the tattoo man - Part 3

"Older times we're missing spending the hours reminiscing - Hurry, don't be late. I can hardly wait, I said to myself when we're old - We'll go dancing in the dark, walking through the park and reminiscing."

Little River Band ~ Reminiscing

I've known Brian Wilson Boatwright (everyone in Greenwood County calls him Boaty) since the sixth grade. It would be awesome to see him and a couple other Bulldog alums head to Las Vegas towards the end of June for a visit - "Bring the old lady, I don't care," I told him in our conversation yesterday, "She'll have a great time. I promise you will love my Village Idiot street tour. It's a very interesting tour to take. I am convinced a guy like you would appreciate it." The sales pitch is vanilla nowadays. My thoughts are if he likes the blog & is following along then why not come out and let me give him the tour - "It don't cost anything to look & besides it's always a great time in Las Vegas no matter what. What do you say?" -- "I am talking it over with the Mrs. right now. I'll get back to you," is his answer to my suggestion.

He knows everyone in Greenwood County - "What's Kittie doing nowadays?" She was the local beauty queen who broke hearts everywhere she went - "She's doing well. Her daughter plays against my daughter in one of the soccer leagues. She's still as nice as ever. She has a new boyfriend now and it looks pretty serious." -- "What about Elmo? What the hell is he doing." -- "Screwing hogs & farming. He will be doing it till the day he dies." Elmo's family have farmed the land of Greenwood County for generations. It would be strange without them - "Do you ever see Elmo?" -- "Haven't seen the bastard in years. I don't think he ever leaves the farm," he tells me with a snicker, "I take that back," he adds, "The only time he leaves the farm is to go to the gun range."

"Do you still hang out at the 19th Hole?" It was the local watering hole back in the day - "The 19th Hole is long gone my friend. If we want to buy liquor we have to head up to the liquor store in Olpe." It's ironic in ways. The town I grew up in doesn't have a bar - Las Vegas has a bar on every corner - "Where do people go to drown their sorrows?" I add with a shrug - "They drive to Olpe and get their liquor and drive back. If they run out they drive back to Olpe. I know because I've done it numerous times Mr. City Slicker," he says with a laugh - It's hard to imagine living in a town without a bar - I tell him such and he says - "It's the country boy," he then adds "I will tell you this if it makes you feel better. I've lived in Madison my whole life and never once found it hard to find a drink."

the tattoo man - Part 2

"Welcome to the jungle, we got fun-n-games. We got everything you want. Honey we know the names - We are the people who can find whatever you may need. If you got the money honey we got your disease - In the jungle, welcome to the jungle. Watch it bring you to your shun,n,n,n,n,n,n, knees." 

Welcome to the Jungle ~ Guns-n-Roses

I've been reminiscing with one of Greenwood Counties finest the last few days - "Boaty, I still remember when you loaned me your Appetite for Destruction tape & told me this was the best stuff you had ever heard. I probably listened to the cassette a thousand times. As a matter of fact I never gave it back to you." Boaty was the grooviest guy at Madison High by a mile - "Women like a more cultured man. Even in Madison. It's not always about sports," he would say to me whenever he scored one of his many dates in high school. He was a real smooth operator.

"What's the deal with you and this Roxy gal on your blog? Is she even real?" -- "You better believe she is real," I tell him with exuberance - "The problem is I love her too much and won't let go. Even though it is never going to happen." -- "You make it sound like there is a hot chick everywhere you turn in Las Vegas. Surely you can find a replacement." He's right about the hot chick part, the thing is I only have eyes for one girl - "I know it sucks," I tell him with a familiar shrug - "I am too dumb to know any better."

"You ever run into Mad Max around town?" Mad Max is another guy I have known since the sixth grade - "I saw that dumb son of a bitch a few weeks ago in Emporia," he replies, "Do you remember where the Red Dog use to be? It's called the Golden Noose nowadays. He hangs out in there sometimes. What a dumb ass," he adds with a snicker - "Does he still do all the prepping, or is he is just feeding me a line of bullshit," I inquire with a snicker of my own - "I don't know what the clown does. I will tell you this he still carries a couple guns wherever he goes. He had three of his guns lying on the bar at the Noose last time I went there. I didn't really talk to him that much. It didn't look like he was in a good mood."

We chat about the weather for a few minutes & then he says - "I have an idea for you if you ever come back to visit. I will tattoo 'Village Idiot' across your lower back. Think of it as a guy 'tramp stamp," he adds with a laugh - "It will be a good fit." - If I ever did get a tattoo he would be the guy to do it. Although, I will pass on the mail tramp stamp idea - "How about a raging bull on one of my bulging biceps. Do you think you could do that?" -- "Only if you have a bulging bicep," he replies with a snicker - "Maybe a raging bull on your not so bulging bicep is a better way to say it," he adds with another laugh - "Next time you come to town I will line you out with the best tattoo you have ever had." I don't have any tattoos. I remind him of such and he says - "See, that's why it will be the best tattoo you've ever had."

Before our time ends I remind him of Mad Max & Roy's pending visit to Las Vegas - "Why don't you come out when they do. It will be like a Bulldog reunion in the desert. I am convinced a guy like you would enjoy the Village Idiot street tour. It is a lot of fun. That's what previous recipients have told me any way." Boaty is a family man nowadays and running off to Las Vegas for some fun is not always as easy as it sounds - "Let me think about it boy. I have to run it by the old lady as well. I'll get back to you," is his final words before saying goodbye.

the tattoo man...

Greenwood County, Kansas is an interesting place, full of interesting people. One of them happens to be a fellow named Brian Wilson Boatwright. Everyone calls him Boaty. I've known him since the sixth grade. He's a fan of the blog, which I appreciate. Anyhoo, we chatted the other day about the good ol' days - "What about the time they jammed us into the job of filming football games. Jesus, Little Dick was pissed off about that." We were freshman, the football coach was Coach Little, Boaty often referred to him as Coach Little Dick - it was funny back in the day:

"Yeah, we were so stupid we didn't even consider the camera might have an audio feature to it. I will admit this to you - even though we only filmed one game it was a memorable one - too bad we don't have a copy of that film," I say as I recall the incident - The film consisted of us extending vulgar comments to Coach LD & others as we taped the game. Again - unbeknownst to the two Mensa members at the time - their voices were being recorded - "Goddammit that was funny Boaty," I add with another laugh, "I remember how you did your announcers voice and said - 'The head coach of the Madison High Bulldogs! Coach Little Dick!"

As I am wiping the tears from my eyes he adds - "What about the time I was taking a dump and you kicked the door open on the stall and it knocked me off the toilet." Remember it was high school - the thing back then was to kick the stall open on one of your buddies when they weren't expecting it and then yell - "Raid!" Again, it was high school - "You know I do remember that. I remember going dark for a minute after you punched me." No one was ever suppose to get hurt from it, but shit happens - "When I came to I started swinging and Mr. Bolen walked in at the time and broke it up. It wasn't funny then but looking back all I can do is laugh," I tell him with a snicker - "The good ol' days buddy. They sure were a lot of fun."

We chat about the weather for a minute and then I suggest - "I'm talking to Mad Max & Roy about coming out towards the end of June for pool season. It is always a lot of fun. Why don't you come out when they do & will make it a Bulldog reunion in the desert - Lots of cool art exhibits and tattoo parlors. You know Las Vegas isn't all casinos," I add with a laugh, "I could give you the Village Idiot street tour. I believe someone like you would appreciate it."

a Bulldog legend - Part Deuce

Roy Cumpton is a Greenwood County legend. His feats are known well through the territory. Today I was telling a friend in Las Vegas how much Roy enjoyed beating people up back in his prime - "His fights were always the same," I add with a laugh, "He either tackled a guy and beat him senseless; or if that did not work he would box a guy into submission. Either way it didn't last long and I never saw him even come close to losing."

I then add - "A few of us were drinking at a bar in Emporia a long time ago. Out of no where a couple guys start hassling us. I thought we were going to get the shit beat out of us...Anyhoo, Roy just so happened to walk in the bar as things were taking shape - thank goodness. He walks up to me unaware of the situation and I motion with my eyes to the three guys standing behind us. He turns to the group and says, - 'Is there a problem? - If so we can take it outside right now.' His reputation proceeded him wherever he went. The three goons who moments earlier were threatening us...they got lost."

James starts laughing and says - "You make it sound like this guy could do anything." I snicker at his remark and then add - "He once scored six touchdowns in a playoff game; changed two flat tires; went on a date with his girlfriend; drove to Emporia & went on a date with his second girlfriend; devoured twenty dollars worth of Hardee's; stopped in Olpe on the way home to see his third girlfriend & still possessed the wherewithal to milk all the cows on the family farm the following morning. It's hard to believe with anyone else. Not Roy, it was 'run of the mill' for him."

"What's he doing now?" James ask. "As far as I can tell he is doing the dad thing in Kansas and getting along pretty good. We don't really talk about the good ol' days anymore. I haven't seen him in forever so you can definitely believe we have some catching up to do when he comes out." -- "It sounds like your friend would love Las Vegas. UFC, women, football," he adds - I laugh and say  "Yeah, I agree with you on that. The problem is he got old on me and the 'Legend' days of the past are now just fond memories. It don't matter. I am still looking forward to seeing him."

inviting a 'prepper' to town...

Recently I discovered my friend Roy from Kansas is coming to town to see me towards the end of June. I decided to call our mutual friend Mad Max, who is also from Kansas, in order to see if he is interested in coming to town when Roy does...a reunion of sorts:

"Do you think you can make it to town before the Apocalypse hits?" As I mentioned earlier - a mutual acquaintance of ours is going to be in town towards the end of June. It would be nice if Mad Max could make it as well - "I am telling you boy. You had better make it to town before the Apocalypse hits or I will be very pissed," I add once more with a hearty laugh.

Mad Max is a 'prepper' - for those of you unfamiliar with the term...look it up! - "You are a real funny guy Village Idiot. Did you know that? Think of it this way genius. Your capitulation to the deep state is a certainty. You and most of the other mindless 'sheeple' who walk around with their heads up their ass stand no chance. On the other hand, when they try to make me capitulate they are in for a rude awakening." I tease him about the 'Apocalypse' all the time. To me it is nothing more than fodder, not to him, he genuinely believes the end is coming soon.

"I will tell you this Village Idiot. If there is one shining light in my miserable existence. It's the fact we finally have a president who knows how to get things done." - Mad Max is Trump man numero uno. I ask him why he is so in love - "It's everything about the fucking guy I like. The biggest thing is his staunch support of the Second Amendment."

The reason I called is simple. Does he want to come out and visit when Roy comes to town? - "It will be like the good ol' days in Madison," I add with a laugh, "Hanging out, drinking and having a great time. The only real difference is we will be thirty years older and surrounded by a ton of hookers." -- "You really are a funny guy Village Idiot? I kind of like the idea," he then adds, "Me & the lady decided we were going to take a break from each other on vacations this year. She's going on a cruise with some of her girlfriends in May. I should be able to come out in June. Let me get back with you."

Our time comes to an end, but not before he gives me one last dose of his craziness - "When the 'deep state' comes knocking on your door will you be prepared? I know I will be! You definitely won't." It is one conspiracy after another with Mad Max - "Look," I say with emphasis, "I don't give a shit about the deep state or any other state for that matter. You just make sure you have your ass out here this summer. Hopefully the Apocalypse doesn't happen until after your trip." I then wish him well & hang the phone up.

a Bulldog legend.

I got placated a while back. I should have realized it from the start. What I was being fed ended up being nothing more than a harmless farce. I'm not out anything from it - It did irritate the hell out of me though...Anyhoo, it has passed now:

"Goddammit Roy! Where the hell have you been?" Roy Cumpton holds a special place in Bulldog lore. It was his game ending Hail Mary snag which propelled the Bulldogs to their first state title - "How you doing there village idiot? I have been reading your blog and am thinking about coming out to visit for the summer pool season." Everyone in Greenwood County referred to him as Legend back in the day. He scored touchdowns; knocked guys out; dated all the pretty girls; drove fancy cars; aced tests; danced like John Travolta -- the list goes on & on with Roy. Although, nothing compares to 'the catch.'

"Goddammit Roy! What an awesome catch!" Thirty years down the road and I still remember it like yesterday - "You got to tell me the story again." - It's a treat listening to the enthusiasm in his voice as he recollects that fateful November day - "The first time we ran the play it was a designed tailback pass to the end. The problem is they had him triple covered. We had to call timeout and I told Coach Ford they were cheating to Boyle's side of the ball and I felt I could get behind the defensive back. I told him to run the same play again and have Bennett look my way. I still remember Coach Ford's reaction in the huddle when I told him that, 'You better be right boy! Run the motherfucker again!"

There is a movie titled The Best of Times. It stars Kurt Russell & Robin Williams. At the beginning of the movie it describes how Robin William's character dropped the game winning touchdown pass in the championship game. Twenty five years later he still regrets it - "You could have been the Robin Williams character if you would have dropped the pass. Your ass would have been run right out of town." Roy says the same thing every time I make the comparison - "That's how things go in life. Sometimes you make the play & sometimes you don't. I just so happened to make that particular play."

Calling bullsh%$ + the longshots + a Donald Trump joke...

Recently an acquaintance made a claim I found impressive...too impressive. I requested proof of the claim. Which should have been a cinch (if true). Let's just say the run around has begun - What's the point? - Remain optimistic at all times. But don't be afraid to call bull shit when you suspect a person is being less than forthcoming with you:

The other day I was walking down the sidewalk minding my own business when out of no where I hear - "Hitler!" - It was my homeless friend from the neighborhood - I immediately yell - "Trump!" We share the usual chuckle over the gesture & then he adds - "Have you been paying attention to the Golden Knights," he's referencing the NHL team in town. "This is their inaugural season and they are one of the favorites to win the Stanley Cup. Who would have ever thought that would be possible?" 

I've been to one hockey game in my life. It wasn't my thing. Your love of certain sports is ingrained into you when you are young. Hockey was not around me growing up. That's why I don't care for it much. I don't really understand it either & I am too old nowadays to try - "They were 500-1 in most places around town when the season started. Now they are one of the favorites to win it all. What do you think of my new hat?" He points directly at the Golden Knights insignia on his hat - "Yeah, it was cool man. I was just standing on the corner doing my thing & out of no where I hear a guy yell 'Dude!' - The next thing I know he is flinging the hat at me as he drives by. It's a perfect fit," he adds as he takes it off, looks at it, smiles & then returns it to his noggin - "Man this a good looking hat."

It was nice having a reprieve from the usual politics spewing from his yapper. The reprieve didn't last long - "Not Trump, but your second idol, you know, Steve Wynn. Do you want to know what I would do if I was him?" Steve Wynn is not my idol. I tell him such and he says - "I know he's not your idol. The baboon is your idol. Steve Wynn is your second idol. There is a difference." - He goes on to tell me about how nasty Wynn's divorce from his first wife is & how he should buy her a box of chocolates and apologize for his boorish behavior - "I think the acrimony between the two has sailed way past that," I add with a laugh.

Our time comes to a close, he adds one last jab - "Village Idiot I have a joke for you before you leave." -- "Let's hear it," I add with a smile - "What do Donald Trump & a box of dog shit have in common?" -- "I don't know," I say with a laugh, "They both stink," is his punchline. He needs some new material - I advise him of such & carry on.

arguing politics across six lanes of traffic...

The other day I was walking down the sidewalk minding my own business when out of no where - I hear - "Hitler!" Looking around, I couldn't find the source of the noise - "Must be in my head," I tell myself as I continue my trek down the sidewalk - "Hitler!" I hear again moments later, this time much louder -"Over here village idiot!" - Flamingo Avenue is six lanes & runs E-W through town. It's a major thoroughfare in Las Vegas - Turns out the voice I thought was initially in my head was originating from the south side of Flamingo. I was standing on the north.

"Trump!" - I yell with enough force to be heard over the sounds of traffic whizzing by. It was my homeless friend from the neighborhood; the two of us share a running gag on the Trump/Hitler greetings - "Your fucking idol is about to be toast!" He yells over the streaking sound of a passing crotch rocket - Think about this for a moment. How many people can say they have argued with a homeless guy about politics while screaming across six lanes of traffic? - "I told you this already!" Yelling as loud as possible because of the clamor - "As long as Trump does what he says he is going to do with China & other bi-lateral trade agreements! He's not going no where!" - He yells something inaudible - It is then I decide my time should be appropriated to something more productive than yelling politics at a homeless guy across six lanes of traffic. So I wave him off & carry on.

dumped by Roxy...

My sister says Roxy is bad news and I should forget about her - "The way she talks to you is horrendous. You really need some serious help." She's not the first person who's told me to move on. I wish I could. I really do. It's just I love her & when you love someone, you love someone. Right? Anyhoo, I decide to give her a call today:

"Are you stupid Jethro? Do you understand English?" Last time we talked she instructed me not to call her, she would call me - My impatience is too great for the arrangement - "I'm sorry beautiful. I know you are busy. I just wanted to let you know I am thinking about you & am looking forward to the next time you come to town luscious."

I understand it. I do. She has to remind me nonetheless - "Look, I told myself I wasn't going to be rude to you. The thing is you make it hard. I should have told you this a while back, but I wasn't for sure. I am back with Rick. He is not a big fan of you. It's over, for real this time Jethro." She's had boyfriends before and it never stopped her. Plus, the guy she is telling me about is a douche nozzle.

"Sweet thing why do you have to hang out with that loser? Look, I know I am not a great catch, but I'm better than that jack off." -- "Jethro," she says in a patronizing tone I have come to adore, "First of all, you are hardly a catch. As a matter of fact that is the last word I would use to describe you. The other thing is you are always broke. I need a man who makes things happen, not some stupid blogger who can't get shit done. Let's face it Jethro. I'm way out your league. It was your stupid blog that caused me to 'slum' with you. It was fun for a while, but now it is over, for real this time Jethro. You can't afford me!" She then hangs the phone up without saying goodbye.



 

berated by uncle Ned...

It has been a minute since the last time I conversed with uncle Ned from Kansas, I decide to call - "What do you know? It's the village moron of Las Vegas." I laugh and add - "I am the village idiot of Las Vegas, not moron. You can't seem to keep that straight for some reason." Ned lives in Reno County, Kansas. It's where he was born & it will be where he dies. He starts right in with the politics - "I still can't believe this knucklehead we have as president is your idol. Do you know how dumb that makes you look?" I remind him Larry Bird is my idol, not Donald Trump - "Shut your fucking trap! Everyone knows Trump is your idol. Don't deny it."

Ned (if you can get past his initial nastiness) can be a fun guy to talk to - "What about that time you took me to New York for the first time. Do you remember the room you, me & the ex rented? - Man, that place was a shit hole." Ned talked me & the ex into an NYC visit after 9/11 - "Do you remember when you took that dump and it stunk the whole place up? The ex was pissed about that. She said she would never come to NYC again without having her own room. Good thing we found Charlie's place." The ex and I returned to NYC numerous times when I lived in Kansas. Charlie's place is the reason. It was a friend of a friend kind of deal. His place is in the West Village, a block south of 14th & 8th - It was a brownstone converted into separate quarters. I miss it. Last time I talked with Charlie he'd sold the place for seven million or some crazy number like that and is now living in Santa Fe.

"Do you know what I am suffering from right now village moron?" His health has been fragile for years - another ailment is not surprising - "I suffer from Trump fatigue. The doctor told me it is acquired by listening to stupid people like your idol." When he was younger and his health was better. He was the life of the party, one joke after another. His Trump fatigue crack reminded me of those days - "For the life of me I don't know why you think this baboon is so great. You really are a fucking moron. Did you know that?"

I steer the conversation to something less aggravating than politics - "Hey, best buddy. How do you think the Chiefs will be this year? It will be interesting with a new quarterback and all. Andy will have them ready to go and this is the year they win it all. That is my prediction." He laughs & replies - "You really are the village fucking moron if you think that is going to happen," I laugh his comment off and he starts in on the politics again - "It's a joke. The presidency is a fucking joke! Your fucking guy is a lunatic. Your idol is not going to last much longer." - I remind him, yet again, Larry Bird is my idol, not Donald Trump - "Whatever, dip shit," is his reply, he then adds - "Look, talking with the village fucking moron is always stimulating...not!" He then hangs the phone up without saying goodbye.

two geniuses conversing...

I've known Mad Max from Kansas - many, many years. More than I will ever admit...Anyhoo, I  started thinking about the anarchist son of a bitch today, so I called - "I was wondering if I was ever going to hear from you again boy. Are you getting ready for the Apocalypse?" Mad Max has always been paranoid. It is worse than ever nowadays - "Do you know what boy?" The gruffness in his voice unmistakable - "Your idol is finally getting shit together. He is going to figure out the border. The military should have been there years ago. Trump has the balls to make it happen." - Larry Bird is my idol, not Donald Trump. I remind him of such & he says - "Shut your hole boy! Everyone knows Trump is your idol."

Mad Max owns more guns than Walmart. When I lived in Kansas we would always hang out at his place. There is a gun (literally) under every pillow - "Got to be ready for when the shit house catches fire son," is one of his logic's. Let's just put it this way. I would not suggest a home invasion attempt at Mad Max's - "Have you added anymore guns to your collection lately?" I ask with a laugh. "No," he tells me with a laugh of his own, "I don't feel the need to buy anymore now that your idol is a staunch supporter of the Second Amendment."

We give the guns & politics a rest - "Mad Max - Are you still with your lady?" He's been dating the same gal for years, but they've never married - "Yeah, she's still around. We haven't killed each other yet." -- "When are you going to officially make her Mrs. Mad Max?" Every time I ask he says the same thing - "Why go and fuck things up by getting married? If it ain't broke don't fix it." He's been married a time or two - "It made me gun shy after the third one went sour on me. The last thing I need is a fourth ex wife. The gal I'm with now shares the same philosophy as me. So it works well."

Our time comes to a close, but not before he gives me one last bit of his craziness - "I know all the prepping I do for the collapse is a big joke to you." He's a 'prepper' - For those of you not familiar with the phrase - Look it up - "But I am here to tell you boy. When the shit house catches fire, and it will, I will be the one who survives. You and all the other masses will be the first to capitulate." I've heard his spiel before, so I interrupt about a third of the way through - "I got to go good buddy. Blue Bloods is getting ready to start." I then hang the phone up without saying goodbye.

Roxy clones & a million dollar bet...

I was telling Bute about Roxy & how great she is - "Do you want to know something?" He says with a laugh - "You don't even have to show me a picture of her. I already know a 'Roxy' type in Houston." I found what he said next intriguing - "Yeah, my buddy Ricky in Houston was dating this stripper who was dynamite. She was a nice girl as well. One time our car broke down in Sugarland and he called her and she took her kid to daycare and came and got us." I ask what became of the relationship - "Oh, you know, the stripper lifestyle finally caught up with him and he broke it off. I tell you though. He still talks about her all the time." - We chat about the weather for a minute & then he adds - "My ex wife was a 'Roxy' type as well. She liked to party and have a good time, not to mention she was a knock out back in her prime. I guess I know two girls who remind me of Roxy now that I think about it."

To my knowledge Roxy has never stripped - "It's beneath me Jethro. I am a big game hunter - stripping is for chumps," is what she always tells me -- "The best way I can describe Roxy where everyone will understand is simple," I then add with emphasis, "She is a professional plain and simple." He asks - "Do you know who is another 'Roxy' type? She's from Kansas." I never equated Roxy with a Kansas girl. Two different breeds altogether in my opinion - "The girl from Emporia that your cousin use to date. What's her name again?" He then adds with a laugh, "You know - the stripper." -- "Monica, is her name," I tell him with a laugh of my own, "Now that I think about it I do see some Roxy in her. That's an interesting observation buddy. I had forgotten about her."

We change the subject to college basketball - "There's a guy out here named Derek Stevens. He owns the D on Fremont. He bet twenty five thousand on Michigan at 50-1. If they win he cashes a cool million. Think about it for a minute - a million dollar payday is something to brag about, even for a guy like him." Bute cashed an eight grand ticket when Houston won the series - "I damn near had a heart attack with eight grand on the line. To think this guy is in line for a million dollar payday if they win...Whewww...that's a lot of money." Mr. Stevens didn't get the win he needed. I'm pretty sure he will be okay.