"The world moves in a circle, to be sure. Now, I am not a Buddhist, but I do believe what comes around goes around. If that qualifies for "karma", so be it. The thing is, I have also noticed that when it comes around there seems to be a little more energy on it than when it left. Where does the increase in speed come from? I do not know. But I've seen it enough in my own life to respect it. Vent bad stuff into the world, bad stuff comes back to you...just a bit harder than you sent it. That's my motto.
Ted Nugent pushed in a direction before me that sent the energy around the mysterious galactic "sphere" in Orlando during the SHOT Show there in 2007. The energy returned to Ted (and I, for that matter) on April 19, 2008 this very year in Roswell, New Mexico this time (around noon, if you're doing the math Nostradamus-style.., and don't forget the time changes, you slide-rule wielding astrophysicists). Ironically, the setting was another Starbuck's. (Einstein just bumped his head on the inside of his coffin...did you hear that?). I was in town to work with some local law enforcement folks for a couple weeks. While accompanying a local policeman to a hardware store in Roswell for some supplies I spied a flier announcing that Ted Nugent was going to speak at some fundraiser in the near future in Roswell. After consulting both the flier and my watch I divined that he would be in Roswell to speak the very next day. I recall my remark to my colleague while we were still in the hardware store, "Say, when we're done here...remind me to tell you my "Ted Nugent Story".
Now, those of you that know me, and probably many of you who don't by now know that I consider a Starbuck's- any Starbuck's, to function as an unofficial embassy for me. That said, it is terribly difficult for me to simply pass one up. I believe at least 2 hours had passed since my last cup of coffee at the time, so I threw the "red star cluster", as it were, and diverted my host to the nearest Starbuck's on Main Street post haste. This, of course, was in order that I might both fulfill my wish to enhance my caffeination level as well as the potential to buy my friend (who was an "espresso newby") a drink which would induce sweat, sudden heart palpitations, and put him at great risk of unduly trusting a fart in uniform. In record time all of these prophecies were fulfilled...with the curious inclusion of yet one more...that being, the "Ted factor". Beads of sweat were just forming on the forehead of my new friend as I wrapped up the story I have already related in Part One to you all to him. I happily stepped from the cool AC of the Starbuck's into the hot desert air with my partner picking his steps carefully behind me in the way that only one who has newly acquired a hyper active colon can relate to and what did I spy to my right as I scanned for threats and eye candy?
A monster truck...slowly departing the Starbuck's pick-up window...driven by none other than Ted Nugent!!!
"Hey, Ted!", I called, as the truck pulled away. In response, my call was met by the curious melded sound of my gastrically challenged partner shuffling nearby and the chirping of big truck tires. Aha!!! I had him. The truck backed up a few feet and there hung Ted from the window ledge of the driver's side like a recently expended jack-in-the box. Some Ted-flunky proudly sat in the passenger seat and looked on.
"Hey, fellas. Good to see you law-types around. I've got your back while I'm in town", he said and later repeated several times.
"Golly, Mr. Nugent it is so great to see you,", said my friend, (or something like that).
Today, instead of sporting two weeks of beard growth, I was wearing 8 months of beard hair and replied from behind it....
"Hey, Ted...you don't remember me, do you? I spoke to you at the Starbuck's in Orlando at SHOT in '07. You were telling me how you trained Navy SEALs."
And with that, his mouth went off like it was a race.
"Oh, yeah. I train SEALS all the time."
"I deployed with SEALs to Fallujah and showed them how I could shoot terrorists over 2,000 yards away with a .408 Cheytac (because that's what they use, of course)."
"I actually killed some badguys there....so, you know. I got your back here."
And on and on...until.
"Hey, Ted. You really don't remember me, do you? You don't remember my business card? You know you're full of s^%&, right?" Embarrassed--said his face. And with that we received a pause, a tip of the hat, a "good to see you law-types", a "gotta go", and the chirp of big tires. And he was "out". Now, I don't know about how you all feel. But in my book he still hasn't made this right. Probably not capable. But if someone out there figured out the math for this karmic equation, please PM me and inform me when I'll be running into ol' Ted again. Apparently, some folks are doomed to repeat the mistakes they've made.
Frogman"
