This week actually wasn't the best week ever... That's where the irony kicks in, ya dig?
So with that disclaimer out there, you shouldn't read any further into this post with a serious mindset. The claptrap I encountered this week was just too good not to share.
I suppose it all started about 25 miles outside of the fair city of Charlotte, along a small country road. In a single wide trailer surrounded by caution tape... my best week ever began to take shape.
Now believe you me, I've been to my fair share of meth labs, but never... ever... ever, ever, ever, ever in a million years did I expect to be pulled away from babysitting a city bus stop to then being sent to the home of RANDY TRAVIS' BROTHER.
That's right! While the elder brother, real name Randy Traywick, is battling only God knows what, his little brother David Traywick is busy playing
Breaking Bad: The Home Edition in some little shanty on the outskirts of Union Co.
And from the looks of the place, ol' Randy hasn't been too keen on sharing the wealth. Maybe the lack of relationship is what has lead David to the cruel mistress know as methamphetamine? Who knows?! But I'm told that about 6 months ago he did set himself on fire whilst destroying some refuse of a spent meth lab. Top THAT.
While it was indeed the highlight of my best week ever, the above incident was not the only one. Later the same day I would be encircled by a large group of bums while filling up my news vehicle who wanted to know "the scoop on the Trayvon Martin case." Now, I'm a news man, but you couldn't pay me enough to comment on that topic with the company that welcomed me to pump #7 at the North Tryon St 7Eleven. I know better.
My best week ever got even better when my reporter and I were assigned to a story concerning gangs. Usually there's no video, and no sound, and honestly... there wasn't. BUT!!! We did make our way through the seedy ghettos of Stanly County and met multiple rehabilitated residents who claimed to "know of" a gang, or who had "maybe seen a gang". One guy even claimed to be "half and half", stating he was half Blood and half Crip. I'm not sure how that works but clearly the Devil & God are raging inside this poor kid. Let's all remember him in our prayers tonight.
(No, seriously... If you're the praying type, which I am, then do it. If not, then don't. Either way it couldn't hurt... right?) We wrapped our day with the story on gangs, shortly after meeting a young man who had melted every incisor in his mouth, presumably by smoking some form of narcotic from a light bulb, and who was shaking uncontrollably. He had to bail on our interview because he needed to fetch his "medicine".
My best week ever ended with visiting a couple of sink holes, before being sent up in the helicopter to shoot a dead body that had been found on the train tracks of a small Gaston County town, ala
Stand By Me. I then landed in Charlotte and was sent via live truck to the exact spot I'd been hovering 1300 ft over just an hour before. It was a sad story, the teenager had been struck by a train and killed. The kicker is this: the kid was 100% deaf in one ear, only had 30% hearing in the other, and he was wearing ear buds and listening to music when the train hit him. At the risk of sounding cold and contrite, you can't make this stuff up.
And honestly, these are the things you can expect when you tell the world what happens while they're at work. Buy the ticket, take the ride. Put in your work day and when the work is done, call it quits and take it to the shed. It doesn't have to follow you home, it only happens to do so if you let it.
BEST. WEEK. EVER. (not)
