Someone showed me a picture of the first cell phones and it made me laugh

because I remember the time I threw one over the side of the tank barge I was working on.

Actually I threw it onto a nearby tug but let the owner think I had deep-sixed it. He insisted on using it on deck while we were loading.

Some guys get it, some guys never will. There are a few out there that think their self-importance or social position makes them exempt from the laws of math and physics. They think they are above everything and that makes them outright dangerous.

I was lightering crude oil off of a ship back in the fairly early 90s when the owner of the crude, a Texan, sent his worthless son in law along with the oil as an expediter to make sure it got where it was supposed to be and when it was supposed to be there. He was an obnoxious little jerk and insisted on boarding us while we loaded to make sure we didn't steal any to take home with us or whatever.

Normally this isn't permitted but I guess J. Poopley Potts, the big shot Texan had gotten the OK for little Sonny Boy to be on board during cargo operations.

So Sonny Boy came aboard and the first thing I told him was that under no circumstances was he to use that damned cell phone on deck. Of course, five minutes later I caught him yakking away on the damned thing. I shut him down, took the phone and stuck it inside after telling him that if he did it again I would deep six the damned thing.

Of course he carried on and on about how important it was that he call everyone and their second cousin and keep them posted on the progress of the operation. When I told him to use it inside he said he wasn't getting a decent signal. 

I explained to him that having a life was more important than having a decent cell phone signal and told him to leave the damned thing alone.

Of course it wasn't five minutes later when I saw him on deck gabbing on the phone and simply took it from him and wandered over to the tug tied alongside us and threw it to the skipper. I also grabbed a piece of steel and threw it into the water where it made a loud, satisfying splash.

Sonny Boy came running over and stared into the water and stared for a minute, his lower lip quivering. He went back inside the house and a few minutes later came out and summoned me and told me I was wanted on the ship's phone.

Back then cell phones were in their infancy and were rather expensive to use. Although we had one on board, we had been instructed not to use it without a damned good reason. Sonny Boy had simply helped himself.

I answered the phone and it was none other than J. Poopley Potts himself. He wanted to know why I had thrown his cell phone over the side. I told him that I had taken it away from Sonny Boy because he had been using it on deck which was not only unsafe but outright illegal. I also explained that I had stashed it on the tug and he could have it back later.

"He was using it on deck with all the fumes blowing around?" asked Potts.

I told him that that was about it. I did point out that I was simply trying to save lives and precious cargo.

"Well, daammit!" snapped Potts. "If he does anything else that stupid then throw HIM over the side!"

The following morning I got a call from the office telling me that Potts had called them and he was impressed with the way I had taken care of both his cargo and his son in law. I was more than slightly surprised. I had expected to catch holy hell.

I had pictured Potts as one of those stereotyped rootin' tootin' Texans, in a white  Boss Hogg suit, enormous hat, spiffy Tony Lama boots and driving a powder blue Lincoln Continental with huge horns on the hood and little six-guns for door handles.

Several months later I was at a seminar and one of the office people called me over to meet someone. He introduced me to a guy I had seen get out of a modest five year old pickup. He was wearing western type work boots, Carhartt duck pants, a flannel shirt and topped off with the second grubbiest hat I had ever seen. I had owned one that was grubbier years ago.

It was J. Poopley Potts himself and he wanted to thank me for taking care of things. I was impressed!

He wanted to buy me a drink and I gratefully accepted. 

When I told him what I had expected him to look like he laughed delightedly. He told me he kept that kind of stuff in Texas for when he had business in Houston.

He was a really neat guy. We talked about bird and deer hunting and fly fishing.

It's kind of funny about some really rich people. He was a Walmart sneakers pickup truck kind of guy yet I could see him doing business with the real big shots. 

He was an interesting man.








To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY