LimeLight

[very mild cussing] We sat in a pub, not realizing it was open mic night. I already had three drinks, Macallan 18 on the rocks. My go-to because I liked the taste and knew I was not driving tonight. None of us were. We will call rideshare, most likely Lyft because I have credits!

My three friends hammered at me to get onstage and make people laugh. That’s why I had three drinks, and Russ ordered the fourth. Don and Rick, well, they saw what Russ was doing and, being smaller bits of asses themselves, joined in. After that fourth, I was ready. I went to the registrator, that’s exactly what the sign said, and told her I wanted to give it a go. It was my first time, and how long did I have, and registrator?

Her reply made me laugh. They ran out of space for the I-O-N and squeezed in O-R.

About ten minutes later, they called my name. I was the second person on the stage. I had ten minutes. The first guy tried a Don Rickles approach and barely got a grin.

“OK,” She said, “I am calling for Chris Cancilla to come up and PLEASE make us laugh.”

Somehow, I managed to stand and walk to the stage. Her name was Maria, and I hugged her and took the mic.

Before I said a word, I got booed. I started laughing. The room got pin-drop quiet, and I asked a question.

“Who here has lived in another country?”

“OK, about half of you. Great, how about Iceland?”

“Nice, a single hand. When?”

The lady replied mid-1980s.

I asked her, “Navy or Air Force?”

“Air Force,” she replied.

“I was in the Air Force, in Iceland, from 1985 to 1987.

“August 3, 1986, to 1987,” she added quickly, “F-15 Maintenance.”

“We were on the same rotator heading home. But you remind me of a story. When I was stationed at Keflavik, Iceland, we had a few hangers when maintenance needed to be accomplished on the F-15 aircraft. Well, the fire safety system in one of the hangers was upgraded. This was the first of many upgrades, and the Icelandic Fire Marshall wanted to be there when the system went online.”

The woman started laughing out loud; she was there.

I continued, “After all, it was his country; by that respect, it was his base. Well, he was a smoker, a heavy smoker, and ignored the no-smoking signs on the door. They were in a multitude of languages, and yes, Icelandic was one of them. Reykingar Bannaðar. No Smoking in Icelandic. Larger than the rest and equal to English.”

Several in the audience had an idea where this was going.

“As a matter of fact, since it was his base, he could smoke wherever and whenever he wanted. The group of top brass and a few lucky NCOs were there to witness the activation of the system; which was a fantastic upgrade to the fire suppression system. You see, this system is automated. Once it is turned on, the area inside the hanger will be monitored for heat sources—any heat source like a cigarette or a lighter. Once the heat is located above a certain level, the various devices work together to shoot a stream of foam at the heat source until the heat source has been neutralized.”

I looked at the woman, and she was nodding. She had the biggest grin on her face.

“The hangar was quiet, and the chief activated the system. Gizmos and gadgets whirred and tweeted. Movement could be seen in all eight foam guns mounted near the ceiling in the corners of the hangar and in between on the long wall one-third distance between the two corners. After a few moments, the system engaged in a neutral configuration. This means it stopped, got silent, and did nothing.”

The base commander looked at the chief and asked, “Is that it?”

“The chief walked to the center of the hanger and pulled a Zippo lighter from his pocket. He lit the lighter and held it up. Instantly, all eight guns faced in the direction of the flame, and a soft but high-pitched beep could be heard. The chief walked a few steps, and the guns tracked him. He closed the lighter and put it away, and the system reset itself to neutral once again.”

I sipped on a water glass.

“The commander was impressed and astonished that we were not covered in foam. The chief explained to everyone that the system was activated but not armed. This meant that the foam lines were not charged as of yet until after this test was accomplished. Just before lunch, the chief and his installation crew would arm the system.”

I walked over to the woman, “My new friend here can corroborate, as with most days in Iceland, the weather was not cooperating, and it began to rain quite hard.”

She gave two thumbs up and nodded emphatically.

“The group attending the demo applauded, and everyone returned to their respective duties. The Fire Marshall and his guests were escorted to the dining hall and were served a nice lunch, as were all Air Force people who ate lunch that day. I attended the lunch and ate fast. I wanted to be certain the place was cleaned well. After lunch, the fire marshal needed to sign off on the system so the installation team could begin working on the next hanger. The weather turned nasty, and the Fire Marshall ran from the dining hall to the hangar, maybe 150 feet. He did not have time for a cigarette during the walk. Did I mention that he ignored the “Do Not Smoke” signs? The signs were also written in Icelandic. Well, he walked across the hangar while lighting his cigarette. Standing in the dead center of the hangar floor, he immediately realized he had made a big mistake. A high-pitched beep could be heard, and the Fire Marshall dropped the cigarette and ran to the door as fast as he could, barely escaping as the cigarette he dropped was lying in the center of the floor being extinguished by eight aircraft fire suppressant emitters that emitted foam to a depth of four feet deep over 100 percent of the hanger floor.”

At that thought, the crowd laughed.

“Needless to say, I was putting things away on the catwalk. If I had a video camera, I could have been rich. The system was approved by the Fire Marshal and recharged by the install team. The security video of this event was mysteriously misplaced shortly after being viewed by most of the Icelandic Defense Force.”

The woman stood, adding, “The Icelandic government paid to recharge the system. I was on the suppressor install team. I was also on a catwalk and laughed my ass off as well.”

It took a minute, but it got quiet again. Russ yelled, “Tell them about the first time you went surf fishing!”

I nodded and let out a laugh.

“Any fishermen or women in here tonight?”

A lot of hands went up.

“OK, I was with a troop, and they were heading to the coast of North Carolina to camp for a long weekend and do some surfing or beach fishing. I have no clue about the subject, so I went to a store and picked up the affordable gear and asked for tips or instructions, and the guy who sold me the gear showed me how.”

I shook my head and rubbed my forehead.

“OK, finally, January, and we are at the Outer Banks. The weather is perfect. Clear and sunny, windy but about 55 degrees; the wind chill is about 40 degrees. Another Scouter, an adult Scout Leader, helped me set up my rig with a steel leader, a two-hook system, and fish heads on each hook. Of course, as a Dr. Demento fan, I naturally started singing ‘Fish Heads, Fish Heads, Roly Poly Fish Heads,’ and he gave me a look. Then he did something interesting: he put three of the boat’s anchor weights on the line. They weighed 8 ounces each. For the mathematically challenged, that’s a LOT! Three upside-down pyramid-shaped lead weights. More than a pound of lead. Then I got the ‘instruction’….”

“Grab the rod like this, with your right hand near the reel and your left hand at the bottom. Flip the lever over and hold the line tight with your index finger. Take a few steps toward the water and flip it out hard. At the right moment, let go of the line you are holding under your index finger and let it fly.”

“He demonstrated with his rod. It went a long way out there and plopped into a small wave on its way to the shore. Looked easy….It sounded easy, so I gave it a go."

“I flipped the little bar, held the line with my finger, took a few steps to the water, and flipped that bad boy out as hard as I could, letting go JUST at the right moment.”

“The line started feeding out and thud. I almost got it all the way to the water, but not quite. I buried the weights in the wet sand and had to pull them up with my hand. It was that stuck!”

“I paused momentarily to let the laughter subside. I rehearsed a few more times and finally figured it out. People, mainly the Scouts there with us, were laughing…. no, not laughing; they were ROLLING on the sand, holding their stomachs. Finally, I managed to get to the water and far out there. Now what? I asked my fishing Mentor.”

“He looked at me seriously and said, You wait for the rod to dip. That’s when I was able to use that pointy PVC pipe. You shove it into the sand and put the rod into it so you don’t need to hold it. Just look at it….at look…..and look…..and, did I mention that you look at it?”

A little more laughing, and I loved it, “So, after my mentor, my master, woke me up to tell me I had a fish on my line, I jumped up, grabbed my rod, and yanked it to ‘set the hook.’

I ACTUALLY HAD SOMETHING!!!”

“I reeled it in, and FINALLY, I could see it. I think it was something out of the old Aquaman Cartoon. No, not Tusky the Walrus. I had no idea what it was; I could only stare at it. There was no way in the Seven Seas I was going to touch it; someone came over and told me it was a skate, a winter skate. It made sense to me. It was winter, after all. Looks like a small ray of some kind. I put on my gloves, grabbed my pliers, removed the hook, and tossed it back into the water. I reset my line and tossed it back. This time, I did really well, with one exception. A seagull swooped down, and as my weights hit the water, the bird scooped up the fish head in its mouth. Yep, I caught a bird surf fishing on the coast of North Carolina.”

I had to reel it in, and that must have looked silly. EVERYONE was gathered around me as I fought with that damn bird so I could save its life. I managed to get it in, and a woman grabbed it and held it tight. We removed the hook, and before she could let it go, it pecked her boob. She yelled, That damn bird tweeked me! The comedy fishing routine was over. I was done. I let the scouts use my gear and headed to the campsite, defeated, hungry, and thirsty.”

The applause was tremendous. People stood, and Maria came to the stage. “Ladies and Gentlemen, let’s hear it for my fishing instructor, Russ. Russ stood and waved. I handed her the mic. That is my only venture into the open mic night at ANY bar!

On a high note, the bartender brought me a Coke with cherry juice and a double shot of my favorite scotch as a prize. I HAD A BLAST!