wandering hillbilly

life of buddy don, chaptur 3:
tis better lucky than good

lookin back, i kin see how the sitchuwayshun wuz grim, but at the time, i wuz still a'thankin i cud do innythang. fack is, oncet my hart settled down, i got to countin my blessins, witch that wuz sumthin my mama tawt me to do. 'whenever yer down, ye need to count yer blessins.' she'd also say, when thangs lookt impossble, 'god wont put more on ye than ye kin carry.'

so i tuck to makin a list of blessins, startin with bein alive: 1 - bein alive. 2 - breethin thru both nostrils. 3 - dint git stabbed. 4 - dint starv.  5 - aint had a bath in three daze but my face n hands is cleen. 6 - got $2.20 ($8.35 from claude minus 95 cent fer cat's cradle minus 35 cent fer the black ladys bill minus $1.25 fer the 2 chili dawg with frys n rc cola speshul minus 95 cent fer stranger in a strange land minus 50 cent fer the coffee n donut speshul n amarillo minus 10 cent fer albukerkee jurnl minus 85 cent fer the brakfus speshul in holbrook airazona minus 95 cent fer do androids dream of electric sheep?).  7 - beerds cumin in black n thick. 8 - had a good meal in needles bought n blesst by a christchun revernd name of ben, witch he wuz a christchun but he wuz afraid to ride in a airplane. 9 - had a good dump in barsto. fack is, ye might cud say, thangs wuz grate.

but then some kinda way, i fell sleep n next thang ye no its this big ole po-leecemun a'tellin me 'move on' n 'you can't sleep here.' in ackshul fack, i cud sleep thar n i wuz a proovin it by doin it, but he mint i wudnt be a loud to sleep thar.

so tard tho i wuz, i got up n stretcht n sat back down till he tole me that thay wuz no loitern loud inside the bus stayshun. ye kin probly magine i dint wont to go back outside after whut had dun happent to me, so i got up n started moovin jes as slow as i cud n wunderin shood i git my nife out or wud thay allow such thangs n figgert probly not.

twuz a temptayshun then to start countin my justafide greevances. in sted, i memberd sumthin else my mama used to say, witch wuz 'ye kin look fer the good in folks, n ye kin look fer the bad, n whutever ye look fer, yer gone fine, so look out fer the good n mayhap ye wont have time to fine the bad.' that one lil bit of add vice has dun stood the test of time, as my daddy wud say bout innythang that wuz old n still any count. so i lookt fer sum good in that thar po-leecemun n figgered thay wuz noted fer givin direckshuns so i askt him did he no whar a man cud get a place to sleep fer $2.2o or less, witch i musta hit his bad side sumway since he commenced a'laffin n sayin thangs bout ignernt hillbilly n walkin away.

long bout then, i larnt whut my daddy had been a'tellin me overn over agin my hole life long even tho it seemt lack i cudnt git whut it mint, witch wuz he wud say 'tis better lucky than good.' he natcherly sed it a lot whenever tennessee wuz a'playin ginst alabama on the radeeo n the rong teem wuz a winnin, n i never cud git whut he wuz sayin since lack it er not alabama wuz jes genrally bettern tennessee in them daze (thangs has improovd).

how i finely larnt whut he mint happnt this away. i wuz a fixin to hed back out into the dark n bathless folk (i had my nife reddy to pull jes in case) n whut, or that is, who did i see but mr. joe bob tanner frum back home, witch he wuz a member of the same church we wuz, n whenever he spotted me he hollerd out, 'that yew buddy don?' n i tole him 'yessir, tis i' n he commenced to askin bout folk frum back home n how thay wuz n whuther tennessee had much of a teem this year. i noo most of the antsers n that led to talkin bout why we wuz both thar, witch turnt out he'd moved to californy his own self long with his wife n seven dawters a lookin fer wurk n a better life n tho he had lots of thangs, seemt kindly lack he wuz still homesick fer the hills whar truth is thay aint much of innythang but cole n mud n hard livin.

bein a christchun man he dint press too hard to no why i wuz thar, witch twuz probly obvius that id dun run away. he figgered sum kinda way that i wuz hungry n wonted a bath n wonted to sleep in a bed so he tuck me home n stopt along the way to by me a stake dinner with all the trimmins includin a bakt tater with sour creem, witch twuz the furst time i ever had that. then he drove me to his home in a place thay calls 'see me valley' n on the way i hurd myself a'sayin i shure wuz lucky ye cum along whenever ye did' n i splaint bout the sitchuwayshun round that thar lost angels bus stayshun with the bathless folk n all.

he lafft in a nice way n we talkt bout how god wont overload ye n all, but even so, i repeeted whut id sed bout bein lucky he cum along.

he grinnt n sed, soundin jes lack my daddy, 'tis better lucky than good.'

finely, then, i got whut it mint.