Monday, July 16, 2012


  I really hope that's the last time I see this bearing
My hands are crippled and my back is ruined from doing this work in a gravel parking lot. But it's unavoidable and it's for a purpose that I understand and it was within my means. This is all part of the seemingly contradictory principle of simplicity which basically hoards all the complexity that normally would be spooned out to service workers.

Rear Axle oil seals

 I was accosted by the CC police department as I played gospel hymns in my van. I was parked at another park and this one was visible to the street so someone called me in or else the beat cops had nothing better to do. So they rolled up, one cop, two cops, three cops all up in my grill in their triangulation routine. I stumbled into the blistering sun to say hello, not putting on shoes or even putting my guitar down since maybe I could serenade them.
The lady cop was in my face.
LC "What are you doing?"
Oggy: Is the park closed? I..."
The gentleman cop distracted me with a question about how many times the cops had talked to me since I'd been in Texas and while my head was turned the lady cop stealthily moved behind me. She grabbed my ban lon plaid 70s shirt in a bunch at the back and said, "I'm just gonna search you for weapons."
And she padded my hips and I prayed she wouldn't look close enough to see I was wearing my Spiderman Underroos.
"You have any drugs?" she asked as her hands groped my junk. I literally had only my keys and my wallet and a guitar. You couldn't get more beat.
In his element
And this is where it's complicated because my answer that I'd been practicing for just this situation is, "Drugs? Don't you know that stuff'll kill you?" and my tone was supposed to be like she was asking if I had any drugs to sell to her. Basically, it's the same tone I use when some street urchin with his hospital discharge bracelet on asks me if I want to get stoned or break into a car to get money to buy crack. "What? You should have your head examined. I'm clean! I'm partners with Jesus!" You know, the tone of voice that's beyond she's the one who is wrong. I wanted to whisper, "Dude, there's a cop right there!" referring to her partner. It was supposed to be funny but you could hear a mouse piss on a ball of cotton after I said it. So I refrained from saying the tag I'd worked on, "I bet the Department could pay for your rehab..."
There followed an encounter that still probably gives those cops night sweats. I was singing "Just a closer walk with thee" abandoned park, van with woodstove, Labrador flag, drug free, stone sober and saying, "What puzzles me is the incidence of Juvenile crime. Wouldn't you agree there's a crisis..."

And they refused to admit that I was actually on their side because that would destroy their world view. I'd say it is stressful enough to change oil seals in a parking lot using your toothbrush as a slide hammer but to have the police on your back literally brushing her mustache on my neck hairs, is really too much to deal with. My shoulder hurts. My eyes are blurry. I think the ranch job passed me over for someone with more Hog killing experience. Etc. And now the cops have me on their radar just as several problems with the van are giving me fits. It's hot and I'm broken but I will never do drugs.

1 comment:

Oggy Bleacher said...

It pisses me off to read this. Minding my own business singing gospel songs and they fuck with me, actually grabbed me in such a way that most people would react by hitting her in the head with my elbow...and she knew that and was actually trying to instigate my reaction so they could haul me in and pin a murder on me. IT was actually brilliant because it accomplished her directive of cleaning up the streets of trash like me.

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Man in the Van by Oggy Bleacher is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 Unported License.