I was usually riding one of three motor cycles I owned, to the bowling alley disco. On bad weather days I would use my Uncle Art's 1966 Ford pickup truck. He had to go to a nursing home. He was Dad's older brother and had worked with Dad all those years on the farm. Dad was his advocate as Art had no wife or kids. The farm was rented out now so Art's truck which was used around the farm was freed up. It was late 1980 and Art had still kept the plastic seat cover on the bench seat. He had bought the cover the day the truck was new. 

   Even with all the vehicles at my disposal, the 40 mile drive to Lake Geneva from the farm was taking its toll. I found a room in a three story menagerie along the lake called the Victorian. I paid $27.50 a week for the attic room. I had to be careful when I sat up in bed or I would hit my head on the angled attic ceiling. The strange girl that ran the place diligently cleaned my room each morning. She always gave me a Fifty Cent Piece for change for the rent. The view of Lake Geneva was stunning. There was a strange couple in the attic room next to my room. Sometimes they banged their heads on the A-frame roof when they made out. There should have been a better way. 

   One night after work the bar staff got the wild idea they all wanted a ride on my motor cycle. At 3:30 a.m. in the morning they all took turns riding around the parking lot which circled the whole building. Up above the bowling alley on the hill sat an apartment geared for retirees. At around 4:00 a.m. one of the cops that often responded to fights at the disco pulled up, looked out his window, and laughed out loud. "We got a call from up on the hill, that a motorcycle gang was attacking the bowling alley," he said as he shook his head. "Have a nice ride," he said smiling, and vanished into the night. 

   One evening, I stepped outside to take a break before the big crowd arrived. It was still daylight. The cops followed a van into the parking lot from the main highway. The Interstate-like highway was just up the street. The guy ducked into our lot to try and melt into the sea of cars. The cops were on to him. I don't know what he did, but their was my cop again. After some discussion another cop pulled up and then another. The perp was handcuffed and ushered into the back seat of a cop car. I heard him say as he vanished into the car, "Hey, you assholes. You didn't read me my righ.........ts....ah...ouch.....hey......oh...ah."

   You can't claim to have been a bouncer if you never broke up a cat-fight. Two chicks duking it out. One night two pretty girls got into it. Mike, a young bouncer who was studying to be a police officer held the door as I and another bouncer carried each girl out. Everybody liked young Mike - he was handsome and smart. The other bouncer was older and also named Mike and was the antithesis of young Mike. Old Mike loved to be cynical, and like myself, he was aged and rough around the edges. Old Mike's people came from Lithuania and fought the Russians. My people came from Ireland and fought the British. We were cast to be bouncers in some bar, from the womb. Anyway, Old Mike got his girl up and out. My girl however lambasted young Mike in the eye as I carried her out the door. Poor young Mike had a good black eye for a week. 

   The bar scene did not pay the bills. It was fun, it was a distraction for a guy like me who had been worn down by the Army and shitty jobs. But, I would have to find something that paid better. It was at this point in my life that I would embark on a work strategy that would haunt me off and on to this day. One - I would return to a place and/or job I had previously quit. Two - I would work two jobs at once. After two years away, it would be the return into my life of the odious yellow school buses.

   This week's Wisconsin soldier to remember is 24-year-old U.S. Marine Corporal Brian R. Prening. Corporal Prening who is from Plymouth, died while engaging the enemy in Babil Province, Iraq, on November 12, 2004. Prening was assigned to Company F, 2nd Battalion, 24th Marine Regiment, 4th Marine Division, Marine Forces Reserve. The unit is from Chicago. The Milwaukee Journal Sentinel said Brian is a graduate of Plymouth High School. He had gotten married on August 13, 2004, and he and wife Amy were expecting their first child. CNN.com lists the Prenings as from Sheboygan. The Journal Sentinel also mentioned Brian went to Lakeshore Technical College in Cleveland, Wisconsin where he got a degree completing the tool-and-die program. Brian worked at Kohler Company. His Marine Reserve unit was activated. Corporal Prening was the 27th soldier from Wisconsin killed in the fighting in Iraq. Brian is survived by a twin brother, Bill, a younger sister, Ann, 21, wife Amy, a step son, and mother and father Brian and Deborah Prening.

   3,822 Americans have been killed in Iraq since Spring 2003.

   28,171 U.S. troops have been wounded in action in Iraq since Spring 2003.

   81 Wisconsin soldiers have been killed in Iraq since Spring 2003.

   115 journalists (several nationalities) have been killed in Iraq since Spring 2003.

Soldier of the week, military casualty, and journalist casualty information sources: Committee to Protect Journalists; cnn.com; and, Milwaukee Journal Sentinel.