billdo

The man from the next building who pesters my ex drug addict, ex con neighbors for trite things such as cigarettes and beer and more cigarettes, all one at a time, maybe 5 times throughout the day, and exchanges acoustic guitar songs for BBQ and eats more than anyone, has been asked to find somewhere else to live.


"I have a potty mouth", he says. "Nothing racial or having to do with one's sexuality".


He looks at me and explains, no doubt becuz I am black, that we all share the same colored blood...cut each of us and we all bleed red bla bla bla bla bla.....you know, the standard white overcompensation for having been part and parcell to racial hatred, or the requisite apology for being white and superior and handing out inclusiveness like oranges to slaves. I digress.


He says he just says things, not quite torrets syndrome, but rather a manner of speaking. He'll call you a motherfucker as a term of endearment. He'll call you an asshole like calling a cute kid stinky. He once called a lady sweet pussyhole becuz she offered him a danish. He was thankful to the point of being profuse. He thought he had connected.


So yesterday someone in his building had a visitor named Bill. Our man was introduced to Bill, and later, upon seeing Bill in the courtyard, he blurted out..."Hey Billdo". The man was confused and felt put upon.


Now since our man is not a tennant there and is staying with a friend, he was asked to leave by the building manager. He had been warned several times to curb the way he talked to people. He had also been warned about running around shirtless and leaving peanut shells on the manicured lawn, as well as beer bottles. He had also been asked to move a chair he set in front of the buliding so he could greet anyone with a Led Zepplin tune who passed by or came to visit a tennant.


Come this weekend, our block will be one less heavy. This is sad.I kinda liked the guy. He was genuine...genuinely flawed in several egregious ways, but genuine nonetheless.


The 70 and 80's have passed. The world doesn't reach across the gulf of our lives anymore. The metal bands are gone into middle class memory and responsibility. And the cats who are left standing sing loudly, waiting to be destroyed.Here's to those guys who made the future by chance, not by choice.

One last "Rock On!" Romus Simpson