wandering hillbilly

life of buddy don, chaptur 35:
the $15 hed shranker

one of the thangs i had to do whenever they let me out of the mental health clink wuz go back n see one of thar docters to talk bout whut wuz a botherin me. they tole me i had to go, n then they tole me i had to pay $15 a visit, witch that seemed a bit steep to me. i went the furst time n met a guy who looked as young as me. he wuz in need of a bath or at least a bit of shampoo for his greasy hair, n ifn he had a name, i dont ritely recollect whut twuz.

he ast me to splain the situwayshun, n i dun my best to do jes that, givin him the deetail on how me n darlene cum to have a open marrg n how she cum to be in luv with one of her perfessers n how twuz only natcherul she wood on a counta she wuz in skool n i wuz way behind her n she wuz making new friens n all. n the hole time i wuz a'tellin him bout whut dun happened, i wuz keepin my emoshuns out of the pitcher as much as possbull.

he listened keerful lack to everthang i sed n then ast me did i wont his pinion. i tole him thats purty much whut i cum to git. n he tole me i wuz full of shit. thems the verr wurds he used, 'full of shit.'

on one level, ye mite could say everbidys full of shit on a counta in sum ways we aint nuthin more'n tubes fer food to cum into one end of the tube, git converted to shit, n then go out tuther end.

but twuz clear he mint that i wuz full of shit on a counta the way i splained the situwayshun with darlene.

it so happened i wuz spected fer dinner over to mamas that evenin, n whenever i gut thar, daddy wuz the only one home. he wuz a'sittin at the kitchen table, drankin a beer n eatin cheezits, witch that wuz his ritchual mos ever nite. he ast did i wont a beer n i sed i wood take one even tho twernt sumthin i wonted, but i tuck it on a counta he hadnt ever offered me alkyhol to drank befor.

so we fell into a conversayshun n twuz natcherul that he wood ast bout my visit to the hed shranker. i tole him whut he sed bout me bein full of shit n that twuz all on a counta i wuz trine to intelleck-chew-allize (whut a wurd!) everthang in sted of feelin it n all. turnt out daddy n me bleeved purty much the same on thisn, n that talk wuz the furst time ever whar he acted lack i wuz on his level. n ye could see whar he wuz proud i turnt out lack him.

then cum the acksident whar i destroyed my car n marked that tree. he wuz the one cum to the hospital to see wuz i ok, n whenever he gut thar, ye could see that this wuz sumthin he couldnt intelleck-chew-allize a tall. i wuz a'lyin on the table waitin fer the docter to stitch up the cuts in my face, witch i had two n they changed how i looked frum then on, n daddy cum in n tole me how my car had killt a buck deer n how the rodes wuz icy n all, n i sed, 'daddy, yer jes lookin fer excuses when ye know i dun it.' n he covered my mouth n sed he did know it but that thar woodnt be nuthin gained ifn everbidy did.

'thays sum thangs better kep to yerself,' he tole me. 'else ye wont git to live yer own life. tiz hard to know when to keep quite, but this is a time to.'

n he wuz rite bout that.

i did keep quite bout it, n next time i saw the $15 hed shranker, he could see that sumthin bout me had dun changed. then he sed he wuz afraid i had dun made a flite into health, n that bein the case, thay wuznt much he could do fer me. i reckon ye mite could say that thar acksident dun knocked the shit rite out of me, lease long a nuff to git away frum him.

n i did git away, n fer a while, seem lack daddy n me gut along purty good. he lacked playin golf, n sumtimes twood be him n eli n me over to dead horse lake over in knoxvul or south hills in oak ridge n even tho he give us a ten stroke limit, seem lack we never had much fun. but twuz a way of passin time with him, so we dun it ever so often till eli gut mad after makin a nuther bad shot n he broke daddys five iron n that wuz the last time eli went or daddy invited him.

n whenever daddy wuznt splainin bout keepin my lef arm strate n my eye on the ball n takin a keerful back swang n swangin rite thru the ball n not wurryin too much bout my slice n even sayin mayhap i should aim to the lef so the slice mite brang me back into the fairway n all them other thangs ye need to member n keep under yer cuntrol ifn yer gone play golf, well, whenever he wuznt splainin all that, he wood git to discussin his theories bout life n how ye needed to keep yer emoshuns in cuntrol n let yer mind do the thankin. n that seemed lack plane common sense to me.

but twood be years befor i wood larn the truth, n much as it hurt to hear that greasy-heded, $15 hed shranker tell me i wuz full of shit, he wuz rite.