Everyone is my buddy…
Well, almost everyone is.
My nephews are my buddies. YOUR nephews are my buddies.
Little kids in public spaces are my buddies.
Little kids in public spaces who behave like incorrigible
little shits? Still my buddies.
Big dogs are my buddies.
Little dogs are my buddies.
Old men playing chess at McDonalds at 11am are my buddies.
My own granddaddy was my Buddy, and everyone called him just that.
My own dog responds to “Buddy” as much as he does “Bruiser.”
The last thing I say leaving my house every morning is “bye Buddy, see ya later”
and his response is as priceless now at 8 years as it was when he was 8 weeks
I randomly high-five 3 year olds in Wal Mart who elatedly
grin when they hear a large black man smile and say “high five, lil buddy!”
Parents love it too.
I guess you could say I use the word “buddy” a lot with the
people I come into contact with. And I
am okay with that.
A little angry at the world in general because shit ain’t quite working
out to be just what I feel like it should be.
All I can do is work toward making what I want of the world, I guess.
Luckily for me I glean entertainment from the world around me most of the time
and I have a network of people who are full-on invited to GET mad at me, but
none of them can really STAY mad at me.
That said, I got a phone call…
Wait, before you hang up on me man.
You Still mad at me?”
Me: “Why the shit would I be mad at you, Marlon?”
You went to pretty extreme lengths to get me back for that dough I costyou last time we spoke.”
I guess for that I could see myself still mad. BUT! I
think I have exacted the lesson you needed to learn.”
Marlon: “Cool, because I kinda missed coolin’ out
Me: “Whoa, Marls… You been in prison or something? I ain’t living like that. I am pretty much married now.”