Shame - Fall 1992

Sorry it has been awhile since I've posted, life has gotten pretty busy these last two months.

Today I bring you a story of shame. Believe it or not, kids do stupid things often. This little story is one of those times.

An acquaintance wanted to show me his Camaro so four of us piled into his white 1977. It was a 350, automatic. And so we headed out towards the highway for some evening cruising.
This is not the exact car, but you get the idea

Now, like I said, we were just teenagers and being goofy. What I'm about to relate to you should never be reenacted because today some kook would shoot you.

As we were cruising out on Interstate 5 North towards Seattle, it was past dusk and well into night. The radio is going, we're talking cars and then one of my friends in the back seat found a survival knife at his feet.

Being the kids we were, of course we had to flash it at drivers - in jest of course. Of course someone in another vehicle doesn't hear the laughter or pick up on the goofiness that is going on in our car. The car we were passing had a woman in the car and she took a look at the knife and calmly dipped into her purse.

You've heard the witticism, "don't bring a knife to a gunfight?"

Well, I've lived this witticism and, yeah, don't bring a knife to a gunfight.

Silhouetted against the headlights of other cars on the road, the woman pulled what looked to me as a .38 revolver. What isn't in dispute is that it was a hand gun! As if we had been in tangles with guns before, we all ducked (like it would help) including the driver!
Kinda like this

As the driver ducked his arm kicked the shifter out of drive into neutral! So all his flooring of the throttle was doing nothing for a few seconds until I kicked it back into drive.

The woman had to be laughing now. We laughed - but it was a bunch of nervous laughter knowing that we just had a valuable lesson in driving etiquette. Namely, no need to get aggressive with other random drivers.

So, kids, this is a lesson of what not to do. 

I'm happy to be your mentor for driving scenarios and you can take this one to heart.

Seattle Summer, 1990, The Airport

Nothing good ever happens after 1 AM.

Well, that's a credo, if you can have a credo, I live by and is mostly true. At least by my measure. But this night, I recollect from age 17 in Renton, our clocks were probably pushed more to the two or three AM time line. So, I won't name whose idea this was, but we all agreed it had to be done so we are all culpable.

So we hit the road. At that time, driving from Renton to SeaTac Airport may as well have been Mexico. A few of us drove V8s, but regardless, from an "Iron Duke" 2.5L, to a minivan, to a V8 “Pony Car” lets say, gas, as always equaled money.

When you're 17, at least on Benson Hill, you stop playing hide and seek. Even at this age, the dawning of the Internet, better communications, and some boundaries that we could not see, didn't matter a hoot. We had CB radios that could reach out 5 miles, 50 miles 500 miles, 5000 miles. Communication between myself and my friends was not a problem in 1990.

So we decide the airport has to be played. I can't remember which people, how many cars, or the exact date but I do remember we paid for parking.

There's not much traffic after midnight even today. So, say, you were to hop in your car, drive to SeaTac Airport, park and walk inside and have free reign of the whole place you might make that drive today, just for fun!

Back then whether anyone harbored any ill will for my country or not, the airport was a safe place to be. Or so we felt.

Since 17-year-olds don't play hide and seek, we played "manhunt.”

Manhunt was “hide and seek". When you're 17 jacked up on energy, running with friends, and at a giant airport in Seattle, you go all out. Just a few memories are: Being exhausted, hysterical laughter, not being seen by any of the airport employees whether physically or on camera… and while running down one office space going into a giant board room and plucking an ice cold Coca-Cola out of the biggest iced container I've ever seen for pop. As far as I know taking a few cold Cokes from a meeting that was either done or soon to be happening was the only thing we did that could have been of consequence. Let’s call it 1:30AM.

We were just thirsty and it was there. I do recall being chased and chasing friends with so much space in between us, even with youthful speed, that when someone cut down another aisle, you were too far away to really tell whether it was the next one or the second from the next one.

I am serious: not even an "hey kids!” Nothing! For an hour, maybe two we took trams, we ran down concourses, went through offices (because we were either running away from or chasing someone), until we had all given up we're drinking down Coca-Cola's for free.

Well, they weren't exactly free. I think we may have paid 10 bucks each car to park there. I say we got the better end of the deal looking back. Hell, the parking may have even been free. In that case, karmically, I’m still ahead.

This is not a challenge to 17 year olds today, had there've been a TSA back then it's quite likely I’d have a minor Federal record. I've been caught speeding before, nobody is immune to the immutable laws of average. It's just that at that day, at that time and at that place, we owned it.

I'm pretty sure we raced our cars (and the "Speed Tax") all the way through the valley back to Benson Hill.

*Apologies for the typos, they're fixed. I imported this memory off a Commodore 64 and wanted the raw text at first. It is now... proper. - acs