There have been threads started and passed, few have added material, and they have faded into the ether.
So I will open this thread to begin posting my works for others to see, and hope you enjoy the writing. Feel free to comment, or post your own, all are welcome.
For those that don't know, a Bard is a storyteller, often in a lyrical sense, and was the television of years gone by.
Update: when the thread pops up, check last page for the newest addition.
Posted from my CrackBerry at wapforums.crackberry.com
CrackBerry Bards~Stories, Tales, Poems, and Song.
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- 06-10-09, 08:58 AMBergerKingCrackBerry Bards~Stories, Tales, Poems, and Song.
- 06-10-09, 09:13 AMcrackgirly
I've got a few song references. Would they fit here?
Posted from my CrackBerry at wapforums.crackberry.com - 06-10-09, 09:23 AMBergerKingGenesis of a Man~Tale of the Beast
This tale, I must tell, in several parts. It is the tale of how I became a man in this world,( Not THAT story, oh ye of filthy mind!) but rather how I grew up and accepted responsibility for real.
Part 1
By 86, we had been working up to make a deployment overseas, known in parlance as a WestPac. My previous 2 years had seen a rocketship takeoff followed by a Challenger-like disaster. I had little trust in my leaders, conveyed back to me.
I had a girlfriend in Long Beach that wasn't helping my attitude, either. I'd recently been demoted, had a 1st class petty officer that was a swinging male appendage, and a Chief more useless than teats on a boar hog.
So, let's safely say, I had an attitude. I was angry, and meaner than a snake with an infected tooth with a temper worse than a grizzly after a Tabasco enema.
And I was being hounded. The 1st Class that got my 3rd Class (crow) stripe, was riding me like Zorro. On me day in and day out. No one was gonna make him back off. He was a 6'4" brotha with a nasty streak, and liked to get in a man's face, something I have a problem with from anyone. He also liked to jam his finger right under your nose if he thought he could get away with it.
He also ran with a pack of his bu��-buddies, and I was a loner.
So, he catches up to me one day, and starts in on me. I was in a particularly bad mood already, and he was just so, pleasant, to have in my face. I was also hung over from the night before. Bad timing.
So he backs me up to the bulkhead (wall) and jams this finger right into my face, I calmly recommended he remove the finger. Ice dripped from my words, which he found hilarious, asking me just who the he!! I thought I was, and he turned to his buds to share a laugh, jamming me in the lips.
I'm sorry if this is a little graphic, but I opened my mouth and bit down, hard. And gave him and me a nickname that day. He became known as "Teddy 9 Fingers", and I was dubbed,"The Beast".
He tried to have me booted out of the Navy for that, but, as strange events turned, he had been warned about his bad habit before, and got caught shortly thereafter with property stolen from other shipmates, and he rode the discharge rail, not me.
Posted from my CrackBerry at wapforums.crackberry.com - 06-10-09, 09:26 AMJustPlainJef
What do you mean by song references?
- 06-10-09, 09:26 AMBergerKingThat's what this is for, I would love to see our CrackBerry crews enjoy this thread.
Posted from my CrackBerry at wapforums.crackberry.com - 06-10-09, 09:30 AMthinkamp
BK I want more stories from you.
The first one was awesome!
Ever think of being a writer? - 06-10-09, 09:31 AMBergerKingPart 2
After my nemesis was removed from the ship in cuffs, life was a little better, but I was about to find myself in a mess, some of my own making, some inflicted upon me.
A new 1st class replaced T9, and we found our Chief was about to be replaced, also. And how!
The Chief came in and inherited a fustercluck. It's like the more commonly known term, just more disorganized. And what a mess it was!
Our previous days had been dreary. Our Captain was a Psych Major, and loved to see how far men would go before cracking up. We spent days, weeks, cruising around the islands off the California coast, waiting to launch test missiles. Battle station drills, General Quarters, General Quarters! All hands man your battle stations!
And then sit and do nothing, most of the time.
And after that, the 24 hour a day sweat and grit, and noise of the ship yard. 3 months of pure misery. Our nerves were frayed, and scuffles became common. Spirits were rock bottom, a mark of poor leaders. No one cared.
Then this pair comes aboard.
BM1 Bonta, a long-armed, barrel chested, bandy-legged Popeye-type, and BMC Caro, a flinty-eyed Vietnam Vet who fought in Riverine Patrol Boats. Tall Italian with a Pancho Villa mustache, and a gaze that could freeze a bonfire.
And here I am, Mr.20 year old busted kid with a really bad attitude. Oops.
Posted from my CrackBerry at wapforums.crackberry.com - 06-10-09, 09:33 AMBergerKingAmber, everyone got me started, and fro some reason the tap is on full. There will be more. (Cue; Born to be Wild)
Posted from my CrackBerry at wapforums.crackberry.com - 06-10-09, 09:37 AMBergerKingPart III.
We were informed of our impending WestPac deployment, and received some stunning news. We wouldn't be going overseas with a carrier.
We would be one of the escorts for a Battleship.
U.S.S. New Jersey
http://www.freewebs.com/dforecastle9...new_jersey.JPG
And we finally had our opportunity to see some of the world.
So, this duo began trying to rebuild a group of men into a coordinated team. And, this would be a Herculean task. Sparks flew, and the forging of a crew began. The verbal hammers rang out, blazing heat was applied to soft materials, sweat ran by the tankerful, and soon a new alloy started to resemble a usable tool.
I was given a challenge that would test my mettle. I was sent to LSE [Landing Signalman, Enlisted] school. My new duties would make me responsible to assist our helicopter get aboard a pitching, rolling, salt-splashed deck in any kind of weather. A deck just 40' wide by 85' long.
What they didn't know was that I have a handicap. I don't have normal depth perception, a problem that began in my youth.
Posted from my CrackBerry at wapforums.crackberry.com - 06-10-09, 09:39 AMBergerKing
I go to the LSE school at North Island Naval Air Station. Here, we as a group, spend 10 to 14 hours a day learning the basics of how to "wave" a helo aboard ship. They have simulated 'decks' painted on the hard pads at the old Imperial Beach landing field where we go down to practice the art of signalling, with SH-3 and SH-2, with a couple of CH-46 transports thrown in.
Winds from the downdrafts spray gravel and dust into your face, as an instructor tries to yell information over the din of screaming jet engines, whipping rotors, and 75mph rotorwash.
You're wearing goggles that barely give you air, and sweat pours into your eyes as you try and decipher and take in the movements, the subtle cues, and remember the sequences of the signals as a bird approaches the deck. Each helo has its own characteristics, each flies differently, and each has emergency procedures for various conditions, and you are doinf, learning, and ducking at the same time.
Now, throw in weather, sun in your eyes, rain, and another one, night.
It's kinda like teaching elephants to pirouette on tiptoe while swinging lawnmowers and performing sign language in a laundromat.
And while standing in the tempest, trying to make sure you do the right thing at the right time, your sphincter shuts so tightly you couldn't drive a knitting needle with a sledgehammer through it. (Sorry for that graphic, :eek: )
But you get through it. Hot, dripping with moisture, wrung out like an old dishrag. You learn, because lives depend on it. Including your own.
And you really start finding out what you're made of.
Posted from my CrackBerry at wapforums.crackberry.com - 06-10-09, 10:16 AMBergerKing
Part V.
At the end of the school, they give out an award, Top Dog, highest marks in the class.
Imagine my shock when they called me out to receive it.
I report back to the ship prior to starting Refresher Training, several weeks of brutal day-in, day out training scenarios. Drills, Flight quarters, Sea and Anchor detail, Vertical Replenishment, Underway Replenishment, Firefighting Drills, Casualty drills as complex as the mind can imagine.
If you get an hour of rest between drills, call yourself lucky. You are told you're dead sometimes. Your ship is killed in simulated torpedo, missile, bomb drops chemical attacks, mines, fires, flooding
Your shipmates are "maimed" injured, killed, burned, drowned. You learn how to deal with EVERY possible scenario, again, and again.
You see missiles, machine guns, cannons, torpedoes launched, grenades thrown. You learn to handle small arms. Fight intruders, fight terrorists and protect "special weapons".
You learn, and do it well, you're chances improve to live and tell the tale.
Posted from my CrackBerry at wapforums.crackberry.com - 06-10-09, 10:18 AMBergerKing
Part VI
You get sent to Shipboard Firefighting School, and Aviation FFS, where as you prepare, they tell you to remove eyeglasses and contact lenses, lest you have them welded to your face and eyeballs.
You fight fire after fire. Blast fires of DFM (diesel fuel, marine)JP5, (jet fuel), oil, electrical, and others. It is a crash course in getting to know what a steak on a grill experiences.
You wrestle fire hoses that can kill you if you don't keep hold. 120 psI of water main pressure can pick up a man like an elephant's trunk.
It is so difficult that you lose 10-15 lbs in that day. You'll feel it for the next week as you cough out globs of black phlegm. But you never forget it.
And there's DC school, damage control.
This is where you learn to fight flooding and shipboard damage. 10 hours in freezing cold salt water, where you scrape a knee and feel it burn like acid, eating into you. You're so numb at the end of the day, you think you'll never get warm again.
Posted from my CrackBerry at wapforums.crackberry.com - 06-10-09, 10:24 AMBergerKing
Part VII
After completiion of RefTra, we embarked on combat exercises. As a warship, we had to coordinate with others.
We operated with the Jersey, Long Beach, Gray, Thach, and Wabash. We operated with other ships in various formations.
They called this collection of warships:Battle Group Romeo.
We hunted submarines, our primary mission. And I quickly got my quals as an LSE completed.
But, as it is said, the trouble soon began.
I'd been aboard ship since Nov.'83. It was now Mar of '86. And I was burning out. I had not taken time off, and it was showing. So, I requested leave, a few weeks in advance. Granted.
I bought my ticket early so I could get it for a song. I'd be flying home to Texas for 30 days of no pressure. I needed it.
One day out, I was informed my leave was being cancelled. And I boiled over. Well, really, I exploded. Total fury. My tickets were non-reundable, and I was supposed to fly out at 0800. Since the word came down from Officer's Country, the lower chain of command was out.
I was told by the lieutenant that the ship was going on an unscheduled excercise, and I was going. I replied " No,Sir, you are quite incorrect, I AM going. You just don't know it yet. He called Chief Caro to head me off.
Caro intercepted me, and he tried to get me to back down. I didn't know him enough to trust him, and by now, I didn't care. He stood and glared at me, and I at him. (Texas plays here, from The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly)
He let me go by, down to the Command Master Chief.
I sat down and talked emphatically with him. He evaluated the situation, and told me to stay put.
About 30 minutes later, he walks the lieutenant in. He drops a piece of paper in front of me, stares daggers, then walks out.
The CMC tells me to have a great leave.
I got my gear, signed out, and got a motel near the airport, before someone could change their mind.
Crazy, not dumb.
Posted from my CrackBerry at wapforums.crackberry.com - 06-10-09, 10:27 AMBergerKing
Part VIII.
My leave went well. I slept in, rode horses, and generally told the world to kiss off for a month.
I returned to the ship with a week to go before we would deploy. I was met by one of my shipmates and told to get my gear ready, I was gonna be transferred to another ship until the deployment was over.
Oops.
I prepared things as instructed, and went to work, deciding that discretion was the better part of valor.
I was kept on edge that week. I was/wasn't going. I figured I was gonna take my hit for my impertinence. I was told, finally, to bring my stuff up on deck to transfer, so, I toted everything topside, where I was asked by the watch officer, where was I going?
He informed me there were no such orders. A light popped on in my head. I now had a clue what was going on. I was being harassed for my little show the previous month, but I didn't let on that I knew.
The following morning, we got underway for deployment. It was a cool, gray day, the cries of the gulls competed with men making preparations for sea. The 1MC blared, lines and brow taken in, the tugs gave off a mighty blast of exhaust a shrill whistle blew, we were underway!
As the sound of the ship's whistle died, we formed up on the forecastle, and stood to for Quarters.
It was at this time, I was instructed that once Sea and Anchor was secured, I was to report to the Mess Deck for duty. I replied, Wait, I've already HAD mess duty.
You have two months more, came the growled reply.
I stared at the Chief for a moment, and replied, "Aye, Chief."
No argument, this time.
Posted from my CrackBerry at wapforums.crackberry.com - 06-10-09, 10:31 AMJustPlainJef
Hurry Up With The New Stuff!!!!!!!!!!
- 06-10-09, 10:32 AMBergerKing
Part IX
I reported to the Mess Deck Master-at-Arms (MDMAA), the Petty Officer who had the duty over the guys on mess duty. (Mess is a Navy eating facility, galley a kitchen)
He looked at me and said I could go to the scullery (dishwashing unit in a compartment the size of an average smaller bedroom, where you are wet all the time, mostly from sweat)for that job. Been there, done that, and since I'm the senior guy here, I just don't think that's gonna work, guy, I told him. He thought about it, and told me to take over the drink line. Cool.
Now, the guy on the drink line is a busy guy, and can get a lot of perks if he has his schitt together. I had an advantage here, I'd been tutored by Chief Methuselah (don't really remember his name, he'd just been around forever)on the art and mysticism of producing Navy coffee.
Now, our coffee service had 4 large units. We usually had 2 active, and 2 ready to brew. It came in 2 forms, Original, and Extra Crispy.
Original was kinda lightweight stuff. It was for the average coffee drinker, and was the second straining from the brewing of a pot of Extra Crispy.
Extra Crispy was a sailors' best friend. The brew is heavy, richly flavored, and can wake the dead, be substituted for torpedo fuel in a pinch, and has been known to make the unwitting Original drinker blow steam out of his ears like an old locomotive whistle. (I've heard it is also used to remove barnacles, but have never confirmed this!)
Stronnnng stuff.
And they man who can make it is worshiped like a god descending from Mt. Olympus. So I had found a way to get popular with a lot of the guys from other divisions.
Things were working out very well until I was approached by the Mess Chief and MDMAA, and offered the primo job for a mess attendant. Jack'o the Dust, the guy in charge of the storerooms and reefers and freezer. He works mostly alone, fills the supply orders for each day, and keeps the storage areas tidy. He also has access to everything. Yowza, Yowza, Yowza.
I was a happy guy. And I could make others happy, too.
Like the time the cooks made chili. Standard Navy fare. Sometimes as exciting as, mashed potatoes.
The cooks were about to toss a hundred and fifty pounds of leftover chili. Ohhhh Noooo!! Give it to me, I asked, I'm gonna take it and work on it, and I'll freeze it for later (not normally done). I doctored 4 large trays of chili, and stashed it in the freezer, where it sat for about 3 weeks.
This led to a bout one night with mid-rats. This is a mini-meal served at 11pm, or 2300, for the oncoming/off going watch crews. Usually, it's sandwiches, but one night, Ray found my chili and thawed it. And he put it on the line.
It disappeared fast! The guys just gorged on it. They absolutely demolished all of it before mid-rats ended. Even the officers had a batch of it.
Now, since I was free to work my own hours, I would wander at night, sometimes, and went up to the bridge to shoot the breeze with my guys on midwatch. While I was there, I discovered my chili had an interesting effect.
A...symphony...had begun to...warm up, shall we say. Woodwinds and brass. At least one of the guys had brought a duck call. I swear the lieutenant had smuggled a tuba onto the bridge, and in the red tinted darkness, we discovered the REAL meaning of greenhouse gases...
So about 0200, I eased away into the corner by the Captain's chair, since no one was supposed to be there. Eased out an SBD (my emissions are legendary, sometimes) and sneaked away, back over to the chart table.
And who should walk in but the XO, 2nd in command, and goes over near the scene of the crime. Then the CO walks in, across the bridge, and climbs up into his chair and settles in.
The mine explodes....
A rather loud exclamation is heard as the Captain says "Holy schitt, XO, are you going to say excuse me?! It smells like a effing goat locker up here."
I slipped silently down into CIC (Combat Information Center) and out through there and onto the Harpoon deck with tears of laughter rolling down my cheeks! I laughed so hard I almost wet myself!
It all went swimmingly, and at the end of June, I was relieved, then I returned to my parent division.
Back to an unknown fate.
Posted from my CrackBerry at wapforums.crackberry.com - 06-10-09, 10:58 AMJustPlainJef
WHERE'S THE KABOOM??? THERE'S SUPPOSED TO BE AN EARTH SHATTERING KABOOM!!!!
I mean, where's the ending already???? - 06-12-09, 10:45 PMBergerKingBerry Girl- by LazyStarGazer
A piece from one of my fellow TBLers.
[QUOTE=LazyStarGazer;2493618]Great stuff ! Now, if one of the ladies here could compose something with Barbie Girl by Aqua:
I'm a Berry Girl, in a ber-ry wo-rld.
Its glass and plastic, its fantastic.
If you touch my phone,
Ill make you take me hom-me.
There'll be no call back,
Ill make you crawl back.
Texting with my nails,
Checking my ema-ils.
Feel like a web queen,
Where have my friends been?
Love my berry, its not scary
Aahh aahh aahh aahh
My pretty berry takes me where we
Oooh wah hoo, oohh wah hoo ... - 06-12-09, 10:49 PMBergerKingLyrics-CrackBerry No.5
Sung to the music of Mambo No.5.
Ladies and gentlemen,
This is CrackBerry No.5!
1,2,3,4,5,
Everybody grab your Berries, c'mon let's jive.
To the Slacker radio, you know you wanna!
The boys say they want/some apps for free.
But I really don't wanna,
Beta test like I did last week.
I must stay deep 'cause text is cheap!
I like Tetris,and e-mail,
Yahoo, and readers.
And as I continue, you know it's gettin' sweeter.
So what can I do? I really beg you, my Curve.
To me posting is just like a sport.
Anything flies, Oh it's all good.
So let me pump it!
A little BlackBerry in my life.
Send a few e-mails on the side.
A little bit of readings what I need.
A little bit of Googles what I see.
A little bit of messenger, here I am!
A little CrackBerry makes me a fan!
CrackBerry No.5!
Jump up and down,and wave it all around.
Shake your head to the sound.
Put your hands on the ground.
Roll your track ball left, roll it back to the right.
Roll it up to the top and quick to the side.
Click your ball once, click your ball twice.
And when your download's saved, you're doing it right!
A little BlackBerry in my life.
Send a few e-mails, on the side.
A little bit of readings'
what I need.
A little bit of Googles'
what I see.
A little bit of messenger , here I am!
A little CrackBerry and I'm a fan!
Pimp-it! Don't drop it!
CrackBerry No.5!
A little BlackBerry, in my life.
Send a few e-mails, on the side.
A little bit of readings what I need.
A little bit of Googles' what I see.
A little bit of messenger, here I am!
A little CrackBerry, hey I'm a fan!
What-I'd-do, to post with a crew like you!
Cause you can't run, and you can't hide.
We're all addicted, so come inside!
CrackBerry No.5!
A nod of the head to Lou Bega, thanks for the inspiration! - 06-13-09, 06:28 AM
I love your stories bk! :)
and your CrackBerry number 5 is so funny and clever!! - 06-13-09, 07:03 AMBigBadWulf
Very good Beast! I will have to make the time to contribute more, here's my song first posted on the "I Like" thread:
Posts from the newbies and AG all smitten
Bright LED lights and threads that are written
Full data packages not cans with strings
These are a few of my favorite things
Theme colored housings and crisp resolutions
Pete6 and CrackMem and memory solutions
Wild apps of all kinds and trackballs in rings
These are a few of my favorite things
Sticky device posts with beta os’s
Kevin the founder and all of his classes
Personal ringtones that make us all sing
These are a few of my favorite things
When the red lights
When the Pearl rings
Then I’m feeling glad
I simply remember my favorite things
My CrackBerry is so rad - 06-13-09, 07:16 AMBergerKingI Like-The CB Edition, by BigBadWolfI was actually going to import that over here later from the other thread you'd posted that in. I would love that this focus our works in a spot for others to enjoy.
Thanks, Bro.
Posted from my CrackBerry at wapforums.crackberry.com - 06-13-09, 07:18 AMBergerKingThank you, Shilah. I'm glad I can bring you the light.
Posted from my CrackBerry at wapforums.crackberry.com - 06-13-09, 07:46 AMBigBadWulf
Yeah, I had a feeling you were going to sneak it over here anyway! Anytime my brother, from possibly another mother. I think you'd agree though, some of our best work is strewn throughout CrackBerry. Both Off-Topic and On. So for those of you weren't there at the time, it could be difficult to find a lot of it. I've stories on threads that are buried (or is that berried?:)), my usual amusing quips, and sometimes deep philosophical thoughts through TBL (That's Trackball Lights for those of you wondering, and the link on my signature. Commonly found at or near the top of Off-Topic Discussion), which there's no way anyone could sift through at this point. Confrontation and animation in "WTF is with Prada", and classic commentary to people looking to use ColorPearl/BlingBall on non 8100's. Some of those posts were very personal, and I will let lay dormant, but I will give it a shot to pull some of my rabbits back out of the hat. As for "Prada", that link is on the first post of TBL, and is peppered with quality stuff from many besides me. Anyone who wants to peer into the way this forum's members can behave as a tight knit family, should definitely read it.
- 12-31-09, 02:25 PMBergerKing
A piece of my work from back in May, from another thread.
*****
So while my thoughts are crystal clear, I'll have to post, some things right here.
Styx, Blondie, U2, and Branigan, remind me of young shenanigans.
The 80s are, I hate to say, two decades gone, this "New Year's Day."
"Too Much Time On My Hands," it doesn't last. So many things, make up our past.
I look upon, this new old face, and my fingers touch another trace.
The spots, these lines, upon my face, experience, I can't erase.
I grab my Curve, and keep it near, to hear the songs, that I hold dear.
"He!! Is For Children," cries Benatar. These many roads, I have gone far.
The chidren stare, they have no tact, "What's with this Ancient artifact?"
The music blasts, the sounds so pure, could it be, it's from The Cure?
I crank the sound, you know I wanna, another song, from Madonna?
Will you dance, if you still can, to "Rio", from Duran Duran?
While it's been fun, a little while, you can see it in my "Whiplash Smile".
Into my chair, I deeply sink, it gives me time, to flippin' think!
So I raise a can, for I must toast, the music, the bands, I love the most.
And as I nap, the static hiss, "Sweet Dreams", you know, are made of this.
Posted from my CrackBerry at wapforums.crackberry.com