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There’s a shopping trip from Helsinki to Christiana. That is Helsinki Finland to Christiana Russia. It also goes the opposite way from Christiana to Helsinki. From Helsinki you board the shopping boat at 1:30 am and it takes you over to Christiana by 9:00 am. We decided to give it a try to see all of the great artwork in the museums of Christiana, No visa required as long as you are back on the boat by 9:00 pm to return.

Off the boat and up the the street we went. It took almost a half an hour to reach the artsy part of town. I won’t bore you with all of the cathedrals and museums we visited, but they were all beautiful. We had a light lunch at 1:00 and then more art and more art. We found a cozy little family style restaurant around 5:30 for dinner

The owners spoke no english but the grandkids did. We explained about the shopping boat and that we needed to get back to the docks by 9:00 pm. No problem they said. Soon more grandkids and regular kids were amassed at our table. We talked, ate, dranh vodka, and talked some more. Some where in there we lost track of the time and suddenly it was 9:15 pm. And, our boat had sailed.

Without a visa we were illegally in Russia. A plan was made to hide us out until morning and put us on the Christiana to Helsinki boat at 3:30 am the next morning. One of their friends was on his way and he and his wife woulld put us up and drive us to the docks in time for the boat.

Soon Ivan arrived and told us the plan. We would pay him about $10, and he would walk us to his house a few blocks away. There we could spend the night in their guest room. He would drive us to the docks early in the am. He also said that if any thing happened that we should not mention the money part to anyone. We agreed. Being a little bit tipsy and that Julie was from Jersey and prone to be loud and obnoxious he warned us to be quiet as we walked.

That didn’t stop Julie though, she was loud and obnoxious tossing the F bomb around. He kept shushing her but it was too late. Two patrolmen heard her and saw us. They discretely followed us . When we got to the house our host was introducing us to his wife when the knock on the door came. Enter the police who wanted to know what we wee up to. The younger cop spoke english fairly well and as I was explaining the older cop was talking to Ivan in russian and he was telling the same story as mine. All the while Julie was waving her American passport and yelling that we were American citizens and couldn’t be treated this way. It was a mess. Soon no one was speaking english.

It was decided that the captain would sort it all out at the station. So off the five of us went . Now the police station reminded me of that old tv show Car 54 where are you. An older man sat behind this huge deck looking stern. We were cuffed to a metal bar and Julie would not shut up. The younger cop finally told me to make her shut up or we would be in serious trouble. She did! After a lot of discussion it was decided that we would spend the night in a cell–be given something to eat in the morning early—and then the police would drive us to the docks and make sure she got on the boat and left Russia forever

Regular Russian people are kind of like regular American people. I think that it was to much of a hassle to report us to the KGB, they just wanted us gone. And, I didn’t want to spend 15 years in Siberia. We were crateful for the hospitality and Ivan kept the #10. A win/win.

THe ship was a car ferry holding 100 or so cars.15/20 berths and for us poor people open deck space to camp out on. It was an 18-19 hour trip that left around 7 am arriving around 4/5 am next day. Weather not with standing.

We had moved up to the fifth deck in the aft overlooking the swimming pool. We tied our pack to the corrigated roofing and set up camp. there were 85/95 of us yungins up there with music playing and much beer drinking. Our fist beer run was me and four other srtapping lad who went down five decks to the galley and each retrieved wo cases of beer. That lasted an hour or two.

At two pm the weather started to get a little choppy, well, maybe a lot choppy. Several people started getting seasick. Then we made the pact. You could stay as long as you didn’t get sick. Once you heaved we hoed you out. Soon the ship was being tossed around. The waves were washing over the deck. Now this is the fifth drck. Several more people were gone by now. Then three men tied to each other and the deck railing below came out in this weather to open the swimming pool gates, by hand, so the water would wash through and not pull the tail down.

At nine pm only two of us were needed to go down the five decks for beer.. On our way up I asked a crew man how it was going. He didn’t sugar coat it, he said the pumps were running full blast, full steam ahead and losing ground to the storm, and he had high hopes the the storm would break around midnight. Then it would be smooth sailing after the . He said we only lost 14/15 hours, maybe a little more. Nothing to worry about.. HaHa.

When we got back to the fifth deck with the good news we had lost 12/15 more. Now we were down to 18/20 diehards. We turned the music down and hunkered down and around one the waves receeded. By two we has smooth sailing at about 1/3 speed. One of the mates told us it was to conserve petol.

Around five am the galley ran out of beer and the steward gave me his last bottle of vodka. The final 15 of us who weathered the storm and didn’t get sick shared it hobo style as the sun came up over the horizon. We limped into Naxos harbor about 4 pm . We had only lost 11 hours, But what a trip.

The bus dropped us off around 10 am the next morning. It was a painfully long trip stopping every wher except Timbuktoo. Also, it was Sunday. Half of the town was closed. Hungry and thirsty we found a taverna that was open. A couple of beers and some lunch and we were felling fine again.

Time to make some travel plans. I went down to the docks and got the Ferry schedules. The ferry headed to the island of Naxos was leaving the next morning. Finally a relaxing day. We ordered two more beers and were looking at the big map of Europe. I fished one of my miniature Crown Royal bottle from my backpack and slowly opened the royal purple bag. Just then a young lad walked up and asked me what it was. I told him it was a Canadian whiskey and offered it to him. He sat down as I fished a canadian club miniature out and we both had a whiskey.

He told us where we could stay near the boats. The good place to eat, but we couldn’t eat there because you had to be a local. He took Julie to liquir store to buy a real bottle of ouzo not the stuff they sell to tourists. When it started to get dark he took us to the good restaurant and went in and asked the owner if she would feed us. Dinner for three. She treated us like royalty and fed us like kings We did get to pay this time.

By then it was around eleven pm We had no where to sleep so we decided to sleep out on the dock where the boat to Naxos was leaving from in the morning. He said he’d talk to the man on deck and ask if we could sleep on board. We could with the promise to pay in the morning. We found a cozy little spot and woke to people every where and the boat leaving. To the sea

The Island of Samos lies in the northeast Agean sea. The capital city of Samos is Samos. It is the main port on the north coast. We landed on the south coast and made our way to the small seadide city there. We found a taverna. We sat at an empty table and waited, waited, and waited. Twenty minutes later a nice middle aged gentleman came over and sat down with us. He said that no one will wait on us because we were tourisnts. He also said that since he was sitting with us they would serve us. He waved a hand snd a waitress appeared.

We ordered some sort of danishes and coffee and he just had coffee. We told him we were waiting for the bus to Marathacompo, a beach farther down the coast. He told us he was the high sheriff and that’s why they served us. He explained that tourists were expected to go to the tourist restaurants and not the local ones. When I rolled a cigarette he told me to be careful because drugs were a big nono and even rolling a cigarette might cause a stir. We thanked him for the tip and as we got ready to catch the bus I reached into mt pocket for some money and he stopped me and saiid that his guests never paid and the they never charged him any way

The bus ride was a long trek over a mountain with an interesting cast of riders, including a goat named Yarri. We stopped in several small villages and most of the passengers got off at them. By the time we reached Marathcompo there wer only 6 or 7 of us touristists. Two more friendly than the rest were Paul and Helga. Australian and German on vacation from Munich. We bacame fast friends, checked in to the pension, and got ajoining rooms. Off to the beach we went.

After a nice nap we met up for dinner at the taverna across the street over looking the water. Too much wine, food, and good conversation. At about ten o’clock we decided tto go for a swim. There was alittle floating raft about 56/60 feet off shore that the kids played on all day. Someone got the idea we should swim out to it and drink more wine. Paul and I went back and got two more bottles of wine and when we got back the girls had stripped naked and were waiting for us

Stripped naked it was. We swam out to the raft and had a little party. When the wine ran out we swam back, went to our table, and drank a few brandies (Metaxa). The next day everyone was really nice to us. People came over and chatted a lot. Almost like we were celebrities. Later that evening when were having dinner the moon rose over the water and lit up that little raft like a New York stage. It was so clear that you could almost see the deck screws holding it together. That was when we realized why we were so popular.

We left a few days later taking the bus north to the capital Samos .Pauk and Helga were staying for two mere weeks. We took their number in Munich and told them we would call them when we got there. Onward and upward.

ps We found out that the high sheriff was the most important person in the town

My girlfriend Julie had won best beach body in 1979. She definitely deserved it . Now in 1980 she was gearing up to defend her tittle. No one had ever won two best beach bodies in a row before. She had an honest shot at it unless Marilyn Monroe showed up.

She didn’t need to work out, she had the boby, the hair, and the beach look already. But, she needed the perfect bikini. Now back in 1980 they didn’t sell bikinis piecemeal, they sold them as a set. You could buy a size four or you could buy a size eleven. You couldn’t buy a size 4/11 though. Julie being well endowed needed one of those xize 4/11s.

So, off to the mall we went to find the elusive size 4/11. After visiting two stores I said I’d be at the bar watching the football game. When she was done to come and get me. Some where in the third quarter she found me there. No Suit!

She was very excited and started speaking very quickly, so quickly I couldn’t understand a word she was saying. After calming her down with a glass of wine she finally started making some sense. She had found the perfect suit, a yellow almost strapless job that showed almost everything she possessed and then some more. Problem.

Problem as it was in two parts. A size 4 bottom and then a size 11 top from another suit. My job was to go back to the Woodward and Lothrops department store and buy it for her. I asked the usual stupid boyfriend questions, one being “do I have to buy two suits?” Of course not she replied. I switched the top size 11 with the bottom size 4 and stashed the together behind all of the other suits. All I had to do was find it.

As I was headed out of the bar she told me to chat the sales girl up so she wouldn’t notice the switch. Second floor, women’s apparel, sports gear deprtment here I come. The young sales girl saw me right away and asked if I needed any help. I told her straight away that I was looking for a swim suit for my Girlfriend and she pointed to a rack of suits with a smile.

I pretended to shop and looked her way with my best smile. I went from rack to rack all the while looking her way and smiling. I found the said suit right where Julie said it would be and rolled it up. I took it to the checkout where the young girl was waiting. She smiled as I walked up and when I told her I had found the right suit she smiled again.

I asked how long she had worked there, was she a student ,did she like working there, and anything else clever I could think of. All the time beaming a soft sincere smile. She smiled back and answered all of my inquiries as she rang up the suit. I paid for the suit without taking my eyes off of her. She smiled again, put the receipt in the bag, and handed it to me. Come back any time she said as I walked away. I even looked back halfway out of the store.

Back to the bar where Julie was waiting. She grabbed the bag and checked the suit to make sure I goy the right one. I did. We had lunch and caught the bus back home. When we got back to our apartment she dumped the suit onto the bed. The sakes slip floated out and down onto the bed. Julie picked it up to check the price when sh saw it. It being Paula’s name and phone number neatly written on the back of the receipt with the words Come Again Any Time with a smiley face for good measure. Do I have to go on about what happened .

ps Julie did repeat and the suit really helped

I met susan wells at an art museum in Washington D.C. An aspiring artist living in Couer D’ Alene Idaho. She gave me her number and invited me to visit. Just call before you come she said.I told her I would call when I left DC.

I took a few weeks off from work and packed my backpack. I hit the road the next day. A hitchhike from DC to Idaho Falls was pretty straight forward. Up I 70 to Breezewood Pa. Then the turnpike I-80/90 west almost all the way. I luckily got a ride all the way to Livingston Montana.. I stopped for the night at a small family motel near the Highway.

I rose early and headed west on highway 14.My first ride took me to Big Timber where I stopped for lunch. Then an old rancher named Frank took me all the wat to Couer D’ Alene Idaho Idaho. Nearly there. One phone call and Susan picked me up twenty minutes later.

We spent two weeks going from museum to museum. It was a nice time . But it was time to leave. Many goodbyes and a ride all the way back to Bug Timber. Back on the road. I took aride all the way halfway through Iowa wth an invite to spend the night. Took the invite, but it was off the beaten path, some forty miles from I-90. But up early with a ride to about 7 miles from the highway.

I started walking at 7:30 am. Five miles would take me 4 hours or so on account of my heavy backpack. After casually strolling along for two hours I could make out the line that was I-90. My spirits lighter I kept walking. and the highway cane closer, the I felt a strange wind behind me. I turned around and saw a dark line of clouds. I kept walking for 20 more minutes and looked back again. Now the line of ugly black and deep green clouds was creeping up the sky towards me. I looked ahead and it was still 1 1/2 miles away. I started walking faster. I cut the distance in half before I looked back again. Now that ugly line of clouds was still gaining on me, but now lightning bolts were were shooting out of it. I started to run towards I-90 looking back over my shoulder as I ran. The wind was howling now and a light rain started to fall. Still I ran on and the viaduct bridge was within reach. I looked back once more and I saw it. The funnel cloud coming right down the road.

I made it to the bridge, crawled under it, and pulled my backpack over me. Then every thing went silent. 20-25 cars pulled up under the bridge too. I guess they saw me crawl under and joined me. Then it came, sounded like a freight train as it roared across the bridge. Nothing moved for 2 minutes and then it was gone. I came out and saw thet a huge chunk of bridge was gone, the metal rail on one side was gone,two cars were crushed under the rubble,and everyone was out of their cars. I checked the two crushed cars and everyone was okay.

Then someone said he was going to Pittsburg and asked if I wanted a ride Sure I said and off we went. He dropped me at the Greyhound station in Pittsburg where I caught a bus to DC

This was no ordinary sweater. This sweater had SUPER POWERS. Its special super power was ugly, not your usual ugly, but drop dead ugly. How ugly was it? Well when you looked up ugly in the dictionary a picture of this sweater was right next to it. So ugly that when I went to an ugly sweayer party all of the other ugly sweaters stopped and stared. Then they packed it in and went home with their tails between their legs. Now that you have a picture of my sweater, the story begins.

I found it in a resale shop in Georgetown in 1976. The sweater was large, shaggy, a black and blue shaggy thing with yellow, red, orange, green, and a strange shade of purple. It had big brown leather buttons. It was a cardigan and was first made some time in the 20’s or 30’s. It had a hand made label from some fancy boutique in New York, New York. It had dark leather patches on the elbows. I t was my pride and joy. I wore it all the time and got lots and lots of stares. Then I met my wife Joyce.

Joyce wasn’t as enamored with my sweater as I was. In fact she hated it and wouldn’t go out with me if I was wearing it. So, I would only wear it when II was out on my own. We soon moved in together and were married a year or so later. Two years after that we moved to Greebush Michigan. The sweater came along. I wore it less iften in Michigan, but it was still my favorite. Some time around April a few of my sweaters disappeared. I asked Joyce about it and she told me it wa put away with other winter clothing and would be brought back out in the fall.

I spent the summer with out my old friend. Until one day I as down at St Vincents in Tawas when I saw something hanging on a rack. I went over to this item and lo and behold, there was my ugly seater. I checked the color, blue and black bases with yellow, red, orange, green, and some strange purple. It had a hand made label from the same boutique in New York. Big brown leather buttons and dark patches on the elbows.

I was in shock. My wife had donated my pride and joy instead of stowing it away. I put it in, it fit perfedt. I took it up to the counter and paid three dollars for it, 17 dollars less the original price. Don’t worry, it gets better. Bill’s revenge. I took it home and hid it in closet. I had 3 months till Christmas and a plan began to take shape in my devious mind. I checked every week to make sure she hadn’t found it yet. Christmas came slowly, slowly.

A week before Christmas I wrapped my friend, put b ow on it, with a label with my name on it. I tucked it under the tree with other gifts. Christmas arrived and after coffee we started to open our gifts. The special package was way in the back. Slowly I dragged it out from under the tree and kinda looked at it. Then I found the label and said wit surprise it was for me. I pulled the wrapping off and low and behold again. My wifes jaw dropped, she stared blankly, and went silent. I pulled it and fluffed it. I held it up to my chest as she stared. Silent, dumb founded, with a stupid look on her face. It’s just my size I squealed. Merry Christmas Baby.

P.S. The elbows blew out two years later and I had to give it up to the bin.

Now that we know who Kenny Galvin of the Boston Galvins is a bit more background. Kenny was a great drinking friend up and until the sixth or seventh drink. Right about then he would start to get med at everything and nothing at all. Many was the time that he would pick a fight with the largest and meanest lookin guy in the bar. Many was the time that I got my ass kicked defending him.

So on this beautiful September evening, as I was walking down “M” Street, on my way up the strret to another bar, who do I run into. Kenny Galvin. We greet on the street and I can see that he’s just about to that mean place. He askes where I’m bound and I tell him I’m on my way up to au pied a cochon to meet a young lady for a date. He says he’d like to come along and I explain to him that its a DATE Date.. He insists and I rebuke. He insists again and I sill say NO! He gets mad and takes a swing at me which I adeptly avoid, which makes him madder. Soon he’s swinging and I’m blocking hoping he will tire out, when a group of young boys all around 12-13 start yelling fight fight fight. Kenny has that look on his face and just as he’ starts to swing at me once more he stops mid punch, turns, and punches one of the kids right in the face.

Now a real fight is on. Me and Kenny against the eight or nine kids. Im holding my own when Kenny picks one of them up and throws through the store front window. The alarm goes off klankity klang, The kids scatter, and we run around the corner and into Martin’s Tavern. Into the back dugout to hide. We can hear cop cars cruising through the alley and one officer comes in and looks around and leaves again.

Afte fifteen minutes or so and a change of shirt I figure the coast is clear. I thank Billy Martin for the shirt, tell Kenny I’m going to meet my date when he says He wants to come along. I just say NO! walk out through the kitchen and got to the pig. Alone.

PS There was no date I was just trying to get rid of him

Back story, Jody Stewart stood six feet and seven inches tall. He was a jolly chap from some where in northern Michigan. He drove a cab for a liviving and by far one of the nicest people I knew

One night in Old Macs, the local drinking hole in Georgetown DC I was sitting with my girlfriend, her sister, and someone named Kenny Galvin. Kenny Galvin of the Boston Galvins was telling us all about his bootblack business. A bootblack shined shoes. He had bootblack stand in all of the major mall around DC, and he worked at the stand in the Georgetown Park(very lucrative). At some point Kenny got up and went to the bathroom,when at the same time Jody walked in. Jody looked around and some some friends at a table across the way with no chair for him to sit on. He turned and saw us sitting there and reach over and took Kenny’s chair before I could say a word.

Kenny returned to find his chair missing and went ballistic. To clrrify, Kenny stood 5feetand four inches tall to Jody’s six feet and seven inches tall. Jody turned around, stood up and went to hand the offended chair back to Kenny when Kenny leaped over the table right inti Jody’s chest and knocked him down and started hitting him. After three or four good punches landed Jody picked Kenny up and held him there while Kenny continued to swing and miss. A few minutes later when Kenny was worn out he gave up and Jody gently put him down and returned the said chair.

By then the girls had left and Kenny, Jody, and I sat down and drank some beers. And that is how I met Kenny Galvin., the smallest guy picking a fight with the biggest guy in the bsr.

I used to drive from dc to West River Maryland on the Chesapeake Bay every week. I would drive there on Tuesday and grive back to the city on Friday morning. I would drive down md Rte 4 to the Suitland Parkway to the city. On md 4 there was a well known speed trap run bt the State Police.

Knowing where it was when I neared ir I would set my cruise contol at 56 mph. I would just cruise through the trap with out a second glance, until, that fateful Friday. I slowed down to 56, set the cruise control , and headed into the trap.

For some strange reason I picked a a trooper tailing me. I left the cruise on and heased toward the Suitland Parkway. The Suitland Parkway is a federal parkway and the Maryland State Police had no juristiction. It was about 8 or9 miles from the speed trap. The trooper was still following me. As I neared the entrance to the parkway I had to move over two lanes to the left getting ready to make my turn. As I changed lanes the trooper changed lanes with me. As I turned on my indicater he turned on his flashers and pulled me over.

I had to cross both lanes back to the right and then pulled into a parking lot. I got out of my car and pulled out my wallet as the trooper walked up to me. Now I have to describe this trooper before I can go on. Have you ever seen Gomer Pyle pfc from the sixty. Well, picture sgt Carter. Buzz cut,5ft8in tall, 3 feet wide, and three feet thick. Viens bulging on hie forehead as he screams licence and registration. Then, do you know why I pulled you over? As I hand him my papers I said I had no clue why he pulled me over. He yelled speeding, that I was going 56 in a 55 zone.

In the baclground he younger partner was just standing there hiding his face while he laughed silenently. Sgt Carter then writes me a speeding ticket for one mile per hour over the speed limit.

Part two- I decided to fight the speeding ticket. My girlfriend and I drove over to Annapolis for court on a Monday. I figured we could have a nice lunch after. In court we 5th on the list of cases. The judge was very strict and was handing down jail time for some defendents. The two state troopers were there in there Sunday best uniforms right down to their hats.

When my case was called I stepped into the dock as the troppers stepped up to the prosecutors table. The judge asked for the charges. He read the charges right from the troopers report. Follow my car for 8 or 9 miles to pace my speed. Noted my speed was 56 in the 55 zone. Finally pulled me over before I left the jurisdiction. Wrote me the $105.00 ticket. Then the judge held up a hand and asked if the troopers were present and they stood up. He asked sgt Carter one question. Did it take you 8 or 9 miles of pacing to get my speed? As the trooper started to tell the judge that they were being thorough. Then the judge said step forward and he put down his hat and walked up to the bench. He said 8 or 9 miles of 56 mph in the 56 zone, 8 or 9 miles! Then the judge started yelling at the troop for wasting the courts time, writing prtty tickets, and pissing him off.

I stood up at the point and asked what I was supposed to do now, and he said that I should leave, my case was dismissed, and then as I was leaving he started to yell at sgt Carter again. He was still yelling as we exited the court and went to lunch. Bu $ 105.00 fine.