Homeless Hall of Fame
Ole Burkey Bear is coming apart at the seems.
Yes, it’s finally happening. Since it’s long been the aim of the bearded man to spread joy around the Philadelphia Area, I’m going to focus on the positive things that have happened to me recently. I’ve gotten a new nickname and made a new friend in Hellboken. I don’t know his name, but we call each other “Accelerator.” So far, pretty awesome. He’s homeless, and totally bat shit out of his mind. I was walking home from my waitering job the other day when I passed him on the street and he put his finger in his ear, slammed his head into a stone building, and then screamed, “ACCELERATOR!!!” I looked at him, and said, “accelerator?” and he screamed it even louder. Kind of like in West Side Story, when that guy meets the Spanish broad and sings that song, “Maria,” except, Accelerator. And I think he’s American Indian. I immediately accepted him into my homeless hall of fame, the roster of which looks something like this:
Point Guard: The Accelerator.
Shooting Guard: This guy I saw in NYC three years ago, who was playing an upside down bucket with two sticks. He did this without skill or any rhythm, but a passion that I’ve only heard about in Bible Stories. When he was done skillessly pounding his bucket, he smashed a dinner plate with his stick, so as to end with a flourish.
Small Forward: Zig a Zig- In the restaurant I work in, there’s a guy who everyone calls Zig a Zig, because he says Zig a Zig at the end of all his sentences. Also, he has six teeth. He sounds like a character, so I introduced myself to him and he said, “who the hell are you?” and I said, “I’m Zig a Zig Junior,” to which he replied, “go wait in the girls bathroom, and don’t come out for twenty minutes, zig a zig.” I’m not sure he was homeless, because he was pounding drinks at 3 O’clock in the afternoon, but he and I had one of the greatest conversations of all time, so he’s in the Hall.
Power Forward: The Troll guy who guarded the bridge in and out of Manayunk
Center: The Michael Jordan of the Homeless is a woman who I always saw in Philadelphia. She weighs around 300 pounds, plays a recorder like in second grade, and wears a plastic pitcher around her waist. Also, she has one of those change makers that those guys who work in arcades have. She clearly has a sense for the dramatic, as well, because she was at the bike race playing her recorder.
It has long been my dream to round up all these people and start a band, with NYC guy on drums, the fat lady on horns, the Accelerator as the lead singer, and the Troll on bass. Zig a Zig, I think, would be too prideful to join my band.
It occurs to me that the most fun I’ve had since I moved to Hellboken has been in the company of degenerate alcoholics and crazy homeless people. This is not a good sign.
Ole Burkey Bear is coming apart at the seems.
Yes, it’s finally happening. Since it’s long been the aim of the bearded man to spread joy around the Philadelphia Area, I’m going to focus on the positive things that have happened to me recently. I’ve gotten a new nickname and made a new friend in Hellboken. I don’t know his name, but we call each other “Accelerator.” So far, pretty awesome. He’s homeless, and totally bat shit out of his mind. I was walking home from my waitering job the other day when I passed him on the street and he put his finger in his ear, slammed his head into a stone building, and then screamed, “ACCELERATOR!!!” I looked at him, and said, “accelerator?” and he screamed it even louder. Kind of like in West Side Story, when that guy meets the Spanish broad and sings that song, “Maria,” except, Accelerator. And I think he’s American Indian. I immediately accepted him into my homeless hall of fame, the roster of which looks something like this:
Point Guard: The Accelerator.
Shooting Guard: This guy I saw in NYC three years ago, who was playing an upside down bucket with two sticks. He did this without skill or any rhythm, but a passion that I’ve only heard about in Bible Stories. When he was done skillessly pounding his bucket, he smashed a dinner plate with his stick, so as to end with a flourish.
Small Forward: Zig a Zig- In the restaurant I work in, there’s a guy who everyone calls Zig a Zig, because he says Zig a Zig at the end of all his sentences. Also, he has six teeth. He sounds like a character, so I introduced myself to him and he said, “who the hell are you?” and I said, “I’m Zig a Zig Junior,” to which he replied, “go wait in the girls bathroom, and don’t come out for twenty minutes, zig a zig.” I’m not sure he was homeless, because he was pounding drinks at 3 O’clock in the afternoon, but he and I had one of the greatest conversations of all time, so he’s in the Hall.
Power Forward: The Troll guy who guarded the bridge in and out of Manayunk
Center: The Michael Jordan of the Homeless is a woman who I always saw in Philadelphia. She weighs around 300 pounds, plays a recorder like in second grade, and wears a plastic pitcher around her waist. Also, she has one of those change makers that those guys who work in arcades have. She clearly has a sense for the dramatic, as well, because she was at the bike race playing her recorder.
It has long been my dream to round up all these people and start a band, with NYC guy on drums, the fat lady on horns, the Accelerator as the lead singer, and the Troll on bass. Zig a Zig, I think, would be too prideful to join my band.
It occurs to me that the most fun I’ve had since I moved to Hellboken has been in the company of degenerate alcoholics and crazy homeless people. This is not a good sign.
posted by Beardwell Growsmith | 11:14 AM
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