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About Street roots. (Portland, OR) 1998-current | View Entire Issue (July 8, 2011)
street roots 12 July 8, 2011 3 ïT*Jd I' î ï T ï T h Î V j Piker By Jay Thiemeyer old sod, old toavarich, with braided beard, bone white and curdled with spit, sitting at the exit off 1-90, Rapid City flattened out congested around him going nowhere at five in the day, and him flying a sign: “will sing for money” like he was a familiar I withdrew my eyes; fa ilin g to free myself from the urgent traffic’s insistent loudness and indifference to all but itself and preservation from same: don’t bang me, I won’t bang you! what place is there in a place like that for an odd old man flying his sign, an arthritic caved-in harlequin at the exit? borderless flooding traffic flux going nowhere fast as Buddha in rags sat smiling, no one paying him no mind in the rush. \ The sun through the haze intensified the traffic’s sweating confusion at seeing this ancient free spirit sitting at the exit like a skull on the Lewis & Clark Trail which this was, this interstate concoction for the war machine for the automobile machine for the gas and oil and fast food and trucking and RV and SUVs on trailers behind the RVs machine I couldn’t see his face beneath the sombrero, not clearly. It, was imaginary to a great degree the face I remember. He looked up precisely as I passed, headed out “on the road” myself, I saw the barest crack of a smile, a wink I imagined: maybe I had known him in Charlottesville I was after all busy retracing my route of retreat from Charlottesville’s | court system to the West twenty years before, leaving Dave Kirby, my alcoholic executive officer of the hellhound squad Sf WW<*flï3BÏHîP“ Josh MacPhee ,..* 1.....' 1 """" ................... """ 111 ” ............ .... in the invisible stairwell at the high school where he’d been a hero on the gridiron till the bottle got him took him from his earlier self, him and me both, got by the same damned forever Vodka bottle. The stairwell where we hid each day to start it anew with Vodka again, managed by spare-changing the students (who gave willingly; they didn’t believe in change at that academic village) Going back over the foot steps through Huntington, Chicago, Elgar, Murdo, Missoula — heading West, always westward in a drunken tilt. I was looking for nothing, I discovered. Acceptance of nothing th^t followed, of never being there again, the twenty years or more, nor having to be. David had the strangest sombrero he wore in Virginia, hiding in stairwells and other exits availing themselves when night drew down toward dawn. And each hotheaded tightheaded morning we resumed our stealth attack on our lost lives to make sure they hadn’t gone anywhere I chose to advertise in Street Roots because I know its readers believe in helping people who are trying to help themselves. I’ve spent a number of years abusing meth and alcohol. I’ve spent half of the last 17 years clean/sober and most of it was spent inside a correctional facility in Iowa. I’ve written a book about my experiences. “1065131” by Jason Breedlove is available at Powell’s, Reading Frenzy and on Kindle. Support every persons right to ■V-tiT*- i. I* # * fresh and healthy food. Donate to Sisters O f Ihe Road through July and your donation is m atched 2 to 1—turn your $10 in to $30! Help us keep the cornbread cornin'! Thankyou from the com m unity a t Sisters O f The Road. SISTERS OF THE ROAD, /J h C k &S Www.sistersoftheroad.org 133 NW 6th Avenue in Old Town Chinatown Portland M other N ature ’ s I E arth F riendly B aby P roducts Large selection of cloth diapers & wraps, natural baby & mama care products, baby slings & carriers, organic cotton baby clothes, wooden toys, personal service 2627 SE C linton S t . 503-230-7077 j | ) j |
