Bob Dylan plays the harmonica and the Police Car

JoshuaClayton By JoshuaClayton, 24th Mar 2018 | Follow this author | RSS Feed | Short URL http://nut.bz/1m09iv9x/
Posted in Wikinut>Humour>Funny Stories

I based this article on some liner notes I read to Bob Dylan's albums "Blonde on Blonde" and "Highway 61 Revisited", and a few other of his early music albums I listen to regularly. Hope this is at least interesting:

Think of it:

"The Man" plays a police car regularly, and he plays it in this way: He puts on a siren every time he feels that something is going wrong. Meanwhile, it is near my Dad's birthday on March 27th, 2018. The inner siren is going off in my head saying, is this all there is?

Sometimes, I listen to Leon Russell's version of Hummingbird in the dark of my mind thinking that love is all there is when it comes down to it, though. Sometimes those sirens from the police when I listen to my music player drive into the midnight of my consciousness.

Think of it: There are many things better in life than being a trouble junkie. I mean that peace is the way, not pieces of misery, but genuine peace. But how long will it take for us to realize that? I don't wonder though, I am a patient afterthought of the 1970s in which I was born. To be exact, I was born on Easter Sunday, April 13th, 1975 in Hawthorne, California on 135th Street and Hawthorne Boulevard at 4:20 PM. Quiet, don't tell nobody, I told you enough here.

It's alright, as long as I am not bleeding.

Visualize me saying in a Gary Owens God-like announcer voice: "I am an afterthought of the '70s!" I once had a friend in the early 1980s with cancer named Frank Rose, I felt so sorry for his plight that I let him pretend to steal my bicycle as a kid, and ride around saying "I am stealing your bike, Josh." and I would reply, "yeah sure, have fun." The other kids would say stuff like, "why don't you beat him up, and take your bike back?", and I would say in reply: "As bad as he has it, he needs a little fun now and then." He died in 1984. Some people lived in 1984, but he died. I'm glad I could give him some pleasure in life of some sort before his 17th birthday came and passed, other than saying crap like "good luck".

It's alright, as long as I'm not bleeding. I got a fat lip from a popular kid about a year later in 1985 named Eugene Poole, I got it on purpose so I could say, "Yeah, I got beat up by somebody cool, do I get props beyond special education, now?" The answer was still no, but my drunk Uncle Bill liked the kid anyway, so I egged him on to give me one just to say, see I can take it after all. I did not bleed, I just had a two-day fat lip and a minor ego trip that I was cool for five seconds to boot.

My back pages

Oh, I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now. Life is more than just a strange series of memories and craziness, right down to my Uncle William Eugene "Bill" Porter needing to be driven home by my Dad and I after a night of serious drinking at a bar in Hermosa Beach, California twice in 1986 and once in 1987. I remember stuffing him into the back seat of the 1967 Cougar with my Dad, and my Dad even gave him bus fare when he sobered up to get his car in Hermosa Beach, California. The old joke was, Joe saves Bill and the chicken chokes the road. My Dad was Joe, and my Uncle was Bill, and those nights we drove home, the chickens were literally choking the road as my Dad was sick himself with all sorts of health troubles and would be gone in about five years after those incidents. He was forty-seven at the time and he died at fifty-two. I could go into the why and how details, but that is all you need to know about that time in my life. Those are part of my back pages.

Recently, I left a facebook message for the Director/Principal of my old school I was going to at that time Rainbow Bridge Center. I could only muster a "have a good'n" and a few other pithy, yet interesting things to say, nothing deep until he answers me. The counselors there used to tell me I was making all of "my weird scenes in life" up, and they could only stomach "the normal stuff". I have news for them, the weird stuff was my normal, and the normal stuff was weird to me. Now, really folks, this was long before "normal" school shootings, and weird scenes of politically correct terrorism were going on in schools and stuff. Face it, the normal stuff is over, let "the weird scenes inside the gold mine" begin for real. Oh, I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now.

Nothing weird here, though

I do not lay blame or put fault on time in a vault. It's all right and it is life and life only. I made a resolution in 2005 after the last time I saw my friends Lisa and Michael Schwallie and in 2012, the so-called "Mayan end of the world" not to live in the past and this is as close as I get to revisiting it in a way. Even in my writing, I look forward ahead, and be as cool as I can be. Because for me, the past sucked eggs for the most part. Sure, there were a few good times in there if I really look, but the present and future is where it is at in reality, all else is spent cash and carry over and over and whatever. I end this with three positive words, I am ready.

Tags

Humor, Humor Writing, Humorous 2012 New Year Resolution, Humorous Fable, Humorous Guy Story, Humorous Stories

Meet the author

author avatar JoshuaClayton
I am a freelance writer based in Inglewood, California, USA. I used to write under a few aliases, but now I have nothing to hide and write mostly under my own name. I write mostly on self-help topics.

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