With the big time crack dealer newly sprung from the pen, a string of robberies in the old ‘hood has the yuppies up in arms. Country D and I had a brief conversation at El L’s graduation party. (He was not invited but his family are friends, so what can you do?) I excused myself from the exchange early as what, exactly, is one supposed to say… “Hey, what have you been up to in the last five years?” I mean, I already know he was thrown in solitary. But anyway, Country D seemed (oddly?) happy to see everyone. Five years is a rather long time, I suppose. In the pokey they say time stretches on forever but I honestly find these years passing in the blink of an eye.
I was going to comment on Country D’s massive snake tatoo winding up his forearm but couldn’t remember if that was the one that Mere Mere described as, “sick.” Sick, I presume, in a bad way. I call him Country D because, although many of his developmental years were spent hanging around the same neighborhood as I did, Country D has somehow developed one of the thickest poor southern accents that I’ve heard in a very long time. Poor to the point of almost unintelligible. (And this is coming from someone who deciphers language and dialects for a living.) Is this prison speak? Will Buddy talk like that when he gets sprung?
Anyway, Country D is out and the neighborhood was robbed. Frank the Tsar, a target and prime gossip, Freudian slipped that, “And didn’t you hear Buddy is back? I mean Country D?” Well, who can blame him. I won’t be surprised if Country D facilitated the burglaries but I’d prefer to have hope (but not blind hope) in reformation for the time being. At least we can eliminate Buddy from usual lineup.
You know, it speaks volumes that Frank the Tsar is kicking conjecture into high gear. After all his, sister was profiled as a loony on 20/20 on the story about the guy (her husband/obsession) who allegedly killed two of his infants for the insurance dough and blamed it on SIDS. Is it weird that I know at least two people who’ve been the focus of scandalous news magazine shows?
About tragedy: Sometimes one will become almost enraptured in the drama of a tragedy that doesn’t personally touch them. But if something really horrible happens in their own life, it becomes almost excruciatingly unbearable to even think about, much less talk about and find the motivation or energy to exploit. I mean, hell, I can’t stand it when people yada, yada about the dysfunction of Buddy’s incarceration with the expectation of a detailed description about how it has absolutely torn a hole inside the innards of the family. I much prefer a calm sentence or two because while I have a box seat to action of high “entertainment” value, it’s really not doing anyone any good to constantly worry about something I have truly no control over.
And that’s my rant for tonight. I hope the last on this subject.