.45 and a Pump Shotgun
BNormal, Illinois
May 1, 2020
I met a cool guy named Caesar at the bus stop, and he told me about his workouts and other activity. I have been talking with a bunch of black people who have moved from Chicago to Bloomington, and that’s what this guy did: He said he moved here because he was afraid for his kids getting harmed in the neighborhood where they lived. He had a .45 and a pump shotgun for security from the gang activity a block away, and he was a peaceful man except when it came to his kids – then he was a warrior! What a cool guy! He said he’s not a real big weight lifter so much as he uses weights as part of his workout, and he also walks everywhere and rides his bike and sometimes the bus. I asked how old he was, and he said, “I will be 70 in November, the Lord willing!” I asked if he was disabled in any way and he said no, but he *has* smoked since he was thirteen. I thought about saying, “Well, you oughta quit right now,” but I said, “Well, you’re not dead yet,” and we both laughed. I figure I’m not going to convince anyone to drop a longtime habit, but as I walked home (it turned out the next bus was his but not mine), I said, “Well, that guy was doing O.K., but he really should stop smoking right now if he wants to live to 70.”
Back a mess a months ago, I met another guy at the bus stop, and I says to him, "Where are you from?" He says, "Oh, over by Peoria." "And what was you doing over there?" says I. "I was staying at a real classy place at the invitation of the State," says he.
"Oh," says I. "In the pen?" "Yes, that is right. Then I come down here and I was at the Mission for a while, but I just got in at Phoenix Towers." "Hm, that is all right. So what are you doing now?" "I am tryin' to keep my nose clean," says he. "All right, then," says I. "Good luck!"
Then there was another cat I met down in the laundry room the other day. "Hello, he says, I'm Jerry. I just moved in." "Oh, you must be my new neighbor," says I. "Yes," he says, "Room 402." "Yes," I says, I am in Room 401, right next to you," and so begins another day in Paradise because we is all down here away from Chicago, where everyone goes around armed with a .45 and a pump shotgun just to stay alive.
All in all, it's good to be alive: https://youtu.be/dGPCBREwPg8
May 1, 2020
I met a cool guy named Caesar at the bus stop, and he told me about his workouts and other activity. I have been talking with a bunch of black people who have moved from Chicago to Bloomington, and that’s what this guy did: He said he moved here because he was afraid for his kids getting harmed in the neighborhood where they lived. He had a .45 and a pump shotgun for security from the gang activity a block away, and he was a peaceful man except when it came to his kids – then he was a warrior! What a cool guy! He said he’s not a real big weight lifter so much as he uses weights as part of his workout, and he also walks everywhere and rides his bike and sometimes the bus. I asked how old he was, and he said, “I will be 70 in November, the Lord willing!” I asked if he was disabled in any way and he said no, but he *has* smoked since he was thirteen. I thought about saying, “Well, you oughta quit right now,” but I said, “Well, you’re not dead yet,” and we both laughed. I figure I’m not going to convince anyone to drop a longtime habit, but as I walked home (it turned out the next bus was his but not mine), I said, “Well, that guy was doing O.K., but he really should stop smoking right now if he wants to live to 70.”
Back a mess a months ago, I met another guy at the bus stop, and I says to him, "Where are you from?" He says, "Oh, over by Peoria." "And what was you doing over there?" says I. "I was staying at a real classy place at the invitation of the State," says he.
"Oh," says I. "In the pen?" "Yes, that is right. Then I come down here and I was at the Mission for a while, but I just got in at Phoenix Towers." "Hm, that is all right. So what are you doing now?" "I am tryin' to keep my nose clean," says he. "All right, then," says I. "Good luck!"
Then there was another cat I met down in the laundry room the other day. "Hello, he says, I'm Jerry. I just moved in." "Oh, you must be my new neighbor," says I. "Yes," he says, "Room 402." "Yes," I says, I am in Room 401, right next to you," and so begins another day in Paradise because we is all down here away from Chicago, where everyone goes around armed with a .45 and a pump shotgun just to stay alive.
All in all, it's good to be alive: https://youtu.be/dGPCBREwPg8
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