Saturday, April 28, 2007
'1993: The Year In Rock' A mix tape by Chip Kinney
I worked once again with Coup Delicious (AKA Chris Fletcher) on Friday. We set up a gig for a wedding reception at the Empire Room in downtown Greensboro and then we had something going on at Grimsley High later in the afternoon.
Coup recently had surgery and he can’t lift anything. So basically, I was his mule doing whatever he pointed out to be done. Easy work if you don’t mind the lashing.
I don’t know if it was because he was in a bit of pain or what, but he was driving me nuts. Nothing was good enough for the particular and lovable S.O.B. The thought of punching him in the area of his surgery occurred to me several times during the day. I prayed for the medicine to make him a little loopy and little less meticulous. Coup Delicious can be one helluva fussy girl.
We were fighting and arguing like a married couple. And I certainly don’t want that, because the thought of make-up sex with Coup isn’t appealing to me at all. As a matter of fact, it gives me full body shivers.
We took a quick lunch at Hardee’s on Westover and Pembroke where we were accosted by a decently dressed man looking for handouts. He was wearing Levi’s jeans, a gray T-shirt, a UNC windbreaker, and Rockport shoes. His clothes didn’t resemble any type of hand-me-downs that I had ever seen. Perhaps I was wrong, but he appeared well groomed and sober.
I told him that I didn’t have any money. I rarely carry cash because even if you’re truly down on your luck, you don’t deserve me lying to you about what’s in my pockets. One of the reasons that I carry a check card instead of cash is because I’m constantly harassed by vagrants all the time where I work. If it’s not Goatboy or Mike Klein, it’s a joker just outside our front door or down the street in front of Natty Greene’s.
The man said that he didn’t want money. He was hungry. Coup’s heart melted and he donated half of our French fries to him.
Once while retrieving the KZL Van at Natty’s for an Anniversary shindig, I was stopped by a group of panhandlers who had set up shop just across the street from the festivities. I’m sure it was like fishing the drunken guilt-stricken out of a barrel.
They gave me a sob-story (one of the more popular stories I might add) about having to stop in Greensboro because they ran out of gas and money. They were just looking for a couple of bucks in order to get back on the road.
The “mouth piece” was a man in a wheel chair covered with Veteran and POW stickers. Since I had been hit up for my money all day long, I introduced him to my breaking point…
“Please… Tell me what gives you the impression that I’m loaded with money to pass out,” I said. “Is it my torn jeans? Is it my free radio station T-shirt? Is it my worn out tennis shoes? What is it that tells YOU that I have nothing but money to give out to people that probably make more than I do in a day by doing nothing but begging?”
The guy was wheeling backwards from me slowly. He apologized and I retrieved the van.
The Hardee’s guy eventually made his way to the drive-thru to pester the patrons there. Why the restaurant allowed this individual to panhandle on their property is beyond me. And this panhandling thing is really starting to chafe my normally thick skin…
This may sound mean and insensitive, but I’m thinking of passing out a buck if they allow me one thing… Letting me deliver a punch to their stomach. If they want to make five bucks, it’s a shot to the cheek.
I’m tired of it folks. Sick and tired of it. And if this is a way to curb these mofos, then I say that we all should take my approach.
Okay… I feel like I’m fully vented now.
Coup and I reached the campus of Grimsley High School and as it turned out, the event wasn’t what I expected at all.
In my mind, I thought the event had something to do with the leaving seniors of 2007. I thought it was all about partying and tripping, or whatever the kids do these days. It wasn’t that at all… It was a ‘Save Darfur’ Rally.
I had no idea who this Darfur was or why we were out to save him or her. But I got educated real quick just by checking out the different things that the students of Grimsley were putting up around the campus.
As it turns out… Darfur is someplace in Sudan where genocide is running rampant.
It warmed my dark little heart to see all the young enthusiasm swarming around me like bees. These kids weren’t jaded and apathetic like me. They even got Olympic Gold and Silver Medalist Joey Cheek to come and address the crowd about his efforts in Chad.
I had no idea who Mr. Cheek was… I knew that he was in the Olympics and had done well, but I wouldn’t know him if he were standing beside me. I just don’t give a damn about the Olympics or the athletes that participate in the games. It’s of no interest to me.
Chris Thompson pointed him out to me and when Mr. Cheek joined the organizers onstage, he extended his hand to me with an introduction. It was the second Olympic Gold Medalist that I have ever met.
The first being Kurt Angle backstage at a WWE event at the LJVM Coliseum.
Mr. Cheek’s speech was informative and gave the idea to everyone in attendance that your voice and opinion matters. All you have to do is use it. Changes may not happen overnight, but the ball starts rolling. Feel free to read about it at the Greensboro News & Record's website.
With that being written… That’s my public service announcement of the week. And it’s about something that matters… Kristina.