doing something like this?

…hammers are terrible tools to use when trying to steal a car radio. 
James Timothy Peters

mechanic-hammer-24230_640Our tool supply came from our grandfather, Grandpa Schreier (Mike’s mother and my mother were sisters and Grandpa Schreier was the father).  Grandpa Schreier had an ample supply of tools.  Masonry tools, carpentry tools, drafting tools, levels, ropes, chains, hooks and a single car garage filled to the rafters with wood.  He had a room in the basement/workshop that was totally dedicated to doors and an old bomb cellar dedicated to ladders.

When I asked my uncle why Grandpa had all that wood in the garage, the response was “In case the house burns down he’d be able to build another one.”

The Door Room: A room that is dedicated to just doors. It is filled with interior & exterior doors; closet & bedroom doors; French doors, Colonial style doors, &c.  Whatever door you may need…Grandpa Schreier just might have it.

The Ladder Room: An old bomb cellar that Grandpa Schreier built under his front porch, surrounded by brick 12″ thick (minus the entryway).  It may not have been able to take a direct hit or withstand the radiation from a nuclear blast, but you sure felt like it could when you stood in it.  After the bomb scare in the 1960’s, the bomb cellar eventually became the new storage place for all 30 of his extension ladders.

There was an opening in the chain-link fence of the train yard that was just big enough for us to squeeze through.  We brought along a pillow case that we took from our grandmothers linen closet.  We carried our hammers in them on the way to the train depot and we were going to use them to carry our car radios on the way back.

Everything was coming together.

As we crept through the hole in the fence and through the high brush and tall weeds, we moved slowly and made sure we weren’t spotted.

Now that I think about it, Mike was wearing all white.  A white tank-top; white shorts & boat shoes.  The perfect outfit for a stealthy operation such as this.

Luckily, a train carrying these automobiles was just on its way out of the train yard.  It was going so slow you could walk next to it and still keep up.  It was easy to hop on…very, VERY easy to jump and ride this train…almost too easy.

We quickly climbed on board and hid until the train made the turn at the bend in the gully.  We stayed hidden and made sure that none of the “yard guys” saw us.  As soon as we made that turn in the bend we went to work.

I instantly jumped up and ran next to the car that Mike was looking at.

“This is how you do it,” I said to Mike as I slammed a hammer against the car door window and smashed it.

“What are you talking about?” Mike said back. “That’s the back door.”

Wow.
He was right.

“Alrighty then,” I answered back.
So, as casual as I could make it, I went over and smashed the front door window.

We looked at each other.  He looked at me as if I were crazy; reached over and opened the door by the handle.

There was no need to smash the windows – the doors were unlocked.

Oh well.

I jumped in the car and went to town.  I smashed the shit out of that dashboard with that hammer trying to get at that radio.  I got it down to the metal…damn, all I needed was a Phillips screwdriver.  If I had that, I would have gotten that radio out a lot faster.

Oh yeah, that’s right…I got it out – with an ugly looking hammer.
And Mike got his out of the car he was in with his.

It was time to go.
We stuffed those two radios in the pillow case and when I was about to hit another car I heard Mike say something that changed everything.

“Jimmy. We have a problem…look!” Mike yelled as he pointed outside.
Mike was standing where we climbed on.  I walked up to where he was standing and looked out.
“The train picked up speed!”

Oh my God.  It was flying.
At the time, I would have said we were going 50 mph easy, but maybe now that I think about it, it was going about 25-30 mph – tops.  That may not seem fast, but try saying that while hanging on the side of a train.

We didn’t know what to do.  Things started to speed up.  We’re like “Okay, okay…be calm.”  Then we’d look out the train again and saw a sign that read GARY, as in Gary, Indiana.  We needed to get off and get off fast.

We got our thoughts together and decided to get rid of the evidence.  We’ll toss the hammers and the pillow case full of radios off the train and then if things go right, we’ll come back and pick them up.
Good idea.

We went to the other side of the train and looked out.  There was just another set of tracks and a huge field.  I tossed the hammers first.  I tried to toss them gently and tried to remember where I tossed them, but it didn’t matter.  I tried to toss them over the other side of the other set of tracks but I missed.  Those hammers hit those tracks so hard they bounced right underneath the train.  So much for those.

Mike tossed the pillow case of radios off the train and when they hit the ground, the whole pillowcase exploded.  Those two radios flew into pieces.

So much for our BIG score.

I thought Mike was going to bounce underneath the train just like the hammers.

I thought Mike was going to bounce underneath the train just like the hammers.

We had to get off this train because we’re headed for Gary, Indiana… and that doesn’t mean it’s going to stop in Gary either. With our luck, we’d probably end up in Ohio somewhere if we didn’t do what we did next.

Mike thought quickly and came up with the idea of hanging on the side of the train and try to run with it – while still holding on to the train.  When he thought the time was right, he would let go and just gradually slow down from running on his own.

At the time, it sounded like it’d work…
but it didn’t.

Mike took about three or four HUGE running steps and started somersaulting head-over-heels right next to the train.  His boat shoes flew off in opposite directions.  He had to have flipped six or seven times before veering off away from the train.

I had to have been at least 40-50 yards away before Mike came to a complete stop.  He stopped in a patch of sticker bushes just to make matters worse.

“MIKE!” I yelled out from the train to see if he was all right.  I saw him pick his head up and his arm signalling me he was okay.

I hung from the train like he did and decided that this was NOT for me.  I climbed back in the train and decided to just run and jump off.  That’s more my style.

I landed; rolled a little bit; jumped to my feet and ran over to see if Mike was okay.

Guess what?
He was a bit bloody, but he was okay.

PART TWO – COUSIN BILL

To be continued.


I will never ask the question: “How in the HELL can you run yourself over?”

If you’re guessing where this is going – you’re correct…
I almost ran myself over.

I nearly ran myself over!

I know what you’re thinking, “How can you run yourself over?”

It’s a little tricky, but it can be done!

I understand how it happened, I just can’t imagine what would have happened had my van actually ran me over.  If it wasn’t for my “cat like” reflexes and my keen “sense of aware“, I might have gone to the hospital.

I know, I know… whatever.

CLICK HERE

CLICK HERE

But if you’re interested in reading on HOW & WHY it happened, then by all means – please, continue.

Early one morning…

I was opening Lauers Pub in Calumet City, IL and decided to park directly in front of the tavern.  When I came to a complete stop, I turned off the ignition before placing the gear in park.  Quite simply – I forgot.  The van was off, but it was still in drive.

This is what it looked like before I had it repaired.

This is what it looked like before I had it repaired.

I know what you’re thinking, but before you decide that I must be FULL OF SHIT, let me just tell you that my van was once a stolen vehicle.  And in order for them to steal the van, they had to pop its ignition.

So now, that safety feature that disables any vehicle from starting if it is NOT in park…yeah, that feature has been disconnected in my vehicle and will now start in ANY gear (even reverse).

Needless to say, I jump out of the van and continued on with my day not realizing that I had not put the van in park.  So it sat IN GEAR for half a day.

When it was time to go, I dragged ass back to the van and used a screwdriver to enable the starter/ignition.  I crawled under the van and used the same screwdriver to jump the starter.  This is when everything went wrong.

When the van started it instantly took off.  If it wasn’t for my “cat-like” reflexes, this day may have ended on a more serious note.  Luckily, with my self-taught ninja skills I managed to roll out of the way of the out-of-control van.  Rolling from underneath a moving van while against a 6 inch curb was a bit tricky, but again…because of my athletic ability, I managed to avoid running myself over.

I sprang to my feet and started running after my van down the street.  Fortunately, it turned towards the curb and jumped it.  When the van hit the curb it slow down considerably making it possible for me to open the passenger side door and jump in.

The van was now heading towards a fire hydrant and I still wasn’t able to stop the van – just steer it.  I quickly turned the steering wheel to the left to get back on the street – missing the hydrant by inches.

When the van rolled down from the sidewalk onto the street, I jumped over to the drivers seat and was able to take control.PerfectlyNormal2a

I slammed on the brakes and took a minute or two to gather my thoughts.

Did that just happen?

I got my shit together and turned the van around.
While I was doing this, I noticed an old lady standing on her porch looking at me shaking her head.

You’re welcome, lady.
You’re welcome for the entertainment.

WANT TO READ PART II? CLICK HERE!