#1. When me and Elvis were in the Army, we were both armor crewmen in the same tank crew. Elvis was the loader and I was the driver. The rest of the four-man crew was the gunner, Rosecki (from Minnesota) and Morris was the tank commander. We were doing a twelve day training session at Fort Knox where we were out in the field having mock battles in the tanks. We had been out there in the woods for five or six days and were ordered to stand-to at 5:30 AM. We had to be in up and running and in position at that time. Elvis usually slowed us down because he was such a heavy sleeper (he could sleep ANYWHERE, ANYTIME) and that morning he had been particularly hard to wake up and we were about to be late getting into our firing position on a hollowed out berm. We were all at our stations in the tank except for Elvis, who was outside the tank brushing his teeth. Morris was yelling at him to get in so he could spin the turret around and have it aligned out the berm before the company commander found us out of place. So, as Elvis was climbing in the loader's hatch, an impatient Morris took his turret control joystick and yanked it to spin the turret around, BUT without checking on Elvis's safety first. Ok. . .so the inside of a tank turret there are all these clockwork looking teeth that the turret spins on and there was no safety guards what-so-ever. Elvis foot was hanging down between the turret and those gear teeth as he moved down from the hatch just as Morris was spinning the turret! I heard him scream on our CVC helmets (like an intercom but in helmet-form) but being down in the driver's compartment I had no idea what was going on. I found out shortly there after that if Roseki hadn't used the gunner's turret control override, Elvis's leg below the knee would have been sheered off!! Fortunately, he was only a little stiff, but his leather boot was actually torn at the ankle.
#2 After getting out of the army, I went to college at the University of Memphis (Memphis State University back then. . .I heard it cost them two million dollars to change their name. . .signs and stationary??). I was living in Richardson Towers Dormitory which was two ten-story towers right next to each other with a communal cafeteria at the bottom, one tower was for men the other for women. My roommate was Jake and we lived on the 4th floor right next to the fire escape stairs. During my first semester there, Elvis showed up with only a small bag of clothing saying he thought he would enroll at Memphis State as well. He said he was interested in their art program and signed up for some sculpting classes. However, he said that the Army was screwing around with his college money so he didn't have the cash for both tuition AND a dorm room. A solution was found in me and Jake's room. The dorm room was separated by a massive, dinosaur-shaped desk/dresser combo that sat in the middle of the room. One side of it was Jake's and a mirrored reflection of it was my side. Connecting the two desks was a tunnel so you could put your chair/feet under the desk. . .Elvis borrowed a blanket, rolled up a towel for a pillow, and slept in that desk tunnel for about four or five weeks. It sounds crazy to let a third guy sleep in a two-person dorm room under the desk, but he was Elvis after all. So. . .He was going to classes and meeting new people (mainly girls) and I was shocked to find that he was actually a pretty good sculptor. The snag came when his instructors were asked to stop letting people come to classes who had not paid. Apparently, he did not have the money for tuition as well as housing. He stuck around a couple weeks after that, but got bored and began hanging out with a girl he met at the Memphis Academy of Art.
#3 Years (15?) later, both me and Elvis were living in a small coastal town in Maine. Over the weekend, Elvis was suppose to keep an eye on two sailboats that were moored out in the water. A hurricane was coming (it actually hit Nova Scotia) and was suppose to hit us around midnight. Everyone was pretty nervous about it, but that evening it was just windy and rainy. Elvis called me on the phone at 11:30pm and said "Hey, man. . .will you come help me check on those two boats? I might have to move them if the storm is too rough on them. And I can't move two boats by myself." I knew absolutely nothing about sail boats so I had some questions for Elvis:Question #1. Are they tied to a dock? "No, man. . .they are anchored about 30 feet off the shore, not too far."
Question #2 (a follow-up question) If we have to move them, how do we get out to them? "Oh, in kayaks, man. . .we kayak out to them."
Question #3 (a second follow-up question) Since I've never been in a kayak or a sail boat, will I actually be able to "help" in this type of situation? Elvis, sounding really confident said, "No problem, man, they're just boats. It's easy."
I was picturing myself being lashed by the wind and rain in a beat-up red kayak, being pushed out to sea, capsized, and found a week later with three lobsters in my chest cavity by the coast guard body retrieval guys. "Ok, sure." I answered. Long story, short. . .we went out and looked at the sailboats and they were fine so we drove home.
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