It's Crazy I ReallyOught to give'm Up

I remember my first encounter with “Biker’s” was in or around 1969 as I recall I was around nine years old at that time. "The Crew" and I were meandering down the railroad tracks throwing stones at the factory windows pushing each other around, goading each other on about one thing or another trying to out do one another, as we always did. Riding the freight cars as they rolled down the track, running up and down the tops of the freight cars that were bound for all over the continent bound for who knows where. We certainly were “Adventurers” in our own minds back then to say the least and foolish about the risks we took more so, as I now look back at it. The “Crew” consisted of Skippy Anderson, Wob, Shzzam and Nardo just to name a few, however there were probably a few more kids there I just can't recall. Nardo, who was several years older than most of us, had brought a couple of cigarettes along that he had ripped off from his older sister Sylvia's stash (Vava, va Voom that is what we called her when Nardo wasn't around) . Never smoking before and knowing that I could get in to deep trouble “if” I had ever gotten caught, I was in there like a dirty shirt man. Thats just around when Nardo also mentions the fact that he had cigarettes, however he had, NO, matches. Great, just picture it, several kids all huddled between freight cars, already to take a puff off this stogie for the first time ever, and not a one of us has a match. I distinctly remember the degree of dissention that took place amongst us upon our most recent discovery of not having a light for this butt and the clamor and chatter that went on until eventually someone some smart kid mentions that they had passed the “Biker’s house” on their way to meeting us at our location and that there were a bunch of “Biker’s” outback of what was later deemed "The CLUB HOUSE", all drinking and smoking and that they thought that if any adult was to give a kid a light for a smoke it would be a “Biker” as they had this distinct reputation of being real rebellious, that is what our folks always said anyways. Isn’t that odd, hmm I was always known and described by my parents as being somewhat rebellious myself. Isn't it funny how birds of a feather eventually flock together. Well you could guess who was elected to go ahead with the approach due to just such a reputation. The act seemed perfectly reasonable to me at the time, especially after all the coaching that I had received for at least an hour before hand from my own intentuis “Crew” You know the ones that were supposed to be looking out after all, my, best interests. Anyways, I remember slowly approaching the back yard through the long grass moving toward the tall wire fence where, sure enough, there they were alright, there where a whole bunch of pretty hard tough scary looking people partying and carrying on just like that kid said that they would be. I no sooner got to the fence and I was wondering what the f… I was going to say once I got there when all of the sudden I heard this angry loud voice hollering at me, and the voice says, “Hey what the fuck are you doing there kid?” I froze right there man and I am sure I looked as white as a sheet standing there and I certainly remember I was just about to crap my pants right then and there. I managed to spit out or at least mumble the words, “I was wondering, well if you had a light for my Umm smoke" I said. This grumpy hard voice yells at me again and say’s “come here kid” as he walks hastily toward the fence. I just stood there as he approached. As if my feet could move anywhere’s anyways. I was so f..king scared. When he got to the fence he said, “who are you kid and what’s your name? Are you from around here?” I again, in a mumbled voice said my name. “Come here kid,” he said, “give me that smoke I ‘ll give you a light”. Of course I handed him my smoke through the fence right away. I was going to do, whatever this guy said, as he looked like if I didn’t do as he said, he was going to rip my head off and eat me for breakfast. I mean this guy looked like he ate nails for a snack. I will never forget what that guy looked like, he was sure some ugly and looked like one hard looking son of a bitch. Anyways, he takes the smoke from me, pulls out a Zippo lighter, puts the smoke in his mouth, draws the flame up to cigarette and looks at me through the bellowing smoke between the fence and I, with the smoke curling around this mean stern looking stare says “Kid don’t you know smoking is bad for you! Now get the f..ck out of here and don’t let me see you smoking around here again or I will kick your f…ken ass”.

Now I didn’t know it way back then, but I have since learned and now understand that, even though that tough old bastard ripped me off (I was just a kid), he was really just telling me the way it was and that he really was just trying to save a kid from having to try to quit someday as he so often tried to do himself so many times in his life, as I had later learned.

You see, I met that scary old bastard in my travels and adventures later on in my life. His name was Chris. They called him “Crazy Chris” and he was a well-known tattoo artist who in my world, had great insight. Don't get me wrong he was no angel or anything but hopefully something good can come out of something so sad. Chris unfortunately, later on in his life after a long and arguous struggle, circummed to the Grim Reaper lung cancer. I will always remember Chris. Gone but not forgotten

Hindsight seems to always be 20, 20 doesn’t it.

I really ought to give the dam things up!!!



See you on the other side someday Brother

MTD