The Way I See It

I wrote this yesterday while on my bicycle (quite a task...). It's about an old guy who I worked with at Langley, named J.C. Collins...when I talked to my office on Thursday night I heard him yell across the room,"I never got any poems!"...so...I wrote one about him...I'll have to explain about every single line though...

First of all, he's old. He's 58, and I kid him a lot. I moved to his office in 1995. One of the "strange" things I did in the last six weeks at Langley (between Texas and Korea) was to take Tuesday night "two-step" dance lessons. His wife, Priscilla taught it and there was usually about four or more people from my office there (chicks!!!...never got to dance with the chicks) along with an assortment of old people. It was funny because J.C. would always be doing something when his wife wanted to do demonstrations, and she'd quite forcefully make him come over. One week I had to dance with J.C....and we were messing around the whole time. I kept winking at him from across the room, and, one time while everyone was dancing, he was sitting on a metal folding chair. Suddenly, we heard a "crash!!!" and over in the corner, he had slipped off his chair, onto his ass...it's the funniest thing that ever came from the classes.

Amanda K. (Kaufman) is the girl I used to supervise whom I liked quite a lot, and we were supposed to email over here, but I was very emotional when I got here and she got uncomfortable and said she didn't want to email anymore...which sucks because we were a lot of fun together...I had a big crush on her (the orange soda...hehehe)...

She and J.C. were fairly close, and sometimes when he didn't show up for work, she would give him a call, and leave a sweet wake-up call. L. T. Schmack (pronounced "el-tee") is Leautenant Schramek, my boss's boss, and I think J.C.'s. One day I answered a call for him and they bastardized his name, asking for Lt. Schmack...I thought it was funny, told a few people, and the name stuck. As with most all new Leautenants (sp?) he gets abused...better him than me.

J.C. has had a hip, a shoulder, and some other body parts replaced. I used to call him the "bionic man" on my emails from Turkey to him. When he got his hip replaced, he was given a week off from work to recover. One day I said,"Wait, why is Mr. C at home?" and my boss said,"His hip was replaced"....so I said,"But he doesn't need his hip to type on the computer!! Get his ass in here!!!"...I kidded him about that when he came back.

He's been known to fall asleep at work, at his desk, quite often, but he was so old and sweet, we all just laughed...I used to blow in his ear as I walked by to wake him up.

He's also the Historian for our 480th intelligence group at Langley. I always told him..."J.C...you know if they want you to be the historian, then you must have been around a pretty long time"... Daryl is Daryl Collins, a skinny,retired black Master Sergeant, who is also a civillian who works in the building. We started refering to him as J.C.'s brother because of the last names, of course...(J.C. is a short, white, balding, fat guy...I'm so nice)

And, last, since they always made fun of my "three first names", J.C. used to call me "michael w. paul"...all three names, all the time...("w" has three syllables).

I used to tell people I was nuts...my boss was, so I was too (if you heard the way we talked, I'm sure you'd agree). We had a very crazy office....just one example...we had what we called "mandatory fun" where we would schedule a time that everyone would get together for 15 seconds and jump up and down and act like lunatics (it's quite a site...military...hmmm)...maybe I'll tell you more later if you like...

Well, take it or leave it, here's what I wrote on my bicycle yesterday

^
<<< J.C. Collins, This One's For You >>>

This one is for you Mr. Collins...
Yeah you! did I stutter or what?
I've written about everything under the sun,
So I thought I'd give J.C. a shot
I met J.C. on a warm summer day,
Back in August, nineteen-ninety-five
Back then he was moving along in the years,
Last I heard he was barely alive

He two-stepped his way on into my thoughts,
And with a wink, he showed me that he cared,
But when I blew a kiss...back at J.C.,
The force knocked him clean off of his chair,
Now Priscilla saw this, and she kept calm and cool,
But slowly, she raised up a brow,
Then she pointed and said in a quite forceful voice,
"James, you get your ass over here now!!!"

He's had more parts replaced than the Clinton cabinet,
If hair were people, well then he'd be Wyoming,
When the going gets tough...the tough get some sleep,
But come on, slumped over his chair, mouth open, foaming?

As Amanda K. gives him his wake-up call,
" Morning J.C...hun, it's time for work"
Half asleep he barks back, thinking it's L.T. Schmack,
and says "Leave me alone, f-ing jerk!"

Yeah, J.C. is the man with the twinkle in his eye,
Yeah the man who has the golden heart,
Or is that a titanium sewage pump?
I know J.C..."don't even start!"

When his hip got replaced, he couldn't type for a week,
With his shoulder, he could barely walk,
Now if only he had a vasectomy,
Then we wouldn't have to hear J.C. talk

And J.C. Collins is the finest historian,
Or for him it's his biography,
Heck, as long as J. C.'s been around...
He's got him more rings than most trees!

His young brother Daryl says that when they grew up,
Old J.C. never did quite fit in,
No he wasn't the coolest of Collins',
Never looked much like his next of kin,

Could it be that J.C. was adopted?
Well, on second thought, I shouldn't say,
See, I might have to see him this summer,
And if he catches me, I'll have to pay

So I hope that you're not disappointed,
I admit this is quite "off the wall"
But then what'd you expect, to come from the brain,
Of the nut Michael W. Paul?
And I'm sorry I didn't say something nice,
like "I love you" or "you're quite a guy"
But then what if Priscilla should read this?
So we'll keep it between you and I