THE DOVE PIMP
by
Anthonystjoseph
So let me tell you about this Dove issue I
have… I sold my home a few years ago and
just decided to travel the country and write.
I was tired of the tread mill of work and not doing what my heart
desired; which was write and write only.
So I settled in this Mexican Village a year or so ago just to
concentrate on the writing. I call it a
small Mexican Village because it is quaint and most importantly very small
compared to what I’m used to. The milk
cartons at McDonalds in this town say ‘Leche’ (meaning ‘milk’ in the Spanish
language) and half of my movies on Netflix are made in Latin Countries and
spoken in Spanish. Now I speak Spanish
to a certain point but when the guy who works at your local Walmart doesn’t
speak English; I feel you have the right to say you live in a Mexican Village.
Now the village isn’t that small; as in
they have every fast food restaurant you can imagine, a Red Lobster (one), a
JCPenny, Sears, Dillard’s, and I think I saw a Macy’s in the small mall that
I’ve never been too. I refuse to go to
their version of a mall because I don’t want to break down in tears crying over
the fact that this is what they consider a mall… I mean I’ve shopped in New York, Los Angeles,
San Francisco, San Diego, Germany, Egypt, etc.…, I cannot bear to go into their
small mall and get the overwhelming depression that would inevitably set in
considering the kids that have to grow up in such a condition of
depravity.
So anyway, I settled in this small village
to just concentrate on my writing. I
leased a two bedroom condominium with cathedral ceilings, I always need
cathedral, I’m very tall. The front
patio is surrounded by huge six foot brick walls covered in stucco. So these doves like to perch on top of these
walls and then start their cooing that reminds one how closely related they are
to that ‘rat of birds’ called the pigeon!
Well, if I have my front windows or my front door open, these first
cousins of the rat bird the pigeon
cooing will reverberate through my whole condo with its high ceilings which
seem to amplify said cooing. It drives
me crazy! It is so loud with the echo
effect of my high ceilings that you can even hear it over the television. Based on the loudness of their cooing I can
tell you exactly where they are on my front wall.
So I had to spend a while training them
that this is not their home and they are not on the lease! Well one day, the mama dove who had been
training her daughter or son dove about their favorite spot and has gotten
tired of me running her and her kids off comes back to perch! But this time she comes back with ‘back
up’! I walk out because I hear the
cooing and this time she doesn’t fly off!
This hoe stares me down! And then I see she has what looks like a dude
dove standing next to her. I’ve never
seen him before but he has a real ‘f-you’ look on his face and he’s clearly eye
balling me! I think I see a knife strapped
to him under his wing! I try to shoo ‘em
off and they just stand there; she looks like she’s about to fly off and I
swear the ‘dude dove’ tells her, “Don’t go nowhere hoe, I got this!”
Now I happen to have this rare ability to
talk to animals; I know, I know; it’s a curse and a blessing. So this dude
dove looks directly at me with one eye, because you know they only have one
eye on each side of their head, and he says, “Listen you raggedy Negro! My hoe’s been working this fence since before
you got here and my family has owned this corner for ten generations since this
place was built!” I look at this ‘Pimp Dove’ and cannot believe he thinks
he’s a match for me, ME! But for some strange reason he is curling the
hairs on the back of my neck. We stare
each other down like were both in some sick Quentin Tarantino horror film and
he doesn’t budge. I decided this called
for a new tactic.
I use my quick thinking and go back into
my house and get my broom! I run outside
my house and head for the fence; I charge at the dove hoe and the dove pimp with all my ‘crazy’ on full
blast for extra effect and the pimp loses all of his resolve and takes off
quicker than his hoe! Just like a pimp;
left his hoe in the lurch. His punk butt
reminded me of the ‘Pink Pimp’ in St. Paul, Minnesota where I grew up. The ‘Pink Pimp’ was a famous pimp in St. Paul
who drove a pink Cadillac, wore a pink suit, and a pink hat with pink
feathers… He just disappeared one day; he
was all talk, most likely went to jail…
Anyway, this dove pimp flew off so fast trying to get away from this crazy Negro
with a broom that I couldn’t help but laugh.
And let’s just keep this part between me and you; I think I heard him
call me the N-word, not Negro, the N-WORD!
But I did hear him tell his ‘dove hoe’, “I think you’re going to need to
find another corner babe. And don’t
think I’m going to cut your feed quotas for my babies. We got to keep it moving babe; you know I
love you, now get to work and find me another corner.”
Sometimes I wonder if these doves are
trying to torture me for all the doves I killed as a kid with my Benjamin
Franklin 22 Caliber Pellet Gun. Yes, I
have a colored past which you will read about here shortly in one of my memoir
excerpts that I will publish here soon.
I killed so many birds as a kid with my pellet gun until I killed that
one Raven… Wow, I will remember that raven
my entire life; he was so big, so majestic.
And then when I found out later in life that Ravens were monogamous, it
broke my heart!
Now days, when I hear the cooing of one of
these first cousins of ‘rat’ birds, all I have to do is walk out of my front
door and they see me and take off. Every
now and then they force me to get the broom to just check and see if my crazy
is still on… But I got ‘em trained. This is
my world.
I once went
on a white water rafting trip with some of my fellow Cadet Candidates from West
Point’s Preparatory School and had the greatest time of my life. Navigating the swiftly flowing waters in the
rapidly moving river through the rocky and narrow turns with my friends was an
amazing adventure. We were all in our red
wet water suits with black trim and yellow wet water gloves while the rapids
were just dangerous enough to not let you think you were in trouble but at the
same time led you to believe that you were conquering the world, and I
was! At a certain point the rapids got so
intense as I saw a group of people out of the corner of my eye on some rocks on
the shore of the river just watching us.
The fun I was having was so great and needed to be shared! I looked directly at the people on the rocks
and raised my hand covered in its bright yellow wet water glove high in the air
and waved at them with the biggest smile; comfortable in the fact that my friends
and I were handling the waves.
When we got to the end of the rafting
trip; everyone at the cabin where all the rafters met to turn in their gear continually
smiled at me and laughed and said, “You’re that guy!” I had no idea what they meant or what they
were talking about; with adrenaline rapidly flowing through my veins I just
smiled back at them, I mean, people have been saying ‘you’re that guy’ my whole
life. Finally my group of friends and
rafting buddies came to a room where they had ‘pictures of each rafting group’
that had come down the river on display for purchase and a token of remembrance
of each rafting groups trip. I looked up
past all the smiles from the staff in my direction and saw my rafts
picture. There ‘I’ was in this picture
with my friends in our raft navigating the rough rapids. As ‘my friends’ faces were knee deep in
struggle and partially covered by splashing water while oaring through the
rapids, I was the one high above their heads with my long arm stretched to the
heavens waving at the camera with the biggest smile on my face and a huge
yellow glove, my glove, stealing the entire picture as I shone with glee. My friends all said to me, “Way to steal the
moment Anderson!” (we went by our last names in prep school) I said ‘what?’ as I looked at the picture
which highlighted me and me alone, again I smiled. I was just waving, smiling, and saying high
to some strangers on a rock! I did not
see any camera at all; but here again, the camera always seems to find me.
And once again, don’t hate the player, hate the game; this is my world!
Anthonystjoseph
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