Monday, July 07, 2003

life of buddy don, chaptur 11:

dont know ifn ye recollect much bout 1970, witch thats when this wuz all a'goin on, so heres sum reminders.

nixon wuz in the why tows n nobidy new how he wood turn out n seem lack he wuz up on thangs. he wuz pushin fer the vote fer folks that wuz 18 on a counta them havin to git draftid n go to veet nam to die. n he had a secret plan fer solvin the war n brangin our boys home. nashnull gard shot four studints daid at kent state on a counta thay dint bleev in the war n wuz marchin agin it n them boys in the gard musta dun panicked. i dont ritely member ifn that wuz part of the secret plan, but i reckon not.

everbidy wuz reedin this book callt love story, tho folks that wuz too lazy to reed it cud see it at the movies. n folks wuz even a'talkin bout the hills on a counta that book callt deliverunts. thay cum out with that movie callt mash, witch im gone tell bout that one direckly. thay wuz a tunin up fer the sexyul revalooshun by showin peepl how tis dun with books lack everthang ye always wonted to no bout sex but wuz afraid to ast n sensuous woman n sexyull inadequasies by masters johnson.

corse everbidy members the good news bout them vols a beatin air force in the sugar bowl, 34-13. n thay finely put the nfl n afl together into one, witch made cents on a counta thay wuz alreddy havin superbowls. oh n that wuz before thay ruint baseball a'letting folks bat that woodnt play the field.

n thay wood be bad news lack how the beatles broke up n how jimi hendrix n janis joplin died. n the nashnull debt wuz all the way up to $380 billyun, witch that wuz sum reel money in them days when ye consider that a gallon of gas wuz 36 cent, a furst class stamp wuz 6 cent n a duzen aigs set ye back 62 cent. corse now that aint much of a debt compart to whut raygun or bush cud pull. we got yarly defasits thats biggern that. but even so, folks wuz wurred bout it. n thay wuz inflayshun a'trine to git goin, witch it wood.

such wuz the worl i went out into whenever i got that job at bobs big boy restrunt. i lookt in the 'see me valley,' but twuznt all bilt up yet n thay dint have much wurk fer youngns.

fack wuz, i cum by the job almos by a acts dint. ye member how i had to take this murkin histry class at nite, n thats whar i met mr dimund, witch he bleevd lots of thangs my daddy bleevd n after the furst class he n i fell into conversayshun bout thangs in genrl. hed spotted me durin class whenever he ast bout whar histry cum frum n i splaint whut my daddy dun alredy figgert out, witch histry is the story the winners rites down to justify whut thay dun n to proov that the rite side always wins. that put im back a bit, so he ast me whut i thought about truth. dint that have a part to play in histry? i tole him i reckont it might accordin to whuther thay wuz innybidy that new the truth n cud state it n cud proov it, n far as i new, thay wernt no such folk. so histrys about the best we kin do.

seem lack he greed with my daddy, n after class he ast did i want to git a drank n discuss it futher, witch i wuz thursty n sed i wood. he had a beer n i had a rc cola n we talkt bout thangs. he sed he wuz cundimmed to sadness n frustrayshun on a counta whut all he had dun larnt. he splaint a number of thangs durin that one talk, lack how democracy wuz a lot lack mob rule n ifn ye thought much bout thangs ye wuz destined to shar his frustrayshun.

n why? on a counta ye might not kin fool all the peepl all the time, but ye kin doot long nuff to git the leckshun. n he sed twuz sad when our cuntry had a debt of near $2 thousund dollars a person fer everbidy in the hole cuntry, n twuz a'rizin ever year. n he raled on bout the winner take all votin sistem we had n howt made lil victries into big mandates n how that same sistem loud one side to shout down tother points of view n how them inglish n thar parlormintory sistem wuz better at doin the will of all the peepl. twent on n on, n i new jes whut to say on a counta my daddy bleevin much the same sorta thang septin that bit bout thar cud be innythang rong with how our gummints dun set up.

so after we'd uset up all the politickal talk, he ast me whut i wuz a'gone do. i cudnt be shure whut he wuz aimin at, whuther twuz whut i wuz a'gone do that evnin or whuther twuz whut i plannd fer the next day or whuther twuz whut i plannd doin fer the rest of my life. i figgert id tell him the part that had me mos wurried, witch that wuz how to git a job, n he tole me bout the murkin sistem frum a nuther perspecktiv. sed sumthin bout unregulatid captullism wuz mint to divide the rich uns frum the poor uns, n that everbidy wuz a master or a slave, n that ifn yer startin out in life n dint have a silver spoon in yer mouth whenever ye wuz born, then yer a slave n ye kin always fine wurk whar thay hire slaves. i always wisht i unnerstood how folks cud git the silver spoon befor thay wuz born, but i never figgerd tout.

i tole him i dun thought slavry wuz over, n he lafft n sed thats how thay kin keep it a'wurkin. 'Slavery or slave wages: it's all the same.' so i ast him whar i cud go to hire on fer slave wages, witch that seemt differnt than ackshul slavry. n he sed thay wuz always wurk on a counta two thangs. one wuz food, whuther harvestin or preparin or cookin or sellin it. n tuther wuz garbage, whuther twuz cleenin tup or takin tout or brakint down or rakin up the leeves or cleenin up the toilet or whutever it might be. food n garbage, he sed, thats whar everthang begins far as slavry wuz concernt. seem lack sum folk dint ever wont to have to russle up thar own meal or cleen up afterds either one, n thats when thay larnt bout makin other folk do the wurk thay dint lack.

i wuz feelin a bit thick, mayhap on a counta it bein a long n ventfull day, so i ast him whut perzackly i oughta do.

'Simple. Apply at any restaurant if you like to eat and smell like grease. Apply to any clean up crew if you want to use your back and smell like garbage.'

inny place? i wunderd.

'MacDonalds. Bobs Big Boy. Sanitation department. Local farm. You go to any one of them and tell them you need a job. Dress well. Be polite. Don't ask too many questions.'

the deeanjullos tole me i cud rent thar car to go back n forth to wurk fer a dishnull $10 a week n i had to buy my own gas. thay had em a nuther car case thay needed it, n i promist i'd by me a car of my own soons i cud cumulate the scratch.

n so twuz that i tride at the next bobs big boy restrunt, witch that wuz overn the valley. n thar i met dick screema, who wuz the manger of that bobs. twuz jes lack mr dimund sed only thay wuz payun bettern he'd allowed, a hourly sum of $2.28 on a counta thay had this union to make shure the wurkers gut good pay.

n i cum home after a gittin that job n felt proud of myself. whut i dint no wuz i wuz a'crossin a threshholt into a worl that wud never give me the same kind freedum agin.

lucky fer me i lack to wurk.

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