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BREAKING NEWS

Tuskaloosa , Alabama


Today, an El Ectric, a foreign car manufactured in Provenza , Italy , attacked a pregnant mother of three in a parking lot at a local Wallmart.

Onlookers were horrified when the El Ectric, owned by a local Union Boss who goes by the name of Red Steinem, took off with no driver, hunting down Mrs. Calahan of Tuskaloosa.

Mrs. Calahan, a fourth grade teacher at Holy Christ School for Evangelists, was shopping, alone, at the Wallmart. Police say she had purchased some cleaning supplies and a double pack of Trojans (although the receipt did not record the Trojan purchase) and was returning to her Ford Truck, when the FOREIGN EL ECTRIC came from out of nowhere.

On lookers were horrified as they first heard the horn from this Socialist Product of the Holy See. It seemed to be playing: Ave Maria.

"Hardly a warning sound," pronounced Jezabelle Thompson, a local Tarot Card reader present at the time of the accident.

"Holy Christ!" exclaimed Ms. Thompson.."I went to that school".

Mr. Thomas Halsey of Polk Salad, a suburb of Tuskaloosa, also witnessed the accident.

"This aint no accident. This was definitely an on-purpose event. The El Ectric was goin right for the decadent. The poor lady first saw the plastic monster (you could tell this was one of them communist vehicles cause it weren't made of no steel or nothing, but plastic) and ran like the devil, first left, then right, zig a zaggin all over this here parking lot. And which ever way the lady turned, the car came a going right after her.  She was dropping those Trojan thingies all over the parking lot.  It was a real terrorism. I think Al Quaida had something to do with this."

It took only six hours for the local police with the aid of the man in charge of the electronics section at Wallmart to come to some conclusion as to what might have happened to cause this terrible tragedy.

Sergeant Rumpus of the Tuskaloosa Fire Department gave this statement to bystanders upon the conclusion of their initial investigation:

"I am Sergeant Rumpus of the TFD and I have been authorized to make this statement by the powers that be. The victim in question owned an IPOD, one of those new fangled thingamajigs from the northern parts. It appears, per the opinion of Sam Dinsmore, the former head of the electronics department at Wallmart, that Mrs. Calahan's phone was tuned to the exact same frequency of the computer that runs the El Ectric automobile. It appears that Mrs. Calahan's IPOD phone thingamajig just rang as she was receiving a call from her Aunt Nell, causing the motor on the car to start and release the brake at the same time. The car was 'notified' and simply 'followed' the IPOD, probably athinkin it was being beckoned by its Japanese uncle.

Wallmart is dropping any charges it might have against the decedent for shoplifting. No one, and I mean no one is authorized to pick up any of the materials lying on the parking lot at this time.

That is the end of this statement and I will take no questions."

Sam Dinsmore has been fired by Wallmart.



Something in the way she moves
Attracts me like no other iPhone
Something 'bout the way her phone rings
I don't wanna miss her bow
You know I'm attracted now...

Something in the way she veers
And I just have to move my steering wheel
Something in the way she zig zags
And I've got to hit her now
You know I can turn and how

You're asking me will this car go
Now you know, now you know
You get a phone call and you'll know
Yes you'll know, yeah, you'll know

Something in her Beatles ring-tone
Got me turned on and made me want her
Something in her fancy iPhone
She's scattering Trojans now
And into her I will plow

You're asking me will this car go
Now you know, now you know
You get a phone call and you'll know
Yes you'll know, yeah, you'll know

It won't be easy, you'll think it strange
When I try to explain where I was
and I still need more time to come up with a lie

You won't believe it
All you will think is I had an affair
and so I should just tell the truth
Although it is making me cry

I had to see Maria, I had to go
Couldn't stay one more day with my wife
Putting up with her anger, getting nothing but glares

So I chose freedom
Running around, flying secretly too
Neglecting my family and state
To go be with someone who cares

Chorus:

Don't cry for me Appalachia
The truth is I never hiked you
I skipped the wildflowers
Forgot the backpack
I brought my passport
And several condoms

Don't cry for me Appalachia...

(breaks off, in tears)

Have I said too much?
There's nothing more I can think of to say to you
But all you have to do is look at me to know
That every word is true

Farrah and Michael all in one day. 

Thanks to my best friend Bwakfat, I became a fan of The Decemberists several months ago.  The Decemberists hail from Portland and have been around for quite a few years, and although they have a huge following, they seem to fall under the radar when it comes to airplay and general recognition.

Colin Meloy, lead singer, writes about everything from pirates to the Civil War to Valerie Plame and the good (?) old USA.  They headlined an Obama appearance during the elections.  Their latest album, "The Hazards of Love" covers new territory in that it is a standalone folk/rock opera wherein each song leads into the next without pause.  A concept album, if you will, similar to works of Pink Floyd and The Who.

It doesn't cover any political topics, but it sure as hell rawks, and it tells a story.  I thought I'd try my hand at sharing that story with you all.

Bwakfat and I were lucky enough to get last-minute tickets to the Decemberists' production of "A Short Fazed Hovel" at Radio City Music Hall just two weeks ago, and so some of my descriptions of the story as it unfolds will include highlights from the show and its impact on me.  I hope you enjoy.

During the Prelude, in concert, the show opens with a dark stage.  Once the hum of the organ pipes up , we see Jenny Conlee standing at the organ, in silhouette.  The audience goes wild.  I imagine this happens at every show.  Eventually, Colin, Nate Query (bass) and Chris Funk (guitar) walk on stage and gather up their guitars, and drummer John Moen can be seen at the rear of the stage in silhouette with backlighting.    Also on stage, to the right, on a raised platform, are guest vocalists and performers Becky Stark and Shara Worden, who portray the characters of Margaret and the Queen, respectively.

The Prelude segues cleanly into the first Hazard of Love song (there are a total of four) wherein we meet the heroine of our story, Margaret, a fair young maiden from the village who goes wandering too closely to a magical forest, The Taiga.  There, Margaret stumbles upon a white, wounded fawn, and helps heal his hind legs, prompting him to magically transform into a human male named William.  Love ensues.  Gorgeous, heartbreaking, immediate love, which results in Margaret's pregnancy.  Having her secret discovered, Margaret flees to the Taiga, in search of her one true love.  

(Now, if you're listening to the music along with me, at this point, you'll notice that each of our players has a certain musical theme tied to their portion of each song.  This continues throughout the album, and it, to me, is a sign of pure genius in Colin Meloy's songwriting capability.  I'm just sayin'.  But, I digress.)

William sings of his love for Margaret in one of my favorite songs, The Hazards of Love (Wager All).  Meanwhile, his mother, The Queen of the magical forest, seems to sense both her son's newfound feelings of love, as well as the presence of an intruding human female, and, um, to put it plainly, the Queen ain't too pleased.  You can sense some menacing suspicion in her approach to the pleasant love scene going on between her son and this unknown human stranger.

Margaret and William are too enthralled, at the moment, to mind the Queen, however, and are singing of their love for each other and the baby they are expecting.   But William eventually hears his mother's approach, can hear her footfall in the forest, and determines to beg her for the gift of his human shape for just one more night with his Margaret.  The Queen, heavy on guilt trips, reminds him of how she found him as a babe in the reedy water and took him in and raised him as a fawn in order to save him from "the world of men" and lets him know that she damn well is not happy about his choice.  But, she eventually agrees to let him have this one last night with his love.  Don't get fooled into thinking she's some kind of softy, now, while William and Margaret share this sweet and loving interlude in each others' arms.....trust me.

Meantime -- ho ho -- there lives in the village a certain Rake, who lost his wife during one of her many childbirths and decided that being a widower with three little children really wasn't all that it was cracked up to be.  This Rake does away with the remaining children and seems to be quite alright with it, in his conscience.  Hence, the title of The Rake.  

(As an aside, this song was performed beautifully in concert.  Colin, as the Rake, had a spotlight behind him that projected his huge shadow across the wall of the concert hall, making him appear truly menacing and creepy.  Everyone else who wasn't already playing an instrument - including Margaret - stood at extra drum kits and banged the CRAP out of the drums with perfect timing -- it was awesome).  

Back to our narrative, however:  We discover that The Rake wants Margaret for his own, and he determines to steal her away, abducting her after William has apparently shifted back to being a fawn, leaving Margaret alone in the woods.  The Rake ties our poor heroine to the back of his horse and makes for the wild Annan River.

There, at the wild Annan River, which is so wild and cruel that it cannot be crossed, the Queen decides to allow The Rake to have Margaret because she was jealous of the lovely human girl and her affect upon William, and so she agrees to fly The Rake across the River so that he can have his way with poor Margaret in a cave on the other side.  

William learns of the abduction and runs to the bank of the River and makes his vow to the Annan water that, if the water will calm itself enough to let him pass to the other side, he will let it have its way with him upon his return.  The Annan River agrees, and lets him pass, this one time, so that he can get to his dear Margaret.

Meanwhile, back in the cave, The Rake is enjoying and toying with Margaret, who is silently crying out to her own dear love to please come and save her.  And that's when something really weird happens.  The ghosts of The Rake's three children whom he murdered suddenly come back to haunt him, and whether it is they themselves, or they with the help of our hero William, who do the old bastard in, I'm still not clear on.  Let's just say that justice prevails and The Rake is apparently done in.  Doesn't really matter to me who did it.

Our lovers are then reunited and make their way back to the Annan River in an effort to get back home to the Taiga.  But, alas!  Remember William's promise he made to the water?  If it let him pass once, it could have his bones upon his return......and so, as William and Margaret attempt to cross the River on a makeshift raft, they discover that they will not be able to cross, and must die here together, in each others' arms.  

(I cried throughout the whole song as they sang it at Radio City, embarrassing, but true.  It's my hope that Bwakfat didn't notice.)

I apologize for posting a completely non-political and perhaps pointless post such as this, but my love for this album and for the Decemberists and their current tour "A Short Fazed Hovel", knows no bounds.  So I thought I'd share.  I hope those of you took the time to listen to the links enjoy it as much as I do.  And may I just add that I don't think even our beloved Dickon could make up such a strange tale as this......but, then again....he has.  Heh.

Until this here place gets its own chat room, we reside here, especially on a Friday night.

All are welcome.  Just be sure to use a user name before jumping in.  Oh, and a sense of humor don't hurt either.

Much love,
Lis

Any of you who watch the front page here must realize that Josh usually takes weekends off.  And he deserves it.

This weekend, however, he has been posting like a mad man.  And I can't blame him because I'm mad too.  I think we've all learned by now that any election that goes bad and needs to be disputed can cause nothing but pain for years ever after.

So, hats off to Josh for sticking with this story, and reporting in so regularly.

Here's hoping....well, here I'm hoping.....here's hoping that elections will run more smoothly and be more fair in future.  Here's hoping Iran's people will continue to get so righteously angry, and keep their voice going loud and strong. 

No, this isn't about the differences between boys and girls, heh heh.  If you guys and gals haven't figured the differences out by now, well....

Anyway, this post is about the Boys & Girls Clubs of America.  Man, do they rawk.

My sister on Long Island is a single mom raising a wonderful and smart little girl of eight.  My sister works hard for a living and can't be home with my niece after school although she'd like to be.  So my sister enrolled my niece in the local B&GC.

Can I just say that my niece is excelling there and this program is the best thing ever??  My niece is now playing softball (and rawking it!) and is most especially enjoying the Science Club (she also excels at math, so Obama would be very pleased to know that there's at least one little girl out there who loves math and science the most out of all her classes both at school and at the Club).

My sister is fortunate enough to live in a wealthy area, and her specific B&GC gets some pretty nice donations.  It's my hope that all of them do -- or will.  The Club my niece goes to pays attention to school schedules, and will open early when school closes early.  They also provide bussing from the school to their facility, and summer courses.  A parent's dream come true, truly.

I urge all of you to look up your local B&GC and either enroll your kids in the program, or donate or volunteer.

Cute side story my sister just told me on the phone tonight:  During Science class, my niece's teacher was discussing evolution.  A little boy in the class raised his hand and announced to the teacher, "You are wrong.  My dad says that God created us."  My niece then raised her hand, and turned to the boy and politely said, "I'm sorry, but your father is confusing religion with science."

Eight years old.  Go figure.

Heh heh.....that's my niece.  Damn proud of her, too, I am.  Can you tell?

How's about some music, laughter, conversation in real time, and just a whole lotta fun with friends?

Please join us in chat.  We'd love to see you.

(Thanks to Kurt Cobain for the title of my post - RIP, man)

First, I'd just like to make clear that, in this post, I speak solely on behalf of myself.  I have many friends here, but none of them are even aware that I'm writing this post and won't be aware of it until after I've published it to my blog.

I normally do not like to call out to specific members of the TPM community in such a public manner, but because I do not have the email addresses of two certain posters by the names of Clearthinker and Newsnag, I am writing to them here.  

As many of you know, there was a bit of a brouhaha over the weekend concerning two separate blog posts, and some 'altercations' between CT, Newsnag, myself, and, others.  In one post, I jumped all over CT, and then Nag, for what I perceived to be attack behavior.  In another post, I made a reference to CT in a somewhat joking manner, and others followed suit, and CT spotted it and jumped in and there was yet another fray.

By the end of the evening, at least one other poster commented that I and my friends were displaying a clique mentality and pretty much said that it wasn't pretty.  I've been giving that a lot of thought ever since, and, looking at the whole affair from Clearthinker's point of view, and Newsnag's as well, I can see where there definitely was a pile-on, and I can say that it was very hypocritical of me to accuse CT and Nag of what I myself turned around and did in another post.

CT, you and I have chatted on at least one occasion, many months ago, and we got along pretty well.  In days past, we've managed to work out our issues over time, and it's my hope that we can do that again.

I don't always agree with your comments, nor the style in which they are written.  I think you know I'm not alone in this.  Many folks have suggested to you that you try to word your comments more carefully so as to avoid coming across as condescending.  In this particular instance, your first comment at Stilli's post, you also made it seem personal in your statement about Christians by starting out the first two or three paragraphs apparently talking to Stilli alone, and not - as you said later - to Christians as a whole.  When you start a comment to another poster with the words "You don't yada yada yada" instead of "Christians don't yada yada yada", it sounds to most of us as though you are speaking directly to the poster.  That is what made me jump into the post in Stilli's defense -- not that Stilli had ever needed my defense, as she so ably proved throughout the rest of the evening.

That's my two cents, anyway.  We can agree to disagree on your writing style and the points you make in your blogs.  But it's my hope we can avoid another evening like this past one, by being more aware of our words, actions, and mindsets - both of us.  

My sincere apologies to both of you, and to the entire reader community, for making a mess of things.  I will try to be more careful with my comments in the future, and act with more empathy as well.

Peace.
 
 

Well, I sure have learned a lot this past month.

I've learned that those I thought I trusted, I should take a second glance at.

I've learned that those I thought I loved but couldn't agree with deserve second chances.

I've learned that I was right about religion and politics all along.

I've learned that if all people listened to just one song only, this would be the song.

I've also learned that all of us here are heard.

I've also learned that all of us here are loved.  Well, okay, maybe I just learned that one on my own.

But still.

I've learned a lot.

The chat room just crashed.  Bwak and Dickday and Mum and Rowan and Ramona were all in there and suddenly....

*POOF*

It died.

For those of you who don't know the chat room, it's the place where we all hang out and talk about our lives and politics and what's happening at TPM and.....it's our second home.

I'd give you the link, but I've already provided it many a time.

And right now, the link don't work anyway, heh heh.

But for those of you who don't know how it works, I'll try to help you out.

You hit the link, and you get a screen that has a little rectangle with a built-in Mibbit nickname already there.  Now, you don't want to use that little built-in nickname, cuz it's generic.  What you want to do is type your own TPM USER NAME there instead.  And THEN hit the "chat" button.

Once you get in the room, it is scary cuz it looks like you're alone in there.  And if you come in with a mibbet generic nickname and don't talk for at least a minute, we try to help you out by telling you how to type.  But if you don't know how to go to the bottom of the screen to the long empty bar at the bottom of the page, and place your cursor there, and start typing and then hit enter, as we always instruct newbies to do, well....

Right now the chat room is down....disabled.....out of business....but usually, when it's not down, we're all friends there.  And we welcome new friends.

And....nuff said, I think.

When the link works again, I'll come back with it.  When you can join us there, please do.

Dick:
Pop.

Rummy:
War.

Karl:
Squish.

Gonzo:
Uh-Uh.

Paul:
World Bank.

Bush:
Wolfowitz!

Dick:
Pop.

Rummy:
War.

Karl:
Squish.

Gonzo:
Uh-Uh.

Paul:
World Bank.

Bush:
Wolfowitz!


All:
He had it coming
He had it coming
He only had himself to blame.
If you'd have been there
If you'd have seen it

Paul:
I betcha you would have done the same!

Dick:
You know how people
have these little habits that
get you down. Like Harry.
Harry liked to hunt birds.
No, not hunt. Pop!!
Well, I joined him this one day and
I am really irritated, and
looking for a little sympathy
and there's Harry layin' on
the lawn, drinkin' a beer and
poppin'. No, not poppin'.
POPPING!. So, I said to him,
I said, "Harry, you pop that
hawk one more time..."
And he did!

Dick:
So I took the shotgun from my aide
and fired two warning shots...
...into his head.

All:
He had it coming
He had it coming
He only had himself to blame.
If you'd have been there
If you'd have heard it
I betcha you would
Have done the same!

Rummy:
I met George W. Bush from
his dad many years ago
And he told me was serious
and we hit it off right away.
So, we started working together.
He'd talk about war, I'd talk about war,
I'd fix him a drink, and we'd laugh
like heaven in two and a half drinks...
And then I found out,
"Troop surge" he told me?
Troop surge, my ass.
Not only was he serious.
...oh, no, he had real plans.
One of those insiders,
you know. So that night
he came to visit.
I mixed him his
drink as usual.

Rummy:
You know, some guys just can't hold their Hellfire!

Dick, Rummy, Karl, Gonzo, Paul, Bush:
Hah! He had it coming
He had it coming
He took a country
At it's prime
And then he used it
And he abused it
It was a murder
And it was crime!

Karl:
Now, I'm standing in the White House
carvin' up the employees for dinner,
minding my own business,
and in storms one Valerie Plame
in a mad, mad rage.
"You been screwin' me in the papers,"
she says.
She was crazy,
and she kept on screamin'
"You been screwin' me in the papers!"

Karl:
And then she ran into my dick! She ran into my dick TEN TIMES!

All:
If you'd have been there
If you'd have seen it
I betcha you would have done the same!

Gonzo:
Mi madre and mi padre, o wherefore art thou
Mi corazons?
Yo tengo screwed up mucho big time, en cannot save
My Texan ass no more. Por favor?? Yo can only say, I do not remember
All those meetings, and what I said and what I read
And I can no longer speaka de Ingles, por favor....

Reporter:
Yeah, but did you do it?

Gonzo:
UH UH, not guilty!

Paul:
My girlfriend, Shaha, and I did this double act
and my buddy, Dubya, used to understand
us.
Now for the last number in our act,
we did these 20 financial tricks in a
row, one, two, three, four, five...
Promotions, raised salaries, back flips, flip flops,
one right after the other. Well, this one night
we are in the World Bank, the three of us,
sittin' up in an office, boozin' and havin' a few
laughs and we ran out of dough
so I went out to get some.
I come back, open the door
And there's Shaha and
Dubya talking World Domination
-without me...

Paul:
Well, I was in such a state of shock, I completely blacked out.
I can't remember a thing. It wasn't until later, when I was
reading my own Board notes, I even knew she'd gotten a raise.

All:
They had it coming
They had it coming
They had it coming all along.
I didn't do it
But if I'd done it
How could you tell me that I was wrong?

Bush:
I love Gonzalez, Wolfowitz
More than I can possibly say.
They are real fantastic guys...
Sensitive...they're pardners.
But they've been troubled.
They're always trying
to find themselves.
They go out every night
looking for themselves
and along the way
they find Ruth,
the truth,
Rosemary and Thyme.

Bush:
I guess you can say we'll break up because of artistic differences.
They see themselves as alive
and I see them dead.

Bush:
The dirty bum, bum, bum, bum, bum
The dirty bum, bum, bum, bum, bum


All:
They had it comin'
They had it comin'
They had it comin'
All along
'Cause if they used us
And they abused us
How could you tell us
That we were wrong?

All:
He had it coming
He had it coming
He only had
Himself
To blame.
If you'd have been there
If you'd have seen it
I betcha
You would
Have done
The same!

Dick:
You pop that gun one more time!

Rummy:
Troop surge my ass.

Karl:
Ten times!

Gonzo:
UH-UH

Paul:
The World Bank - the big promotion.

Dick:
Artistic differences.

All:
I betcha you would have done the same!

It's finally getting green and warm and sunny and breezy and light-rainy all around the NE part of this here country.

'Bout freakin' time.  I was beginning to think we'd just all suffer through a weird global warming crisis and never be in the same weather/time/life zone, and forever wander without knowing what season it is, other than silly season.

I also keep up with the rest of you, cuz US weather maps keep me interested.  It's always nice to know what's happening with a) friends and relatives in other states, b) weather that is gonna hit you in your ass the next day, and c) the overall feeling of how everyone's feeling.

I had a conversation in chat this week with a very lovely lady who hails from the NE but moved to CA three years ago, and she misses New England big-time.  I did too, when I lived there in California.

Same with Florida.  After living in the New England area all my life, and walking through woods that were dark and damp and lovely and sweet-smelling and my own personal playground, it was hard to live in area with no trees.....no hills......

After watching fall leaves change color and fall to the welcoming dying grass lawns and folding-up flower beds, it was hard to make the adjustment to Southern California (I still to this day capitalize that term, because so many Southern California residents stil want to secede from the State of California........and so many Northern California residents wouldn't care, lol,), yet I just remember living out there in the early 90's and seeing Orange County go bankrupt and the dot.com bubble burst.....

Keeping up with what's going on in other parts of our country help keep us united as a whole country....I don't think anyone could argue with that.

Katrina, Mt. St. Helens, the Earthquake that killed the Nimitz Freeway as we all know it, or knew it, or both.....

What goes around comes around.

So now this is Summer
and what have we gleaned?
Have we moved any closer
to just going green?

So now this is Summer
a mid-summer night's dream
the Smetana's is in Russia
and the Danube is clean

And so happy Summer
to the new and the old
I hope your lives are all happy
and you learn to type in bold

Music is a gift from our Creator
whatever the heck that is...
Happy 2009 to all of you
from your good friend Lis (rhymes with is)

Music tells a story, and so do we all.

xoxoxo,
Lis

Happy Saturday, everybody.  Bwakfat and I just made the 2 1/2 hour drive to Mum's house in PA and we're having a party!!

Please feel free to join us -- and please sign in with your TPM username.  If you do, you'll get a free beer.

(clink!)

 

 

I moved here to the poor side of Pelham about 5 years ago.  Yes, there really is a poor side of Pelham. 

Within two months, there was a shooting across the street in a building that was a bar but is now an office, thanks to the bar closing because of the shooting.

During the shooting, my exBF Billy and I were in bed and we heard these three noises that all sounded like gunfire and not backfire, so I stayed cowering in bed while Billy crawled to the window to see what was going on.  The only reason he dared to do this is because we live three stories high (well, now I only do, but that's another story) and he figured he could peek down without being seen.

He saw:  A man run out of the bar (which is now, of course, an office building) and get inside an old beat up white station wagon with a tan top, and it cruised around our corner and up our hill and was gone.  He then came back to bed and said, "I dunno what that was all about, but I wish to hell your office had never moved up here."  (I had relocated to be closer to my job).  He then proceeded to say a lot more, but I'll leave that up to you all to ponder.

The next day, the local news stated they didn't know what had happened at the bar across the street other than that it appeared to be a love spat involving a local girl and an out-of-town guy who shot another guy three times in the arm and then ran into a getaway car.

So I promptly walked over to my local police station and gave them a description of Billy's birds-eye-view of the getaway car in hopes it might help.  I then went home and told Billy what I'd done and he went ballistic and wouldn't speak to me for three days straight.  This from the man who invited three Jehovah's Witnesses in, no, sorry, they were Mormons, to talk to me about my beliefs but every time they rang the doorbell I'd send HIM down and make him answer the freaking door.  But, I digress.

So, anyway, it's now six years since I moved here to the cheap side of Pelham (yes, there really is one, trust me) and I walked tonight to my local deli at 10:30 at night cuz I know it's open until midnight, and it's a lovely warm night and I enjoyed my walk there, and I get to the counter with my goods and talk with the guy who is always, I mean always, behind the counter, and he asks how I'm doing and asks if I want my usual deal on cigs and I say no, not tonight, I have two packs already that he sold me for $5 each, cuz they treat me well there cuz I'm there every day, and then he tells me he's really tired.  So I say, "Take a vacation."  And he says, "I can't.  I work for my brother the owner and I can't take time off."  I say, "Can you find another job?" and he says, "What, with my broken English and no skills other than this?".

His brother owns the deli and they are from Yemen.  Or Yaman.  I'm still not sure, exactly, cuz I still have a hard time with his accent and mostly go by facial expressions.  He says Saudi.  I trust him.

He's learning his brother's business and running the place while his brother with the nice SUV only visits on weekends and owns the bigger deli in Mount Vernon.  He works for his brother six days a week and has no life, no wife, no nothing while he's learning the trade.  I asked him tonight, "Do you like it here in the States?".  He said "No, not really.  But life at home was no better, and here I can at least maybe learn something and get my own deli, so I work hard."

While we're talking, a girl knocks on the door of the deli.  Normally, people just swing the door open and stride in, and so we both look perplexed at her as she knocks at the door, looking in plaintively at us.  He goes and opens the door a crack and she comes in sideways through the door in a circus-like move and says, "There are kids' bikes blocking your door.  I thought you were closed."

I say good night to my cashier friend who misses his home and I start to walk out the door and sure enough, there is a little black bike blocking the door, sitting outside on an otherwise long sidewalk.  So......I push the door ALL the way open and force the bike to go scratching its way along the sidewalk in my effort.  On purpose.

And this young kid, 12?  13?  is standing next to another kid his age, and they are both standing next to an SUV occupied by two teens in their late teens, and this young kid says, "Yo, lady!  That's my bike!!!" and starts moving up to me.

I say back, "Yo, this is a doorway you're blocking!"

He says back, "Yo, I just have it parked here on the sidewalk, bitch."

I say back, "It's in my way and blocking the door of a business, kiddo." 

And then my deli counter friend peeks out and says, "She had the right."

And the kid says, "Whoa, she damaged and scraped my bike!".

And I see all his friends start getting all angry and defensive and my deli guy says, "Move on, get out of our doorway," and then he wisely goes back in his store.

Heh, I don't blame him.

So I said, "Did I damage your bike any more than it's already fucked up?  Cuz it looks pretty fucked up to me."

And the kid and his friends take a step back. 

He does dare to say, "Well, you should probably owe me something for that."

And I said, "Well you should probably leave deli doorways open to customers, friend."

And with that, I walked away.

I walked two and a half blocks home, with no interference, turning around now and then to make sure I had no one following me, and keeping my hand on my car keychain which has my alarm on it.  And no interference whatsoever.

My corner deli.  Welcome to Pelham, the first town in Westchester.  Welcome to Pelham, the northside of the tracks.  You know, the poor section.