569. October 9… “It ain’t what you do it’s the way that you do it” Cristoforo Colombo…he’d have said it in Italian….really

"The Last Flip Flop of Summer" ©2011 Robert Redus

“Being sober on a bus is, like, totally different than being drunk on a bus.” – Ozzy Osbourne

“I was married to a gringo”…. “wow what does that mean,”…was my first thought”….

I moved to Huntsville Alabama in 1974…after a rather tumultuous summer at a university in East Texas…I had been released from the school for “academic reasons”…and really had no other place to go other than where I had been…or go with my brother to Alabama…I chose “Dixie”….and for the short time it was it was an adventure…no doubt…I tried hitchhiking up the newly opened I75 to Kentucky…where my parents were living at the time…but to get to I75 meant a trek through rural Alabama and Tennessee…something my naive self had not yet experienced…

I of course looked like something from a Gilbert Shelton Underground Comic…bib overalls…braided hair…beard….earrings…some lucky amulet around my neck and of course…the 1970’s Canned Heat… “On the Road Again”….Back Pack…I could have been a poster child for that day in 1975…

I became lost in Northern Alabama…stopped into a small…gas station/general store/grocery/feed store/mechanic/post office/bar where up against the wall sitting on a long bench were about 10 older local men in their 60’s and 70’s….all wearing bib overalls for a different reason…hats…and they were all white…when I walked in…that sort of silence…I’d never heard…they didn’t acknowledge me…just stared…and shortly went back to their conversation…they all used the derogatory “N” word…said it quite a bit in the 10 minutes I was in the place looking over the map and drinking an ROC Cola with peanuts…they talked about hippies and gays, and everything else that was subversive…ruining the country…oh and communists…I got my bearings and left…and I never thought about that day until…a few days ago…

The word… “Vernacular” means…  “expressed or written in the native language of a place” it comes from the Latin word “vernaculus” derived from the word “Verna” which means “Home born slave/native”….

many speak in the vernacular…well educated as well as not…and for what ever the reason is it must be working…or why do it…call it cultural or nurture…circumstantial…intentional…pressure…or choice…why is pretty unimportant…

don’t you like the people that curse every third word…it makes me think of what it would be like watching a porn film blind folded…I try my best to get the visual while the next set of words are getting loaded up…ready for delivery…because it could be anything…yet the speaker has already put together the perfect blending of words to make the scene something visually yet uninhibited…and I can only stand them for awhile…

so a few days ago…I thought of those old white guys in bib overalls wearing hats…sitting on a bench…somewhere in Northern Alabama…talking shit….and the two things that I clearly concluded were…

  1.  they are all dead and
  2.  their vernacular…well it was perfect for them…right there on that bench in that store at that time in….1975…

“There is in my opinion a great similarity between the problems provided by the mysterious behavior of the atom and those provided by the present economic paradoxes confronting the world.” – Paul Dirac

Advertisements

5 thoughts on “569. October 9… “It ain’t what you do it’s the way that you do it” Cristoforo Colombo…he’d have said it in Italian….really

    • You are so right…but it is everywhere and towards and about everyone….the separation we demand while we know we are all the same is alarming…what should matter is the person…nothing else…an asshole is an asshole no matter what color, gender, race, religion, persuasion…etc…

      Like

      • That has always been my motto, an asshole is an asshole no matter what their ethnicity. Oh sure it is everywhere, I have this habit of pushing different ‘castes’ together. people always walk away going wow that was cool, or wtf was that LOL. I had a bright blue eyed very scary looking homeless guy that I befriended when I worked in downtown phx years back. Well he disappeared for a while. I worried for him. One day this handsome blue eyed man walked up to me and said hi I got a job and an apartment. I looked at him real hard and there he was my friend, not scary looking anymore! My point is I guess I do not demand separation, I want inclusion. People do matter! I like everybody, til they mess with me. Then I cry.

        Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s