Timed treasure seekers swindle the calm spirit,
they travel northbound during the silent season of fall,
crispness air increased,
lungs grip tugging at the autumn's condensation,
and so they had already found their bounty,
but neither will realize this until years later.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Truckin' Teddy
Teddy seemed around sixty years old, with a full on santa beard, he carried a nasty stench of Doral cigarettes that hovered about him keeping strangers at bay. The interior of his cab did stink like body odor as well and as sick as it fumed thru my nostrils, I found I'd become immune to this fairly rapidly. Just as Ronnie had, Teddy generously let me bum as many cigs' off him whenever I so desired. We stopped during the end of this road weary coursing night, at the genesis of dawn, the hours I seemed to feel most alive, I could travel in this covered darkness without any fear of repercussions. I could divulge in any illegal or wrong doings that I frequently found myself involved for the duration of these devilish few hours. For about a year I never had to deal with any real consequences. That would end very shortly after my return to TX a week or so later.
The stereotypical version of any truck stop diner one can imagine is where we dined. I was ravenous and he bought me breakfast and I ate un-apologetically crazed by hunger, surrounded by these hurly burly redneck lot of characters sharing in this fried, battered, and scrambled up cuisine. We were somewhere between San Francisco and the Oregon border. I didn't know exactly where I was but I did know that I was very close to the infamous Big Sur, where I learned about in my reading Kerouac's novels. One is actually titled Big Sur, but he includes this wonder of northern California in several of his works of fiction.
"Thats some of the best biscuits n' gravy in the state," Teddy said as I had just taken my first bite he looked into my face for some sign of reply in my facial expression showing agreement with his statement as my mouth was full and I chewed faster now so I could verbalize an opinion.
"I don't think they're better than these grits though.... Damn! I always figured southerners made the best grits. I wouldn't ever argue this point with one of 'em but it just goes to show how little I know about something as simple as fuckin' grits!" I laughed and continued on with another mouth load to ravish.
"Spoken like a true lil' nigger!" he laughed at his instilled racist values and I chuckled too, which pretty much made me just as much a bigot as him.
"U look like an old ass monkey yourself...."
"Well aren't you just a little smart ass for such a young man!"
"Fuck yea... but Im just jacking with ya' Teddy....," I agreed and he wore a vague smile watching me finish as he sipped on his black coffee, "Teddy were you in Vietnam?" I inquired upon seeing an old Army tattoo.
"No sir Kuhhreeaa.... got shot a few times and almost blown up on a few occasions," he laughed again. At least he can look back on such shitty and violent times such as war in such a light hearted manner. I ate and ate, sat back finally finished with my food and sipped on some black coffee, chain-smokin' Teddy's Dorals and listening to him carry on about the war. Naturally the pervert in the man eventually was revealed as he began talking about dirty sexual shit. I mean I don't blame him he was pretty much a typical dude talking about sex but he creeped me out, but not nearly as the dirty 'ol man had in Tacoma. I sat there and soaked in his story about one of the times he came close to blowing his legs and probably his dick clean off his body as well, but was shielded by a fellow soldier who's body was sacrificed instead of Teddy's.
If he had been blown to shit in those distant jungles he wouldn't of been telling me this story about a Korean prostitute he saw shortly thereafter almost being pummeled to shreds the previous week. He wouldn't have a little bastard half and half baby that he said he was made aware of 15 years later. I could here hints of shame in his tone as he spoke about him, and he in his ramblings he continually referred to him as his lil' chink bastard boy(I'm just reporting in how he continually described his son w such derogatory 'terms of endearment'). His intentions were once pure he explained when he'd initially discovered his only known offspring, but being clear across the world he never did go and make good on his responsibilities towards that poor kid. My point being proves some truths to how gay and stupid intentions can be if never acted upon. I forgot the famous quote about intentions, but it's something like roads never get paved merely by good intentions. Anyways that was the main lingering regret of Teddy's life, though he did not admit to it, the guilt was clearly translated thru his tone and mannerisms as he carried on narrating. I just wish he could let go of the demeaning way he still described the boy's mother. Here he was old as shit and you'd think he'd gained some wisdom and truth from the whole ordeal, but he clearly was another bitter old American, long lost past the standard American Dream. His days' were numbered and he knew it and didn't give a shit about his salvation or anything beyond the grave. He was the same as he'd always been just meaner and bitter. It was sad but another very revealing character I would encounter in my travels that summer.
The stereotypical version of any truck stop diner one can imagine is where we dined. I was ravenous and he bought me breakfast and I ate un-apologetically crazed by hunger, surrounded by these hurly burly redneck lot of characters sharing in this fried, battered, and scrambled up cuisine. We were somewhere between San Francisco and the Oregon border. I didn't know exactly where I was but I did know that I was very close to the infamous Big Sur, where I learned about in my reading Kerouac's novels. One is actually titled Big Sur, but he includes this wonder of northern California in several of his works of fiction.
"Thats some of the best biscuits n' gravy in the state," Teddy said as I had just taken my first bite he looked into my face for some sign of reply in my facial expression showing agreement with his statement as my mouth was full and I chewed faster now so I could verbalize an opinion.
"I don't think they're better than these grits though.... Damn! I always figured southerners made the best grits. I wouldn't ever argue this point with one of 'em but it just goes to show how little I know about something as simple as fuckin' grits!" I laughed and continued on with another mouth load to ravish.
"Spoken like a true lil' nigger!" he laughed at his instilled racist values and I chuckled too, which pretty much made me just as much a bigot as him.
"U look like an old ass monkey yourself...."
"Well aren't you just a little smart ass for such a young man!"
"Fuck yea... but Im just jacking with ya' Teddy....," I agreed and he wore a vague smile watching me finish as he sipped on his black coffee, "Teddy were you in Vietnam?" I inquired upon seeing an old Army tattoo.
"No sir Kuhhreeaa.... got shot a few times and almost blown up on a few occasions," he laughed again. At least he can look back on such shitty and violent times such as war in such a light hearted manner. I ate and ate, sat back finally finished with my food and sipped on some black coffee, chain-smokin' Teddy's Dorals and listening to him carry on about the war. Naturally the pervert in the man eventually was revealed as he began talking about dirty sexual shit. I mean I don't blame him he was pretty much a typical dude talking about sex but he creeped me out, but not nearly as the dirty 'ol man had in Tacoma. I sat there and soaked in his story about one of the times he came close to blowing his legs and probably his dick clean off his body as well, but was shielded by a fellow soldier who's body was sacrificed instead of Teddy's.
If he had been blown to shit in those distant jungles he wouldn't of been telling me this story about a Korean prostitute he saw shortly thereafter almost being pummeled to shreds the previous week. He wouldn't have a little bastard half and half baby that he said he was made aware of 15 years later. I could here hints of shame in his tone as he spoke about him, and he in his ramblings he continually referred to him as his lil' chink bastard boy(I'm just reporting in how he continually described his son w such derogatory 'terms of endearment'). His intentions were once pure he explained when he'd initially discovered his only known offspring, but being clear across the world he never did go and make good on his responsibilities towards that poor kid. My point being proves some truths to how gay and stupid intentions can be if never acted upon. I forgot the famous quote about intentions, but it's something like roads never get paved merely by good intentions. Anyways that was the main lingering regret of Teddy's life, though he did not admit to it, the guilt was clearly translated thru his tone and mannerisms as he carried on narrating. I just wish he could let go of the demeaning way he still described the boy's mother. Here he was old as shit and you'd think he'd gained some wisdom and truth from the whole ordeal, but he clearly was another bitter old American, long lost past the standard American Dream. His days' were numbered and he knew it and didn't give a shit about his salvation or anything beyond the grave. He was the same as he'd always been just meaner and bitter. It was sad but another very revealing character I would encounter in my travels that summer.
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