Tail Spin

In the late 1960s, I flew round trip to San Francisco every week day.  I took the first PSA morning flight from Burbank to San Francisco and flew back in the late afternoon.  Every day I enjoyed a fully-paid, 5-hour layover in North Beach.  There was a pickup truck waiting for me when I landed at San Francisco that I would use to make my morning delivery to a downtown bank and proceed to the company yard a block away from Fisherman's Wharf. 

Fred Cook ran the yard and supervised about 40 delivery drivers.  Fred was a big burly guy who could be pretty intimidating.  His claim to fame was having driven an 18 wheeler full of cattle to safety through the worst blizzard in Montana's history.  On my first day as a courier, Fred was waiting for me when I got off the plane.  He showed me where the pickup was and the route I would drive everyday to the bank, through China Town and ending at the yard.

With Fred at the wheel, the ride through rush hour traffic from the airport to the financial district was electrifying.  Fred maintained a detailed commentary on the best short cuts and alternate routes with frequent use of the horn as he carried out endless lane changes and near misses.

His behavior changed dramatically once we left the bank and began to make our way through Chinatown.  He slowed to a crawl and started wrenching his head in every direction with both eyes on full alert.  He was genuinely on edge and warned me, "You've got to watch your ass every second through here.  You can never tell what these crazy bastards are gonna do."

The yard was where drivers gathered every morning to load parcels into their pickups before making deliveries throughout the bay area.  The drivers were at the yard for a brief time at both the beginning and the end of their shift.  The rest of their time was spent alone on the road often in gloomy weather.  The best part of everyone's day was to observe the ongoing bickering between Fred and a driver named Decker. 

Decker was the only person in the yard bigger than Fred and watching the two of them go at it was great theater.  Decker was gay but not outwardly so until he and Fred would start up.  Then Decker would shift into an over-the-top, prissy drag-queen persona and he really knew how to get Fred's goat.  Fred invariably would take the bait and once he realized he'd been had, would counter with a manly-man retort straight out of John Wayne.

Decker:  "Fred, that silly story about you, the cows and the snow - what was the point?"

Fred:  "I'm not having this conversation."

Decker:  "I hate to tell you this sugar, but that was no favor you did for those poor creatures."

Fred:  "I don't recall seeing cattle rancher on your resume."

Decker:  "I didn't have to grow up on the ponderosa to know you were taking them to the slaughterhouse."

Fred:  "Are we headed for that vegetarian shit again."

Decker:  "You'll never be at peace Honey, until you face up to what you did."

Fred:  "Bless me father."

Decker:  "Those cows would have gladly frozen to death rather than getting hit in the head with a sledge hammer."

Fred:  "Jeez, if I'd only known."

Decker:  "You can try to hide behind that mocking tone, but Fred dear, we both know a real man would have driven to Mexico and released them."

Fred:  "Decker, you would have made one hell of a cowboy."

My favorite bit took place with Fred bent down on the floor of the garage sorting through delivery bags.  Decker was standing behind him looking at a good share of Fred's ass protruding above the top of his Levis.  Decker bent down to get a closer look with a large group of drivers taking it all in.  Decker reached over, snapped the elastic top of Fred's exposed underwear and said, "Fred honey, you are too cute for words.  You've got your undies on inside out."  Fred exploded but was drowned out by the guffaws from the drivers.

One day during my 5-hour layover, Hartwig and Charles picked me up at the yard and we went to the zoo.  I had gone to Occidental with Hartwig and he was now teaching high school in Alameda.  Charles was Hartwig's roommate and I was meeting him for the first time.  It soon became apparent that Hartwig had found someone with an even more depressing outlook on life than himself.  Something I would not have thought possible. 

The day was overcast and walking from one caged animal to the next with the negative twosome was brutal.  I was used to Hartwig's sour outlook but was unprepared for Charles.  He was unable to walk ten feet without pointing out evidence that mankind was doomed and our existence was no more than a form of torture.  He made sure we didn't overlook any people that were obese, kids that were obnoxious and rancid odors from the cages and the snack bar.

We came to where the hippos were housed.  There were two of them.  One was on the grass and the other was in the pool, both asleep.  Charles finally shut up and we stood without speaking at the waist-high fence looking across the deep gully separating us from the hippo's enclosure.  The mere fact that we were standing there for several minutes drew a few people to join us.  I can only guess it was to find out what the hell was so interesting. The addition of these people became a signal for others, and the number of onlookers continued to grow.  The three of us never said a word and just looked straight ahead.  Not one person asked us, or any of the others assembled what was going on.  There was complete silence.

Two or three minutes passed and people began to tire of watching the hippos sleep.  Then the crowd began to peel away from the fence and slowly move off to the next enclosure.  I decided at that moment to make my special noise.  When we were kids Carey had his ear splitting whistle sound he made with words starting with S.  My sound was quite loud and shrill but came out in a short burst like a monkey's shriek.  It did not sound at all as though it was a sound made by a human. 

I let go with a terrific blast, and the majority of the group that had abandoned the hippos figured what ever we were waiting for was finally happening, and came hustling back to join us at the fence.  The sight of all these people rushing to the hippo enclosure drew even more people.  The three of us had never moved a muscle and continued looking straight ahead.  Since no one had any idea of what was going on the silence continued.

Then the hippo in the pool woke up and slowly made his way up onto solid ground where he did a 180 and came to a stop with his rear end ten feet from the fence.  Finally the crowd had something to focus on.  The hippo's absurd looking stub of a tail was located directly above its anus and it began to spin like a propeller. 

When hippos defecate they spin their tail to spread their muck over a surprisingly large area to mark their territory.  Hippos also down as much as 150 pounds of grass a day so despite the fact that their release takes only one of two seconds, a significant amount of material is dispersed with startling force. 

A cloud of shit rained down on the stunned gathering.  No one had been able to react in time to sprint off to safety.  Everyone just stood motionless until they realized that it wasn't a bad dream - it had actually happened.  In pairs and small groups, people started to wander slowly away while they removed the goodies from their clothes and hair. 

Thirty seconds later, Hartwig, Charles and I were once again alone staring into the Hippo enclosure.  We were just as surprised by the hippo's performance as everybody else but we never budged.  We stayed for a minute or two and then finally started walking away.  After we'd gone a ways down the path I looked over at Charles.  He had a huge smile on his face and I think it was maybe the only time I ever saw him truly happy.