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Cool Story Bread
Anonymous
39d9d54
?
No.8216
8218
Everybody has a story to tell, oftentimes unbelievable or unconfirmable. Weird things, awesome things, incredible things. Maybe it was an encounter with a majestic wild animal, or perhaps a hilarious set of circumstances that led to one of the most amazingly backward day.

ITT we tell those stories; the awe inspiring, the laghable and the wonderful, the ones we will never forget even if they only amount to 'that one time'.

>be me, 25 m
>working a seasonal job by the coast
>new to area, dont know anyone from Adam
>horribly anti-social, don't play well with others
>local bar does a jazz improv night
>played trumpet for ~10 years, but havent played for 4,...
>Fuck it there'll be booz
>bar has a stage, for hosting
>buncha dudes up on the stage, several drum kits with the stage lights glinting off 'em
>reminds me of 'the days' so I take a seat by the edge of the stage cuz theres already a dozen plus here
>pull out my trumpet Nickel-plated Jupiter Professional with a custom gold-plated, 3a(size), Megatone mouthpiece (shit was baller)
>spend a good hour, just listening to different jams, warming up in between
>go to play a couple times, get nervous, talk myself out of it
>still, the music is awesome, and if youve never, improv music is a special kind of magic
>night is winding down, some people start packing up some of their stuff
>never really examined anyone in detail, wouldnt have even known what was about to happen, still can't believe it TBH
>Guy in the back, clearly one of the first to arrive says "We havent heard from him yet"
>ohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuck
>"Play something"
<Uh,... uhhh,...
>"Pick a key and just play us something, just relax"
<Uhh,... well its a B-flat trumpet so what works for you
>Major or minor?
<Uhhh,... A-minor for Bb trumpet? I swear to god dont say it
>"When you're ready

>start in with a simple haunting-sort of casual noir-esque melody
>dude in the back picks right up with a very light guitar accent
>bass enters, then drums
>and thats about when you lose focus
>when you're given a solo like that, cuz thats what that was, you end up 'saying something' with the music
>oftentimes something you needed to say, and just as often, you didn't know you needed to

>you've already established to the group the sort of melody style
>hey know what to expect
>so you just say what it is you gotta say
>as you keep saying you build momentum, you express more
>probably one of my best solos
>wish I had a recording

>audience and band all clap
>people compliment, especially the other musicians
>firm but non aggressive clap comes down on my shoulder
>guy from the back had walked up, facing the same direction, leans in and says
>that was a really nice solo, kid I may be embellishing the 'kid', been a while

>two days later
>be talking to the bar owner, place is empty
>"So what did you think about the other night"
<It was awesome. I dont have alot of improv experience, I'm used to rehearsals and strict adherence to the page
>"Can you keep a secret"
<Uh, I think so, I dont know anyone to tell
>"You know who that guy who played background guitar for you?"
<He didn't introduce himself, no
>"You didn't recognize him?"
<Wasnt paying attention tbh
>"Don't tell anybody. He doesnt want to be noticed, he doesnt even like to talk to people, and he doesnt get to do this often. He just wants to come for the music
>If you come again, you play along too and dont say anything or you're banned for life, understand?"
>I nod
>"That was Eric Clapton.
>He lives about 40 miles from here, only comes out every so often cuz fans and tourists start showing up when he comes regularly."

Never saw the guy again to confirm, can't imagine the benefit to the bartender lying, but that was the time I may have jammed with Eric Clapton.
Business Dog
19ef261
?
No.8218
8219 8220
>>8216
You still playing?
---

(All of my stories are horrible nightmares, except for a couple perhaps not really worth mentioning.)
Anonymous
39d9d54
?
No.8219
8220 8221
medium-9.png
>>8218
Negative, I had to have all my upper teeth pulled a few years back. When I came back around to try, I found that without the teeth, I couldn't perform the embouchure(sp) necessary to hit the notes with anything more than 25% accuracy, and my tonality was that of a beginner. It sucks too, cuz I still know the full chromatic scale to 3 octaves, and can determine the fingerings to songs on the radio on first listen. The trumpet is now in possession of my best friend, a father of 4, who like me spent all of school and after playing and practicing. He still has his trumpet, but his was a school model. Now he has a baller trumpet from which to teach any/all of his children who want to, how to play. ^_^

I have another story like that, not gonna greentext it tho

So in my 20s, me and my bestie were avid paintballers who landed lifetime free passes at our local field. Every weekend, both days, for years.
In the process we got skilled to the degree that even intermediate equipment was unsatisfactory, and so we furnished ourselves with custom markers, assembled by an industry-notorious custom maker. Neither of our markers ever began as markers from a supplier, they began as blocks of metal at the shop and were and milled, assembled, tuned, vibrantly anodized. Mine cost 2k, which was the majority of 3 months of net income adusted after bills, obligations, food, gas, etc. There was an investment here, and it was worth every penny. Like, I cant describe the anodizing because you could dox me; my marker appears in numerous photo compilations from the timeframe.

In the process of playing to the degree we did (we drove to all sorts of events, tourneys, you name it) we made alot of friends/rivals (cuz just like in chess, you need proper opponents); among them, Steve and Deborah (dont call her that lol, her dad is abusive ex military). They're like 20 years older, have 3 kids, and OWN the paintball field. Great people.

So after playing for like 5 years straight, I stopped playing for 3, cuz money and priorities. But one day Im cleaning, and I come across my pass. Huh. So I go to current bestie (other one got married and moved away) and Im like "Hey, its been a while, you wanna head out there one more time?"
And hes like "Bet" (it was ~2008, so he totally said that)
So we ride out there, get all our gear out, and with us and the rest of the people, its 13 on 13.
Now, new bestie has only paintballed like a dozen times, hes kinda a newb. But the entire rest of the field was newbs. I was amatur level, wearing a sponsored jersey with my handle, "#", and team logos printed on the shoulders. Why numbers for a 5-man team you ask? Just what I asked! Its so journalists can refer to you more easily, and for ease of tournament bracketing. Okay, fine, whatever.

Anyway, Im here to murder. Even out of practice, in the first round I eliminated 11 of the 13, bestie getting the other 2.
Steve is reffing. Steve sighs, goes and gets HIS sponsored jersey (different team), his several thousand dollar marker, and gets his wife to ref
For the rest of the day he and I dueled while the other newbs had a blast. Great dude, great family.

Fast forward, I'm in my mid 30's havent played for 6-7 years, life and priorities have changed, whatever. Im going through some of my boxes from having moved a couple times, I come across my gorgeous marker. Instantly, just holding ot floods my mind with memories. I throw on my CO2 tank (O2 is for sissy markers with bad regulators) which of course is empty, and immediately start pretending to unload on my GF, followed by laughs and stories. I find myself saddened at the thought that this majestic piece, now 10 years 'obselete' (EVERYTHING is electric now ~_~) and yet STILL competitively state-of-the-art, was lying im a box.

Later that day, I drive up to the field, and Debi is manning the pro shop.
Hi, how are you, its great to see you, all the standard fare.
I place my marker, still with tank, and my top of the line (but way older design, the newer stuff is trash) mask on the counter. Debi looks down.
"You wanna play? Theyre out there right now but you can join up when they come back."
<No, I want you to have them.
"Are you trying to sell them?"
<No,... they are fine pieces of equimpent that I poured alot into over many years. Im not likely to play with any consistency again, and I'll be moving from the state soon and not likely to come back. I want it to stay here, where it can live and play freely with others of it's own kind. Like an animal rescue, or a wildlife habitat.
Debi stares at me, nods a couple times and only says: "Lets wait for Steve, he will want to hear this"

After a very emotional period of reminiscing and swapping stories and experiences (one of their kids had to stop playing and ref, lol), I left knowing that the marker gained value because I gave it away freely, and why. Just like the trumpet.

I am so not spell-checking that on my phone.
Anonymous
39d9d54
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No.8220
8226
medium-13.png
>>8219
A couple addendum/notes. None of the names are correct, and several of the details have been deliberately scrambled. I say that to emphasize that I was being considered for a pro team at one time, and any accurate details would make doxxing me a snap.

Do not dox yourself ITT PLEASE

The other addendum was to the day that Steve and I dueled while the newbs played. It basically became a team captain situation, where we directed the newbs to strategic positions, and then we would fight with eachother, while providing cover fire (we stopped ACTUALLY shooting at the newbs, we just encouraged them to not be poking out while OUR newbs were advancing. It was more than your average day of play, where a mismatched bunch pf 2s and 3s are working as partners and mini teams, everyone was on the same team that day. I can't imagine a better day to quit for good.

>>8218
>horrible nightmares
I had intended that this be a happy heartwarming thread tbh,...
Sometimes, the heartwarming story is in the overcoming of extra-ordinary adversity; I have lots of those. Surely you have some stories you look back on and smile?
Anonymous
39d9d54
?
No.8221
8222
>>8219
More addendums to the "Final day against Steve"
Part of what made it so cool for me AND Steve is he doesnt play often anymore cuz hes older. But he has heaps of experience, but sadly no one usually asks for input or advice.
Similar story for me, years of experience and strategy. But NORMALLY the team tactics amount tl lime I said, pairs and threes huddling amongst themselves, talking amongst themselves, and then going off and doing noob shit.
Not us. We had a team huddle before every field. We showed them how to properly hold the markers for consistency and accuracy. We taught them how to properly target opponents, how to cover moving lanes, how to occupy and utilize bunkers beyond "the thing stopping the 'bullets' from killing me", which bunkers are the most significant and how to utilize their specific attributes,... and most importantly,...
"Alright, I'm not telling anyone what to do. But what I plan to do is this,... and if you guys are with me, here are the key points to occupy, and how I will help you advance."

Alot of skill was passed on that day ^_^
Anonymous
39d9d54
?
No.8222
8223
>>8221
At the beginning of the day newbs were shouting nonsense like "theres a guy over there!" and uselessly pointing and NOT shooting, to simple commands like "Snake Hot On Me" (I'm taking fire from a specific bunker) and taking cover. Or instead of "Hey get that guy over there, I wanna go to that bunker there!" To "Cover the Dorito, I want the titties" (give me cover fire on a specific bunker, so I can move to the double-spool). And instead of turning and shooting a couple shots and then looking around for something else to shoot at, they respond "Copy" and start shooting the triangle bunker until homie has the titties in hand.

It was kinda like a private Master-Class, and the younger kids really liked an excuse to ironically shout "Titties" ^_^
Anonymous
39d9d54
?
No.8223
>>8222
The reason - beyond basic personal satisfaction AND team fun and excitement - was this enabled me and Steve to get creative. We would fall back, flank, and advance to provide support for whoever was calling for help, which led to their team calling for help. Players didnt get eliminated quickly, but everyone was actively involved, like a chess piece where every piece moves but none of the pieces get taken. Eventually what ended up happening is either Steve or I would get taken out (usually by newbs, cuz we were only in tourney mode on eachother) and then the remaining captain would fall back and direct their team to victory. We were all frens that day, and our bitches were all excited, bragging about cool stuff that happened.

One thing about this field is the staging/parking area. All around the perimeter of the lot were cable spool tables, waist high. Anyone can use em, but only 4 olayers can fit a full set of gear without scratching, knocking off, or upseting one or more of the others. Those tables are designed for smaller groups.

But next to the pro shop is a GIANT spool thats about 4.5' tall, and its about 12' in diameter. To use that table, you have to bring a high stool, and there are plenty of stools fro players who have brought them. That table is where the OGs sit, cuz we're all just friends who like shooting at eachother.

By the end of the day, none of the newbs were at the kiddie tables. ^_^
Business Dog
19ef261
?
No.8226
8227
famouswiseduck.jpg
>>8220
Well, I like the fact that you're getting me to think about genuine events that made me smile, because I don't really (want to) remember those anymore. Will keep reviving those jaded old RAM cells and see what comes out.
I can however align my life's past events and see how they helped me discover and accept Jesus Christ's cost/work-free invitation to sup with me and live in His Kingdom for eternity, which makes going through them all more than worthwhile. It doesn't make me "smile", but I am filled with unmatched appreciation and gladness at the free gift given to me, and the patience and grace extended to me.

It's always a bit "tragic" when impressive skills such as yours end up being left behind in a previous chapter of ones' life, but they can also get built upon and evolve in some way in the next chapter.
Does music and outdoors team fitness still matter to you, or are other things now challenging you in a constructive way?

Okay, maybe I've got 1 "heartwarming" story so far:
I'm a farm-dog, and own chickens - people tend to think that chickens are just stupid, and sometimes that's true, but there can be a "depth" to animals that one won't spot with casual or arrogant observation.

One of the farm chickens ended up getting bad cuts on her feet and legs for some reason, and instead of just going on as normal, or becoming sicker and sicker, she escaped the large area set apart for the chickens (this would not have caused the injury) and walked all the way to my bedroom window and started complaining loudly and persistently - calling me outside. When I went out to see what was going on, she walked up to me closely and just stood and complained in a distressed way.
I noticed the injury, gave her a warm waist-high bath in Betadine, lightly dressed the wound and put her in a large cage in my bedroom with warming light, food and water for a few days.
When she got better, she went back to the chicken-area and was quite happy.
A few months later, chicks had hatched and several hens were out with their chicks scratching in the dirt, pecking feed and doing the usual happy-chicken-stuff.
Every time I entered the chicken area, the mother hens led their chicks away or just ignored me, but bedroom-chicken always greeted me and called her chicks over to meet me, allow me to touch them, and then they'd start doing happy-chicken-stuff right next to my legs until I'd leave.
(Pic probably mostly unrelated.)

---
Why the reminder/urgency for not doxxing oneself?
Ninjas
39d9d54
?
No.8227
>>8226
>>8226
>I like the fact that you're getting me to think about genuine events that made me smile, because I don't really (want to) remember those anymore
This sentence was a journey
>music and outdoor team fitness
Music when it strikes me, been railing Bury the Light recently. And if by outdoor team fitness yiu mean "managing a 7 acre with cats and dogs and chickens (we're getting ducks and geese in the spring :3).
And yes, animal intelligence is vastly underrated. My cats comprehend simple phrases, and detect when the phrase is varied.
>inside chickens
Okay, people been sleeping on this for too long. I know you know, but inside chickens is in fact, a thing. Ffs, we eat what comes from their ass. Keep em happy! Let em inside!
Of course, when they were chicks I would take turns holding them and warming them with my hands and breath,... theres ways to get them to bond better. ^_^
>why the emphasis on not doxxing
Cuz it's my thread, and I would head off any casting of aspersions