Friday, March 13, 2009

How it all began!

The year was 1995. Bill Clinton was President, Forrest Gump won the Oscar for Best Picture, and O.J. Simpson was acquitted of murder. 

I was 13 at the time and, just like many other nights, I was over at Jonny D's house.  We used to hang out there all the time.  Sleeping/eating/drinking in the trailer, and pretty much taking over the house.  I never knew why his parents had tolerated it so much, but I suppose that's why they are great people.

There was a man.  Quite an odd man. A man by the name of Patrick. He was friends with Jonny D's father and had used to work with him at the IRS.  Many would say that this man was not right in the head.  Some would call him eccentric.  Other's would say he's bat-shit insane.  I happen to agree with the lattest.

We had quite an unusual relationship with Patrick.  He'd drop us off at movies and even pick us up in Downtown Seattle after 2 a.m. after the buses had stopped running. I never really knew why he did us all of these favors, but think it may be that older people have a harder time finding marijuana than young teenagers do.

A lot of us were hanging out in Jonny Durango's garage (aka The Dump), when I can recall the first instance.

Patrick yelled, as he opened the door, "Where's that Joe kid at??! I'm gonna give him a swirly!!"

It would continue on like this for the first few weeks after I had met him.  Whenever we had a run in, he was always fiending to give me a swirly.

"Joe, get over here and get a swirly!"

"Get back here, you're getting a swirly tonight!"

"Does anybody know where that Swirly Joe kid took off to??!"

He had even plotted kidnapping me.  His plan was to snatch me on my way home from school in a borrowed van.  If all worked out, I would have died strapped to a chair in his basement.  The party was themed "Bop-A-Swirly-Joe-With-A-Tazer-Twist."  Essentially, it would cost $20 (of which I would receive none), to hit me in the head with a plastic baseball bat, give me a swirly, and then shock the shit out of me with a tazer.  Luckily for me, it was just the insanity talking.

And  as the 2 words were combined, a life long nickname was born.  Just as peanut butter is to jelly, Bert is to Ernie, Swirly now had Joe. 

I still am referred as SwirlyJoe by many. Also, I don't think I can ever get rid of it.  All in all, that's why it's such a great nickname.  I didn't create it, it stuck, I got in tattooed on my leg, there is a pretty awesome rap about me, and most likely it will be engraved into my tombstone.





This would have been easier if I had the theme song from Doogie Howser M.D., playing.


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