"The whole world is...."

"The whole world is about three drinks behind." Humphrey Bogart

A bunch of us went out to a high class restaurant for dinner Saturday night. This place had real tablecloths, napkins that weren't made from paper, and a 3 piece jazz band playing on a small stage. Johnny, Diane, and Brian had eaten there the last time they'd been in Perris so a couple of nights earlier we'd headed off down Interstate 215 while they tried to remember what the name was, where it was, and what it looked like. I had no doubt we were on a fools errand but after 15 minutes of following the confused and uncertain directions given by Johnny McNally we found the place and got a phone number so we could make reservations for Saturday night.

We booked a reservation for 9 of us, and on our best behavior, clad in our best bib and tucker, off we went. We were given a prime spot next to the huge fireplace. The meal was superb, the service was stellar, the ambiance was high class. We arrived drunk of course, so the best behavior didn't last long but we'd tried. Our waitresses name was Loma, who wasn't phased in the slightest by anything we did, including my repeatedly hitting on her all evening. Every time she came near a bunch of people would start singing Copa Cabana by Barry Manilow but substituting her name instead: "Her name was Loma, she was a showgirl....."

I'd been threatening to get the band to play it all night long and as we prepared to leave Diane threw down the gauntlet and dared me to follow up my words with action.

The guys in the band said they didn't know any modern stuff, but after I waved a twenty dollar bill around and hummed a few bars they started to pick it up. Which explains how I wound up dancing on the bar in a five star restaurant with our long suffering waitress, Loma.

Sunday. Our last day of what had ceased to be a camp, and had become a camp out.

When I stuck my head out the motel room door that morning it looked encouraging, and I thought we might get some jumps in. By the time we got to the airport the clouds had thickened up again, but we were still in good spirits when Doug led us out to the field to go through the dive again. He thanked us for our patience, pointed to the sky, shrugged, and then it was stand by to stand by......

I grabbed my laptop, ordered breakfast, and installed myself in a booth in the Bomb Shelter Bar and Grill. Which is where I remained for the next 7 1/2 hours, getting up only to fetch more coffee, food from the pick up window, or use the bathroom. We weren't called on all day long.

Finally, at 4 o'clock, Doug called us all to the creeper pad for one last time. I noticed he didn't say bring jumpsuits or gear, he just called us to the pad. Our release time was 5, which meant that even if the sky was clear, which it wasn't, we'd barely be able to squeeze in a jump. We were done. The record attempt that never was, was over. Doug said some heartfelt words, thanked us for our perseverance, and congratulated us on our improvement since the start of the camp.

When he was done Brian stood up, said a few words to Doug on our Behalf, and presented him with an event T-shirt that we had all signed.

We all got refunds for the jumps we didn't make, but we all would have rather been going home poorer, with more entries in our logbooks.

There was just one thing left to say, a question that needed to be asked, so egged on by Diane I mentally kissed away all hope of ever getting invited to one of Doug's events again and stuck up my hand. "Doug, have there been any beer fines levied today?" He shook his head no. "Well then Mr. Forth, I seem to recall you telling us back at the start of the camp that if we got to the end of a day and you hadn't fined anybody, that you would buy beer for everybody!" He gave me a withering look as other people in the crowd started
to chime in as well.

"I haven't released you yet!" he shouted back at me over the growing noise.

Refusing to give any ground and knowing that the crowd was on my side I shouted back "Two days ago we didn't jump, you still fined me and I paid it!"

"You got on the wrong plane! You deserved it"

Truth is, Doug was in the right, I did deserve that fine, I made a boneheaded mistake and knew going in that if I did anything stupid, I would owe Beer. And it was completely unreasonable to ask him to cough up beer for
us on a day we never even climbed into a plane.

I was about to let it drop when, with a huge grin on his face, Dan BC stepped away from the organizers over to our side, stuck up his hand, and said "Hey, I think the guy's got a point! He bought beer when we didn't
jump! I'm on his side!" Dan BC had MY back! The crowd roared in laughter, and Doug, knowing there was only one way out of this, looked at the ground, shook his head, and started digging cash out of his pocket.

I couldn't believe I got away with it the first time. But Twice?!

On his way out Dan BC shook my hand saying "Your children, your children's children, and your children's children's children, will be front float on every single skydive they make for their entire lives." There isn't anybody on that camp that will ever forget me.

I took up a collection from everybody and together with the $60 I got from Doug set off for Winco to fetch beer and munchies. Beer is cheap down here, so we wound up with an entire shopping cart load.

And that was that. A little anticlimactic, a lot of travelling and sitting around to have an excuse to drink way too much beer.

It was worth it.

Until next time.......
Crazy Larry