Turk10mm
Just smokin
- Joined
- Jul 16, 2007
- Messages
- 782
Being that I'm new here, and the fact that I'm relatively new to smoking cigars of any quality I didn't really have any content to post here until today..
I've been a volunteer firefighter since I was 16 years old. Its been a passion of mine, something that I really love and have worked very hard on over the years. When I as 21, I had my foot crushed which doused the chances of me ever being a paid firefighter. If I could have just rolled back the hands of time, I would give up my office job, the salary, the bonuses, the gravy that allows me to do the things I do today, to sweat my ass off with boys on a truck every day.
Well, the time has come in my life that I must give up fire fighting, at least for now.. I'm 31 and not in any shape to be kicking doors in and putting the wet stuff on the red stuff. I've seen my share, I've also lost a couple friends. I've had a roof collapse on me, I've delivered a baby, I've seen the results of drinking and driving time and time again. I've sucked up every minute possible in 15 years.
To get to the point, I'm moving. That means I'm moving away from my district, from my department, from my brothers and sisters. I'm moving because I have fallen in love with a woman, who I'm planning on spending the rest of my life with, whom I want to have babies with, and be a husband and father for a long time to come. With all this in mind, I won't be rejoining the department in my new neighborhood. I've been a rookie 3 times in 15 years. I don't have the patience, nor the desire to be one again. I have nothing against my new area's FD, but there's just too much work that I've invested elsewhere to start over, and risk it all again..
I may feel differently in time, but the truth is, my days of firefighting are limited. I had 15 good years of tearing stuff up and cutting cars in half, with the last 5 years really noticing that I'm not as capable as I was. I'm not saying I'm old or can't do it, but that a few years in something as taxing as firefighting can really be felt in the back, on the brow, and in the heart.
So I cleaned out my locker last night. I returned my department issued gear. I cleaned up my personally owned gear which included my leather helmet, truck belt, and maul (the three things I was never without) I brought them home with a heavy heart. I didn't realize how sad it made me until I walked in the door and my girlfriend asked me what was wrong. I had to fight the tears to remain tough. You know, fireman don't cry. I hung my helmet on the wall in my office and went outside for a smoke.
I pulled out the Opus X Fuente Fuente that Jhawk had sent me as part of a newbie sampler (thanks again buddy) and knew that this was a time where I wouldn't feel weird about smoking an expensive cigar. I poured a 6 finger drink and sat down on the patio with my dog. I day dreamed about the past, the good and the bad. I remembered the scary times when shit hit the fan and the happy times when life prevailed over death.
I just sat and remembered.
This is my best and worst cigar memory..
Looky there, the 100th reply.
Below are a handful of my worst or scariest memories that were photographed.. I won't go into the details about each, but they have their special places in my dreams.
I've been a volunteer firefighter since I was 16 years old. Its been a passion of mine, something that I really love and have worked very hard on over the years. When I as 21, I had my foot crushed which doused the chances of me ever being a paid firefighter. If I could have just rolled back the hands of time, I would give up my office job, the salary, the bonuses, the gravy that allows me to do the things I do today, to sweat my ass off with boys on a truck every day.
Well, the time has come in my life that I must give up fire fighting, at least for now.. I'm 31 and not in any shape to be kicking doors in and putting the wet stuff on the red stuff. I've seen my share, I've also lost a couple friends. I've had a roof collapse on me, I've delivered a baby, I've seen the results of drinking and driving time and time again. I've sucked up every minute possible in 15 years.
To get to the point, I'm moving. That means I'm moving away from my district, from my department, from my brothers and sisters. I'm moving because I have fallen in love with a woman, who I'm planning on spending the rest of my life with, whom I want to have babies with, and be a husband and father for a long time to come. With all this in mind, I won't be rejoining the department in my new neighborhood. I've been a rookie 3 times in 15 years. I don't have the patience, nor the desire to be one again. I have nothing against my new area's FD, but there's just too much work that I've invested elsewhere to start over, and risk it all again..
I may feel differently in time, but the truth is, my days of firefighting are limited. I had 15 good years of tearing stuff up and cutting cars in half, with the last 5 years really noticing that I'm not as capable as I was. I'm not saying I'm old or can't do it, but that a few years in something as taxing as firefighting can really be felt in the back, on the brow, and in the heart.
So I cleaned out my locker last night. I returned my department issued gear. I cleaned up my personally owned gear which included my leather helmet, truck belt, and maul (the three things I was never without) I brought them home with a heavy heart. I didn't realize how sad it made me until I walked in the door and my girlfriend asked me what was wrong. I had to fight the tears to remain tough. You know, fireman don't cry. I hung my helmet on the wall in my office and went outside for a smoke.
I pulled out the Opus X Fuente Fuente that Jhawk had sent me as part of a newbie sampler (thanks again buddy) and knew that this was a time where I wouldn't feel weird about smoking an expensive cigar. I poured a 6 finger drink and sat down on the patio with my dog. I day dreamed about the past, the good and the bad. I remembered the scary times when shit hit the fan and the happy times when life prevailed over death.
I just sat and remembered.
This is my best and worst cigar memory..
Looky there, the 100th reply.
Below are a handful of my worst or scariest memories that were photographed.. I won't go into the details about each, but they have their special places in my dreams.
At the last picture.
enough of that shit..
