Bitten by the Crazy Bug

Happy hour*.  Friday after work hanging out with the chemistry posse.  Some of the regulars, plus a couple of summer grad students from out of the area…  The conversation turned to parties past, including one completely off the chain rather spectacular event at chez daisyfae – with about 120 folks passing through the premises during the evening.

It was a farewell party for RK, a notoriously goofy and very fun young scientist.  Not content with regular picnic fare, he arranged to have an entire roasted pig delivered – carried in on a litter by Barbecue Delivery Technicians.  But it wasn’t the pig everyone remembered.  Along with RK came his good friend, Crazy Jimmy. 

Of course, as we’re telling the tales of the party, and mention Crazy Jimmy, the newbies had to ask how the guy got the name.  i mean, if you’re going to have a descriptive adjective permanently attached to your given name, “Crazy” is one that was most certainly earned. They don’t just hand those out for $1.99 at the WalMarts.  The stories of Crazy Jimmy ensued…

During RK’s party, Crazy Jimmy carried around a plastic tub of dog treats – Mr. Pickles’ bacon jerky meat sticks, to be precise.  Not only eating them, he politely offered to share them with the guests.  Mr. Pickles was not entirely amused.  At a subsequent party, while in a conversation with one of my son’s friends, Crazy Jimmy felt compelled to reach out and grab his junk.  Not just a quick squeeze, but holding on – maintaining his grip until my son’s friend punched him squarely in the head. 

After sitting silently through the stories, my favorite NASCAR PhD** topped them all.  “Crazy Jimmy bit my wife”.  Sitting next to her in a bar, engaged in polite conversation, Crazy Jimmy unexpectedly leaned over and bit her on the shoulder.  One of the grad students asked “Did she get a rabies shot?”  “Nah.  Didn’t break the skin.  Freaked her out, though…”

Lessons?  Who the hell knows.  All i know is that my first CD, should i ever get around to recording one, shall be titled “Crazy Jimmy Bit My Wife”…


* Gee whiz… it sure seems like i’m always hanging out in bars, doesn’t it?  Ummm…. right….

** No, he didn’t get his doctoral degree in the art of driving fast while going in a circle.  He’s just one of those rare humans who never lost touch with who he is as he climbed the scientific ladder.  Guy is fucking brilliant as a scientist, is a great coach and mentor, and one of the ballsiest managers i’ve worked with in my career.  With NO PRETENSE.  He drinks Pabst Blue Ribbon, $1/can, on Thursday nights at the biker bar…