Oh, right... that... - by Gingerbread Man
Gingerbread Man on 24/7/2011 at 00:30
As many of you know, I grew up on an island connected by an isthmus to another, teardrop-shaped island. The island ("my" end of it) was pretty big, and there were a few cities which could boast populations in excess of ten thousand. There was a volcano and a few big lakes, and I lived on the shores of one of them.
I used to ride the "bus" into town to buy clothes or go to the cinema (it had FOUR shows a day!) but for groceries and whatnot I could find various little merchants in either of the two perpetual markets. Both these markets had the same merchants selling the same wares in the same spot for so long that they had eventually built walls between the stalls. Of course, this was great for the customer, because it increased the available display area immensely. Even if they didn't sell something that could be displayed on a wall, the clever merchants would figure something out. I remember an old couple who sold ice cream and frozen juice drinks - not really amenable to hanging on a wall - who had decorated the walls of their area with paintings of the various treats they offered on hot afternoons.
But I didn't start a thread to prattle on about the local merchants and their ingenuity. What I WANTED to say was that my next door neighbor was a chill-as-fuck Jamaican with a 1977 Ford Thunderbird. What a great car.
Gingerbread Man on 24/7/2011 at 01:45
Since you asked so nicely...
His name was pronounced sort of like Tony, and he may not have been Jamaican. I thought there were two kinds of black people in the world: the darker skinned ones came from Africa and the lighter skinned ones came from Jamaica. I only assumed he was Jamaican because he had skin like Lionel Richie and not like Walter Orange. Who was clearly an African, you see.
My point is that, in retrospect, I probably made many such mistakes and the man's name, which I understood to be Tony was actually one of those languages with all the clicks and spitting and sucking of teeth.
And he taught me about Soul Music and Funk and Reggae. And we ate potato chip sandwiches while we waited for his wife to come home. It was usually my dinner time by that point, too. I said hello and goodbye to Auntie Sonia and climbed back over the chain link fence, cross the dead cement no-man's land that connected the Court with the School, and hop the chain link which separated my own family's home from the dead zone.
Also his wife knew the Lord Jesus Christ personally.
Aerothorn on 24/7/2011 at 02:02
Either this is a parody of theBlackman or I'm totally missing the joke.
june gloom on 24/7/2011 at 02:03
It's obvious, isn't it?
Gingerbread Man on 24/7/2011 at 02:20
No joke, no parody. "Tony" went back to "Jamaica" eventually - long before I left the shores for the valleys, but I hadn't kept in touch since we took up more prestigious dwelling atop the ravine. The last time I saw Auntie Sonia was at a funeral two Januaries ago, but that was the first time since 198something.
The problem with the new house, or rather MY problem with it, was that I didn't know where it was. And I was in another country when everyone took our stuff and put it in the new house. By the time I landed at the little airfield named for some great-ancestor of my father's a new family had already moved in, beasts, children, automobiles and all!
I had known that this would be the case before I left to wander the ancient ruins of a long-dead civilization, but I had also never been part of locating and selecting the new place. So, basically, I'm kinda hoping someone comes to meet me at this point, because I don't even know where to go.
But I was talking about Tony's car...
Gingerbread Man on 24/7/2011 at 02:53
Actually, now that I think about it, there is a very easy way to put the exact image of Tony's Thunderbird in your minds: Dolemite. Straight up Dolemite. He had a nickel plated four-four single action in the glove box and a Solid Gold eight-track jammed deep. If he had been one of those guys from the isthmus that bird would have bounced, you feel I?
Leopard skin steering wheel cover, big shiny hubcaps, and the headlights flipped open like eyes! I'd sit in the back seat and read pornography magazines while we went to see various people Tony knew. Sometimes I'd just wait in the car, but sometimes I got to go with him and meet his friends.
I remember a lady called Yvonne who would always come over to talk to us when we drove past. She was always dressed up pretty fancy because she sold beauty to people who wanted to buy some more. I also remember an old man named Orris who had white hair like a sheep and had been shot in the leg in a war. His fake leg looked pretty fake, boy I'll tell you what.
Gingerbread Man on 24/7/2011 at 03:26
I think Orris was from the South, and I never did understand much of what he said. His voice thick and raspy from years of being around the smell of that blue stuff combs go in to recharge had left him with the precise amount of noise-to-signal to make a Southern Accent sound utterly unintelligible, just like in movies I had seen. Tony understood him just fine and once in a while Orris would say "Tebba HA inna RANsakka my beddamaf polin ain't that right? ha HA hahaha!" and Tony would lean over and say "Imma sane Kwan in allin hoo Ron hea, man gwin duppy dutty im say." And Orris would laugh again and I'd watch in the mirror as Tony's Afro never got smaller at all. Ever.
henke on 24/7/2011 at 21:04
gbm write more words plz
Gingerbread Man on 24/7/2011 at 21:17
wait I have to see a film about a hogwatrs and then I will eat a chimichanga and then I will come back to tell you more about all of this, I promise
ps I have never had a chimichanga before and starrfall is all excited because she knows I'm going to love them!
