Surplus of Fun

After overhearing some kids in my 2nd hour English 10 class discussing strapping themselves to a 65 year old parachute, putting on some Chineese Flight Goggles and taking flight out of the sunroof of their car at 75 mph, I decided that I had a solid mission to accomplish over the weekend. That mission was to complete the trek to Joe's Army & Navy Surplus store in Royal Oak, MI.

You are probably thinking that driving to some store 38 miles away isn't too bad, but my friends made it just a bit more difficult. After facing gale force winds and cold temperatures at work for a few hours, I was ready to depart. I called up my good friend and fellow hockey player Zach Gearns (Gearns for short) and told him to fire up the Lumina and get ready to go. The Lumina, however, is no showroom fresh ride. It is a high speed behemouth that has been running like a well oiled machine since its first glimpse of daylight in 1992. With Gearns behind the wheel, he makes good use of every cubic inch of that 3.1 liter transversally mounted v-6. With me riding shotgun, we drove over to pick up Ryan and Kevin, two more members of our crew. We were locked and loaded, ready to adventure to new places.

"Turn Right, then take the motorway," the TomTom GPS system said in its Australian accent. We looked towards the highway, only to find the ramp under construction. Darn. So we followed the detour signs all the way to West 14 Mile road. "Your destination is ahead on the left," said the Electronic Aussie. The coins jingled in our pockets, and we could already invision the aisles upon aisles of Government Issued goods used for combat over the past six decades. As we looked to our left, all we saw was a parking lot. Someone (not naming names) had programmed the GPS wrong, because it was "wrong on the website." Oh well, Gearns has to go to hockey, so we better get going home.

With everyone dropped off, only Ryan and I remained. "I'm not giving up," he said, not being one to quit. So with the guidance of TomTom and the real adress, we left on our quest again. Following the detours, we thought we were well on our way. However, one wrong turn off the highway and we were at 8 and Haggerty. Wow, that's a downer. I guess we will return home as failures we thought. "I know that we will make it there by the end of the weekend," I said.

Note: My older brother, Andrew (known as A.U.) who is an aficionado for all things millitary did not join us due to golfing. On our third and final expidition, he would be piloting the "riceburner" 2008 Pontiac Vibe, which is my mother's car. We would not be taking "Deisel Tank" GMC Sonoma, because my dad did not trust it's safety for such an adventure.

Buckeled in, A.U, Gearns and I all jumped into the ricer, ready to embark on our final crucade to the promised land. However, it was not milk and honey but .50 cal. amunition and gas masks that we yearned for. After passing the "shiney building with the lake" no more than three times, countless occourances of yelling, and yes, we did even bring Bob Saget into this. But after Gearns prevented the retreat by whipping out his gas card and buying gas at the BP station. Running out of gas far away from home was not a risk worth taking. Finally, after countless encounters with ____burners, or lets just say foriegn cars, we arrived between 13 and 14 mile roads on Woodward Ave. Joe's Army Navy Surplus was in clear sight.

The building was what appeared to be an old pharmacy, built during Detroit's golden Era when the Big Three were something to take pride in. Next to the House of Exotic Fish where you could pick up some Chineese Fighting Fish for only $7.99 a piece, the building was just a plain shell for the treasures hidden inside the Desert Tan building. Entering the door, we felt like Steven Hawkings in a Math/Science Expo. Except there was no math and no Microsoft Sam voices. Anyway, we managed to browse the store, seeing how far we could stretch our $20.00. I decided that a Russian Gas mask and some Air Force Issue Aviator glasses would do the trick for me. A.U. on the other hand, decided that an East German Cold War gas mask was the appropriate choice. Gearns decided that a pair of Chineese Flight Goggles, smelling of old leather fit his style. Leaving the store, we had a sense of pride that could only be trumped by Jamie Escalante in the final scene his film, Stand and Deliver. Cha Ching.

Decked out in our gas masks and flight goggles, the three of us jumped into the ricer and began the commute home. Rolling down the windows to breathe in the filtered air, we recieved a potpourri of looks from the traffic. The expressions on the peoples' faces was worth the $10.99 alone. But hey, it's not everyday you see some guys who look like they're ready for a nuclear attack.

We are prepared . . . and had fun doing it.