I'm venting

Lee has been 100% reflective of these trying times. A few weeks ago his buddy, T for short, came by and told Lee that his wife was in the hospital for a chronic breathing problem and she had to quit smoking. T is an undaunted, life smoker, and at anytime he has a cigarette in his hand and at least one unopened pack in his breast pocket. He carries a pistol, uses only cash, and went to jail for his involvement in a cock fighting ring. A tough type of man who I was shocked to discover was married.

Lee was upset by the news and vowed to T that he was going to quit smoking. When he was recounting this tale to me he explained that she wasn't going to make it if she couldn't quit smoking, and that the doctors wouldn't even treat her if she continued. I asked if the doc had prescribed patches to help her quit, and Lee said; "Oh yeah, T said he give'er th' reel strong wuns an put 'em all over her back" He motioned helplessly towards the sky, then put his hand to his forehead, shaking his head. Lamenting about how though he had only met her once, she seemed like a nice person and she had a really nice car that she made payments on "ever'month on time" and was real good to T. Then in a defeated kind of voice he said, "so Jill since I'm quittin an'all lemme get a few uh them Camels" I said "But you are quitting, right?" Angrily he boomed back in a condescending draw, "Yeah that's what I'm a'sayin! I'm tryin' t'quit but I've been smoking since I was a kid probably forty years so's I can't just stop! Ya can't just stop when you been smokin that long Jill!"

I reluctantly gave him one cigarette and told him he could get some patches. He tried to be appreciative of the single I had given him and chuckling said "I figure I can get me one [cigarette] here er there an use 'at cigarette money tuh get an extra bag uh gange an uh pint more uh t'at moo moo ever'month!"

The next evening he came over while we were eating dinner. We were having spaghetti and meatballs and I was having a glass of wine. Lee entered carrying a paper package like a pizza and he had a huge knife in his back pocket. The first thing that he said (yelled) was "Oh hell! Jill's already on the alcohol! DAYYAM!" Laughing loudly as his eyes darted around the kitchen, I told him that he could have a glass of it if he wanted and aimed him toward the box that it came in. "naw thanks you know I can't drink 'at red wine. I gotta have my moo moo! (laughter) At'stuff gives me heartburnacid'n'digestion. Caint drink it. What I'gotta have is that good, clean moonshine my cussins make" Lee then brought the paper bag carefully up to face level and said "All right now guess what I've brought chall! Don't chall never say I don't bring yuh nuthin cuz I do. You know I've been helpin' feed them kids" With a Vanna White-esque motion he waved his hand over the package, then inserted it into the bag. With a shaky hand he removed a frozen key lime pie and honked a noise alerting us of a prize being won. Fox immediately asked if it was chocolate, and after learning it wasn't he said; "you can have that icy pie cause I like chocolate pie".

Never being a big fan of non-chocolate desserts myself either, I said "hmm. Thanks Lee" Very animatedly Lee pulled the butcher knife from his back pocket, put the pie on the table in the middle of our supper, and hacked it in two, returning part into the mystical paper bag. Glancing down at my children Lee asked "Hey Jill where you keeping those things?" He then started feeling around above the hutch to the secret place I stash my smokes. I shot him a dirty look as he took a handful of cigarettes and stuffed them into his pocket. Fox said "what was that Lee??? What did you take??" Lee laughed and acted like he was some sort of magician and said something like "Oh hell Foxy you can't get by old Lee, hehehe!! You ain't seen nothin did'ge? You'll NEVER get one by me son!"

I didn't try to hide my annoyance with him; Lee is well aware that I hide my smoking from my children, and that I usually have a pack for a month, smoking only if they're not around. He smokes the shittiest, dirtiest, hand-rolling tobacco available, and he smokes constantly. He has zero tact about taking other people's cigarettes and I've watched him smoke twelve out of a woman's pack while she wasn't paying attention, then take the remaining one when he left. Jason admitted that he had given Lee cigarettes a few times over the past week. He said that the first few times he offered him one which he immediately smoked as he and Jason were talking, then asked for "one more for th'road", which Jason obliged, for some reason. Then later when Lee outright insisted on his giving him 2 Jason refused and tried to explaining that he was smoking more of my stash than I was. Jason said Lee was indignant and insinuated that we were being stingy then tried to recount all of the blessings he had bestowed upon us. Jason stopped him and told him that he had bought that pack two weeks prior for almost six bucks and that I had only smoked three of the whole pack. He then held the pack to show Lee that there were four or five left and clarified that Lee had smoked them all. Then reminded him that he was supposed to be quitting. In honor of T's wife.

A few days ago Lee walked across the street and threw a filthy laundry basket into my yard. "Here ye go Jill! I thought you cud'use a basket for warshin' all them clothes. I had sum bike motor parts in'thar an that's what that is. Oil. Jus needs tuh be warshed out"

I told him that I owned four (non-oily) laundry baskets and I didn't need that one. He ignored me and walked off so I put it into my recycling bin so the kids didn't touch it and get even oilier. A few days later I noticed Lee had removed the basket from the recycling bin, fashioned it into a basketball goal and attached it to a tree in his yard. He had also taken a few loads of gravel from our parking area and leveled the area beneath the goal, and taken a few loads of mulch from our mulch pile for the surrounding area. When I returned from the YMCA he had dragged an old piece of linoleum to cover the mulch and gravel, and was standing there bouncing a ball, proud as hell.

We got out of the car and Lee said "Look'et whut I done! This is whar' th'NBAs is gonna be yall!" The kids looked at Lee bouncing the ball and shooting for a while. Fox retrieved the ball for Lee a couple of times before it rolled down our road, then said "Look Lee! The ball will roll all the way down the road when you miss"

Later that day Lee had gathered some cable left in the ditch by the telephone company and made a zig-zagged barrier just behind the goal post. When Fox saw it he was thrilled. "Nice halloween decoration Lee!! It needs a big black spider in the middle of it and a mummy!", Fox yelled. By this time Lee had begun to think he was being made fun of by a child and started for the ball. Fox was singing "spider man, spi-der man" to the tune of the A-Team song, and climbing on the cord mesh, tight rope style. "Foxy git'off thare! Aat's all th'wire I could find down thar an if you break it AIT'S IT" At that moment the volleyball sized knot Lee had tied slipped and Fox tumbled onto the cushy linoleum pad. The tension in the web was lost, shitty cords draped lifelessly around the trees.

Lee had began yelling and continued through the course of the spectacle; total devastation crusted on his face, and seemed ruined as Fox pulled his shoe off to free himself of the cable. "Say you're sorry Fox" I ordered. "Sorry Lee. I can help you fix it cause I've got seven bungee cords and some of mom's yarn", Fox offered, then sprinted away. Lee couldn't remain angry.

Here's a super spooky picture:

Leesearch

Ever since we told Lee that I was expecting he has sorta disappeared. I still saw him around, but he was definitely keeping a distance from me and Fox during the day. Peace settled into my yard, and I relished my newfound ability to exit my home without facing an emotionally charged monologue about flying helicopters in Naam. He did flag me down one day as I was pulling out of the driveway; he handed me a change purse full of pennies and asked if I would go to the tobacco shop to get him a pack of Red Cap tobacco. I asked "Red Hat"?, and he turned and yelled;

"CAP, RED CAP, not hat, CAP"

as he pantomimed putting on and removing a hat. Other than that one occasion I hadn't encountered him on a conversational level in weeks. This all ended yesterday.

Fox and I were outside playing in the yard when I noticed smoke billowing into the tree tops around me. Since Fox has really made progress with mastering a bic lighter, and since the smoke was so near I figured Fox was responsible for the fire. I hopped up and assumed my "angry face", heading towards where Fox was huddled, and realized that he hadn't started a fire. I peeked over the shrub and saw Lee fanning a massive pile of leafy brush with a piece of poster board. It was popping and snapping, emitting opaque smoke which spanned the entire street, but was concentrated in Lee's immediate vicinity. It looked like he was in music video.

He did the thing where he just starts talking as if you were already engaged in conversation, and I smiled and nodded to keep up. I realized that he was inviting me to his house to see a clock he made out of a sprocket and beer caps. Fox was going nuts trying to get into the fire, so I pulled him away and into Lee's house to see his creation. Basically, Lee had bought a clock, removed the hands and attached them to the center of a bicycle sprocket. Sorta like this:



First he showed me the sprocket clock, then he called attention to the "parts" clock which he had painted hands onto the face frozen at 4:20. He was equally pleased with that clock.

We left his house and Fox and I returned to playing, and Lee to burning green branches.

A few minutes later Lee returned and asked me if Jason had ordered a book for him. I asked him about the book, and he told me it was written by a woman named Moore, and it was about her pictures of mystical orbs. I told him that I would look it up for him.
I was about to use that as an excuse to go inside for a while when he abruptly asked me another research related question.

"Did'jew listen to that Coast to Coast radio show last week? Tha'n bout th' Trixters?"

I had no idea what the hell he was talking about, so he started telling me about it.

"See they had dis guy on ere as uh guest name Chris O'Connor, or Chris O'Neal er somethin, but he got on the air an started a'makin fun uh me! Back in the 80s he was lookin' for all th' Ghost Dancers an Skin Dancers out west and he ask me t'take em, so I told em that I would do th' Ghost Dance an he could see for himself, but all he wanted t'do was all this decibel stuff with recorders an stuff. Ye'know he was like one uh these professor types not wantin' t'do the work jus wantin' tu write some big book! So I told em that I'd take him to meet some shamens and medicine men an he was givin' me a hard time, a callin' me a shafe shifter an some kinda weekend warrior an got mad an so I said "fuck this" so I went t'town tu that Goodwill store an bought $50 worth uh stuff: I got sum deer antlers an clear packin'tape an plastic wrap, so I put flour in th'plastic wrap an put it over my face real tight, an taped them antlers to my head, and got this piece of blue fabric wrapped'round my shoulders. See, I waz tryin' t'camoflage in with th'storm an fog. Then I got up on his roof with a brick on a rope an started walkin 'round the roof lettin' that brick bounce on the wall, then I stuck my head in his window an scared him so bad he come running naked out into the snow. I figgured that'n needed t'be scared."

I was thoroughly confused as to how this had anything to do with the radio show, and I asked;
"So the guest on the show talked about you on air"?

Lee excitedly replied
"Hell yeah he did! He was callin me all sorts uh shit some kind uh 'shafe shiffer' weekend indian! He was pissed off an all I was tryin t'do was help em out! After we wuz there I took em up Arizona where them people were diggen in walls makin houses, called 'cwiff dellers' er sumthin. Back when I wuz workin in commercials an TV an stuff I did all kinds uh shafe-shiptin' an was turnin into animals an doin photoshoots
an all. Hell! You SEEN one of um when I wus turned to a wolf! Remember that magazine ad I showed you? I done that an I done a car commercial as a bear that breaks in th' car an eats th' doughnuts...I don't like doin' it much though.
But I need you t'get on th'internet, look up google, an punch in Coast to Coast, and Trixters, an see if you can't get that episode loaded on a CD for me cuz I need t'listen to it again."

I was itching to go inside, so I acted real urgent-like about it and told him I'd check it out pronto:
The Tricksters - Shows - Coast to Coast AM

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I haven't had the time to listen to the stream yet, but I'm really looking forward to
putting the pieces together. I looked up the book he was referring to and this is the author, Rochelle Moore:







I'm not sure what it all means, but Lee is definitely into the mystical realm of existence. If I can pin down which book he is interested in, and it's available on Amazon I will definitely get it.

Lee cracks me up so much! He is always asking me to search for bizarre stuff on the internet for him, and he scours the South Knoxville library's adult non-fiction section, which probably consists of fewer than a few thousand books.

meat market

Last week while weeding my flower beds my neighbor, Lee approached me with a cup of coffee and a hand rolled cigarette.
Without hesitation he made a proposition;
"how about you drive me downtown to the butcher so I can get one uh them freezer economy packs with my guv-mint card?"
Not knowing what the hell he was referring to, I asked him when he wanted to go, and that I could take him as long as he didn't mind going by Big Lots, too. He said as long as he got there before three it would be fine, so I told him that we could leave as soon as I got fox ready.
We drove straight to the butcher shop in downtown Knoxville, and Lee insisted that I come in and bring Fox. He loves going places with Fox and I. He always acts like he is helping us out in some way, as if I am a poor, single mother without a job or a family... Considering the situation I figure there's no harm in letting Lee pretend some, and it is always interesting to read peoples expressions when we walk into an establishment.
We waited for the butcher to assemble the order, then as Lee was preparing to pay, he asked the clerk to to "sell me a quarter uh 'at souse"
I casually glanced down to the giant souse log in the glass covered cooler, and before the man could lift it onto the slicer I spied the main ingredient. Pig snouts.
The man behind the counter asked him how thick he wanted it cut, and Lee gestured holding a pack of saltines which conveyed everything the man needed to know. He then asked if he wanted it in a "sack", but Lee declined as he planned to eat it in the car.
I gathered Fox back into his car seat and started to pull out of the place, when Lee immediately started directing me to "stay right here in the shoulder!! It ain't really a sidewalk, it's like a drivin' shoulder"
Since I had eyes and could see that it was, in fact a sidewalk; complete with an eight inch elevation above the road, drainage grates and crosswalks, I declined to drive on it and just waited my turn to pull onto the busy city street. Lee tsked in disapproval.
Sitting in the passengers seat, Lee prepared his snack, and holding out a piece of sliced souse, ordered me to take some. He said "here! eat dis!"
As he was holding that thick slice of particle meat so close to my face, I was able to see the sun shining through it's mosiac-like constitution, like a greasy stained glass window for a tiny meat house.
I tactfully declined since I had eaten just before leaving the house.
Lee skeptically asked if I had ever eaten souse before, and I told him that I had plenty of times as I crossed my fingers.
We headed to the produce stand where we purchased a 50lb bag of potatoes and a 25lb bag of onions which I bought since the business no longer accepts "food stamps cards", and Lee insisted that we would split it all up.
So now I have enough onions, potatoes, and various meat cuts to last months. If there is any souse in there I will give it to Jason and tell him it's pate.
My friend Brad is going to pen a comic about Lee.

6/1/2008 Liquor-cycle

A few weeks ago Lee asked me to take him down the road to pick up a rug he saw on the side of the street. Being an active scavenger, I had already seen the rug in which he spoke days before. Two thunderstorms before. He acted like there was a big rush on going and getting the thing so I buckled Fox in, then jumped in the car, making myself 100% available and determined.
We drove at breakneck speeds to the curb where the rug was discarded and Lee gave me explicit directions about positioning my car for an optimal getaway. We both jumped out of the car; I opened the back of the truck and he hoisted the rug onto the bed. As we closed the hatch and jumped back into the cab another car pulled up. It seemed as if they lived in the house and were trying to pull into the driveway that we were blocking with our creative parking. After our doors were secured I gassed the engine, spinning gravel across the yard and accelerating towards our street.
Lee was invigorated.
"Did yew see that guy comin in-a-tryin te get ire rug?!"
Unwilling to share my downer perspective I said "Yeah! We DOGGED that jerk!"
We continued down the street with the rug in stow when Lee remarked
"Ats a nice rug. Uh hunderd dollar rug. It smells a little like cat urine, but I know a way tuh get rid uv it. What cha do iz take bakin soda an crushed up cloves an sprinkle em all over the thing with uh little alcohol; leave it for half hour, then clean it with detergent."
At this point I had already lowered all windows in the truck due to the oppressive smell. Willing to believe Lee's folk remedy I concentrated on getting home asap.
When we got back to Lee's house we pulled the rug out onto the dirt driveway and he proceeded to gather the elements needed to de-funkify the rug.
Approaching the rug with scientific rigor, he nodded in my direction while extending a five dollar bill.
"Thanks for goin on a run, girl. I'm gonna clean this thing up".
The rest of Lee's afternoon was spent multi-processing the rug with every chemical in his cupboard.
I decided to go to the grocery store and when I got back into the car it still smelled of cat urine.
This weekend my sister in law came into town to spend some time with us and the boy. She took Fox to the park while Jason and I cleared brush and overgrowth from our extra lots.
Lee appeared and asked about what we were doing and where was my truck.
I explained that Cassie had taken my truck to the park because it had the child safety seat installed in it, and that she and Fox would be back pretty soon.
Lee said "I went to a yard sale of a guy who has yard sales all summer long an he had this bike I wont"
I asked if we could bungee it to the top of my truck and he explained;
"hit aint that kinda bike, girl! Its one of em pedal-motor bike scooters! I don't even need to get a title for it or nuthin!"
I asked if he thought if it would fit in the back of my truck, and he said it would.
As soon as Cassie and Fox returned Lee and I headed out to the man's house to get the liquor-cycle.
We pulled up and Lee went up to knock on the door. No one answered.
He tried the side door, then the garage door.
The man told Lee that someone had already bought the thing and that he should have just bought it when he came earlier.
On the drive home I told Lee that I was sorry that he missed out on the bike, and he said "Hell! Don't be sorry! Alls that means is that some other guy has to do all that work!"
I figured that was the best attitude he could have had.
Instead of accepting our mission as a failure, Lee asked me to drive "on up ere to th' liquor store". He told me of a wonderful drink he made when he was a bar tender in the tropics (the movie "Cocktail" was based on this time period in Lee's life) involving cream an vodka. Suspecting White Russians, I willingly proceeded to the store and waited in the car with Lee's open container hidden in the floorboard.
We returned home and Lee disappeared into his kitchen while Cassie, Jason, Fox and I ate a wonderful meal together. Before we were finished eating Lee was at our door instructing us to come over and "getcha uh drank".
We told him we would come over as soon as we got Mr. Fox to bed, but that wasn't soon enough for him. He brought the whole affair over to our porch, complete with shining, new high ball glasses, and an insulated carafe full of the concoction.
As I had hoped, he had prepared White Russians. It was then that I made a strong connection between Lee and Jeff Bridges' character in the Big Labowski, "The Dude". The White Russians, the peed on rug, the love of leisure sports.
Lee is a cross between 'The Dude', and 'Beetlejuice'.