Tag: Salty Old Guy

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Retired Guy Post Number 2

While I was out-of-town, the fall edition of the biannual, official, Illinois retired fire guy magazine (pro tip- not its real name) came in the mail.  That being said, I’m taking this opportunity to share what I wrote back then here with you today.  Like I said when I started doing the regular column for the magazine; A.) I was (still am) thrilled to be asked to submit something and B.) going to share them here after a new article gets published.

So, here goes…

I recently had to travel back to the frozen tundra of northern Illinois.  My Local, DGPFFA #3234, had our Recognition Dinner.  We do this event every year to honor retirees from the previous year, and since I qualified, I came back for the festivities.  Since I’m now on a fixed income, I’d typically drive but due to time constraints, this time I flew.

For the trip home I chose casual attire, which included my union logo’d jacket.  I’m proud of my Union; Local 3234, the AFFI, and the IAFF and I don’t mind representing when I’m out in public.  

Brief side-track…

A few years ago, maybe 2013 or 14, I was helping the fellas collect for MDA.  I was positioned on one of the busiest intersections in town; west bound Butterfield Road at Finley Road.  At one point as I was strolling among the cars stopped at the light, I saw a woman, sitting in the front passenger seat, reach in to her purse.  Of course I stopped at her window.  An older woman along with her husband (I assume) driving a fairly recent model, full-size, Cadillac.  Big money, right?  I leaned over as she rolled down her window and as soon as the window opened the hubby leaned over and asked what we were collecting for.  I politely told him we were collecting for MDA, “you know, Jerry’s kids.”  Even though Jerry Lewis no longer did the telethon I still used that line, especially with folks my age or older.  As the wife deposited a dollar in change (I wish I was making that part up) the husband said, and I quote, “Oh, good.  I thought this was some union thing” Before they pulled away I said “Oh don’t worry sir, it is a union thing, thanks!” and laughed to myself as they drove off.

Back to the matter at hand.

So, while sitting at the gate at O’Hare, waiting for the return trip to North Carolina, a gentleman came over and sat down a couple seats away from me.  He looked at my jacket and asked if I was a firefighter.  I told him I was, that I was actually a recently retired firefighter.  Then he said, with complete sincerity “Thank you for your service.”  I thanked him for his kind words, but assured him the pleasure was all mine.  I meant it too.  I loved being “on-the-job” as much as anything I’ve done and all the good times that came along with it too.  But when someone from the general public drops a “TYFYS” on me, I get a little twitchy.  Don’t get me wrong, I like a compliment as well as the next person.  Still, something about it just doesn’t feel right.  I mean, after all, we’re just doing what we get paid to do, right?  And I may be wrong, but I think most of us got into this business for many things other than accolades.

So, my retired brethren and sisteren, (that may not be a word by the way) I’m looking for a little help here.  Do I just need to get over this or is there a better way to handle unsolicited yet genuine thanks for doing something I loved doing?  Any suggestions are welcome. And, uh, TYFYS…

There you have it.  I actually liked the first one better than this one, but I guess they can’t all be Pulitzer worthy…

That still holds true btw, I still don’t know how to respond when somebody tosses out a sincere “TYFYS” to me.  I mean, on occasion another fire guy will hand one out, but it’s totally different, kind of snarky when given to one another, so it’s easy to laugh off.  Oh well, I guess I just continue to smile and say “It was my pleasure” because, truly, it was.

One last thing before I head off to my next errand.  I’m not sure if I’ll get anything out between now and Election Day (caps mine) and I just want to take a few seconds to remind you of the importance.  I don’t care what your political beliefs are, (ok, that’s a lie, I do, but it’s still your right to vote.  Even when you’re voting for the wrong person…) to me, the single most American thing you can do is get. out. and. vote.  So please, get up off your couch and go do it.  This midterm is a very important election.  They all are, but this one more than most.  So instead of my usual sign off, I think I’ll leave you with this instead…

Vote.

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Roadside Markers

One of the things I miss most about being at the firehouse is the steady stream of material for this humble, little blog.  I mean, with minimal effort I was provided with multiple posts; whether it was the misadventures of new guys, unusual calls, or efforts on behalf of the union.  Mostly goofy new guys, but still.  On occasion I’ll get a text message from one of the guys, either from DG or one of the other places I wrote about here.  For example, I got a copy of a text exchange the other day wherein I learned our former new guy Mike still has his “you’re so pretty” moments.  I literally lol’d three or four different times as I kept reading and rereading the text.  Btw, I love you Mike, don’t ever change.  And congrats on the little one!

Another example is a phone conversation I had yesterday with a friend of mine that was recently promoted to Battalion Chief at his FD.  Today is his first shift and he joked that he’d probably mark the day by burning down a historic building in his town.  I, of course, asked him to wait until his second shift to destroy a city block, since I would then be in Illinois and able to harass him in person while also gaining first-hand information for a future blog post.  Of course, I really hope he doesn’t burn down a city block (mostly) but I’m not even lying when I say it would give me ample material to write.

And so I don’t get accused of burying the lede there, yes, I’m heading back to Illinois on Wednesday.  My dance card is mostly open, although Thursday afternoon/evening and Saturday are pretty booked.  If you’ve got availability and feel like chatting up a retiree, hit me up and we’ll see if we can make something happen.  Also, I’m looking for a little info on a phenomenon that seems to be a regular thing down here but not something I really recall seeing back home.

Now, I’ll grant you that vehicles sometimes break down along the interstate.  But I don’t remember them staying there for every long.  I don’t know if that’s due to people getting them towed home or to the zealousness of the ISP at keeping the highways clearish, but either way the sense of urgency to remove a vehicle from the side of the interstate down here is not remotely the same.  Another thing, and this is more what I’m wondering about, I notice people down here will stick something out one of the windows of the abandoned vehicle.  Sometimes a towel, rag, or t-shirt, but more often a plastic shopping bag.  I’ve been told that is done to alert the coppers the vehicle is broken down and not, in fact, abandoned.  Don’t ask, cause I don’t know.  I mean, I don’t know what one has to do with the other, but that’s what I’ve been told.  Just to kind of frost this cake, I noticed a tractor-trailer sitting on the side of the highway on my way up to Greensboro late last week.  When I returned home, the tractor was gone, but the trailer was still parked on the side of the road.  I think there were a couple of people by it still, looking at something on the back of the load.  Building materials, btw.  You know, 2×4’s etc..

You’ll never guess what I saw on the back of the load this morning on my way back up to Greensboro…  Because yes, of course, the trailer was still sitting there unattended.  Go on, guess.  I’ll wait…

Did you guess a plastic shopping bag?

YOU WIN!!!

***Disclaimer- there is no prize for correct guesses other than your very own smug satisfaction for correctly peering into the mindset of people down here via my very own twisted little perception of said people.***

Ok, I just heard from the vet, Lilly is doing great and will be ready to be picked up in a couple of hours.  I dropped her off pre-dawn today to get her spayed and microchipped.  I should probably wrap this up and move on to my next group of errands before I go get her and bring her home.

Keep your eyes open for stuff sticking out of windows of any broken down vehicles and report back, aight?

Peace

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The Return of Fables From the Firehouse

I make no excuses for the way my brain works (or doesn’t, depending on your perspective) and this is a fine example of the maelstrom in my head bouncing from thought to thought to thought…

I was listening to a playlist the other morning, and a song came up that always takes me back to when the Oldest One was about six or seven years old.  The song “I Know What Boys Like” by The Waitresses has always made me chuckle and I still remember the first time I heard her singing along to the chorus.  The mixed emotions of her carrying the tune pretty faithfully (Hey!  Maybe she’ll grow up to be a singer and make millions!) blending against my precious little daughter singing “I know what boys like, I know what guys want.”

Insert wide-eyed emoji >here<

That got me thinking about other things from “back in the day” and how things have changed, for the better, around the firehouse.  No, not by my leaving, smartass, I’m talking about the difference in how we protected ourselves then versus now.

*Salt Alert*  When I started in the fire service, the soot on your gear was viewed as almost a badge of honor.  The nastier it looked, the more you had seen/done/accomplished.  And it was the same way to some extent with air packs (SCBA’s) in that we never wore them at, for example, car fires.  Why would we need one for a car fire, we’re outside for crying out loud.  And there was no small amount of new guy shaming to try to impress upon them just how much machismo we had because of these beliefs and how they needed to be “just as manly” as we were.

I vividly (well, as vividly as my memory will allow) recall a garage fire from late summer or early fall of 2002.  I know it was the summer of 2002 because we had a “new guy” with us and I checked with him to see when he started.  The call came in late in the evening; a garage on fire about two blocks from the firehouse.  Vin and I on the ambulance, John, Andy and Zig on the engine.  We got there and sure enough, the garage was on fire.  It hadn’t gotten through the roof or the overhead door yet, but I think it had taken out a window before we got there and was blowing pretty good.  Not too much, mind you , but what you would call a nice little fire.  If it’s not your stuff that’s burning.  Andy got the water supply squared away, John checked on the hazards, and Vin and I took the handline, and Zig, to the garage to put out the fire.  As they got the line and themselves ready to go in at the side door, I walked around to the back to see what all we had.  I found a second, smaller overhead door on the back wall and tried it to see if it was locked.  It wasn’t, and since I figured the line was on the verge of going in, I opened it to lift the smoke for Vin and Zig.  I stuck my head in and could see the fire towards the front of the garage but didn’t see those two inside yet.  I came around to the side and saw them kneeling at the door, Zig trying to get his mask right and Vinnie berating him for not being ready to go.  Berating may be too strong a word, but he was definitely giving him shit for it.  I, of course, joined right in.  Because, new guy, you know?  I don’t remember the exact words but it was something to the effect of “you don’t even need your mask, it’s only a garage fire and the smoke lifted when I opened the door, Nancy.”  Or maybe Sally.  I don’t remember which, but I’m pretty sure I used a woman’s name when I yelled at him for not being in yet.  To his credit, Zig held his ground and went “on air” before he went inside.  I wanted to make sure and put that in there, cause I know his Mom reads this from time-to-time.  Despite our “best efforts” your oldest made sure he was protected.  We made quick work of the fire, quicker than I realized, because as we were walking back up the driveway toward the fire engine we were met by the guys from the ladder truck bemoaning the fact that we put the fire out before they got there.  That’s always the goal btw, for engine guys at least, so we were pretty pleased with ourselves.  Still, looking back, it was pretty dumb on our part to go into a fire without the safety of the air packs on our backs.  That was kind of the culture back then though.  You’d come out of a fire, blow the accumulated crap out of your nose, and if the fire was out, light up a cigarette, because why not?

Fortunately, times change.  And I have to tip my hat to the DGFD and the progressive way they got back-up gear for everyone on the department along with extractors so we could wash our gear when we got back from a fire instead of wearing that shit for weeks after.  I’m not sure, but I think we were one of the first departments in our area to have those.  And I have to believe they made a difference.  Without getting all scientific on you, studies have found that a number of different bad things (medical term) leach into our skin through the gear that protects us and the sooner you get those bad things (medical term) off the gear and off your skin, the better off you’ll be.  I know a lot of places are now carrying softcloth wipes to clean your skin as soon as you get back to the engine, to further reduce the risk of down-the-road cancer.  Whatever it takes.  I’m all in favor of these guys making the workplace safer for themselves and their loved ones.  Without going too far off on a tangent, I think about things like this when I hear someone talk about how much “better” it was before, well, fill in the blank, you know?  The reality is, we’re almost always better off now.

As I said, almost.  This photo just came in courtesy of Dan T. showing a new guy and his attempt at chopping an onion.  And maybe his finger.  Also, note the onion skin still in place on said onion

Sigh.  New guys.  At least they’re entertaining.

 

Peace.