Hookers or Cake

Where the self-obsessed get serious about silly
I'm too wacky to be hip.

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      ------------------------------------ There was a large painting of Evel Knievel shaking hands with Richard Nixon. It hung in the Mayors office. Late one evening after everyone went home. I took it down to the lab. I zoomed in on Evel’s left eye a 100x and enhanced it. It was an address. I went to the address. It was a modest, 1970’s style, split level ranch home in the suburbs.

      ----------------------------------- Inside I found a dead parrot lying on a waterbed. I revived the parrot with some saltines and adrenaline. We became good friends. The parrots name was Randy. One night a few years later while Randy and me played Gin Rummy, he sang me a song about a fire. The title of this blog was never mentioned but I sensed it, and Randy confirmed it by giving me ‘THE LOOK’.

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          • November 13, 2012 11:23 pm
            I had been in Italy for a couple months. Nothing too glamorous, just working in a shipyard somewhere west of Venice. Once I got back in the U.S., I found out that Old Dirty Bastard had died. I immediately phoned my best friend. Me: “Dude! ODB died? F: “Yeah… you didn’t know? Me: Dude I was out of town! Why didn’t you call me? F: Oh I dunno, I figured you woulda heard. Me: Like some Italian is gonna run up to me in the street and say? ‘Scuse! Sir! Americano? I so sorry for you loss… the… Aged Dirty Bastard… he isa dead!”

            I had been in Italy for a couple months. Nothing too glamorous, just working in a shipyard somewhere west of Venice. Once I got back in the U.S., I found out that Old Dirty Bastard had died. I immediately phoned my best friend.

            Me: “Dude! ODB died?

            F: “Yeah… you didn’t know?

            Me: Dude I was out of town! Why didn’t you call me?

            F: Oh I dunno, I figured you woulda heard.

            Me: Like some Italian is gonna run up to me in the street and say? ‘Scuse! Sir! Americano? I so sorry for you loss… the… Aged Dirty Bastard… he isa dead!”

            65 notes Filed under:  prose, lit, odb, We miss you ODB, 1968-2004, November 13,.
          by Peter Vidani. For .
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