Olympic Artifact

Olympic Artifact

Wednesday, January 1, 2014

The Little Demon Box

                Maybe the best fucking thing I ever got out of a computer is Pandora.
                  I was thinking of listing all the great shit I get to listen to in my cubicle in the icey wilds of the Amerikan Northwest.
                 no thinking..... just listening..... relatively easy, no hassle looking for this or that cut or record.
I go down to the little cool store down on the corner for shit and I have always just fucking dug the canned music they have, I thought it was a loop system on some tape or cable feed or another and, when I mentioned  to the Storekeeper how much I liked it he told it was Pandora.
I went over to Oakland once to see if they, Pandora that is, needed me but I went to the Weed Supermarket first and lost my memory again, couldn't fucking remember any thing for a week after that.
    My kid,a student in an Amerikan High School, has not learned any Greek Shit at all  and has no idea who Pandora is or what she's famous about.
 He won't find out from me either, because he's 15 now and knows that I am the dumbest old fuck in or out of Greece or Oregon and will not let me tell him much of anything.
Here's a typical question; "Give me twenty bucks and a ride to the Gamestop in Hillsboro. Can you please not talk or go in there with or to me? Just wait in the car and wear a hat and sunglasses so no one sees me and you in the same place"
  He listens to his mother though because she will light his ass up if he gives her any guff, same relationship I have with her. Family time is the shit over here, let me tell you..
  Lucky for me I remember I was the same fucking way at 15.
   I attended an Amerikan High School then, too.
 I knew who Pandora was though, from my secret vice of reading a lot.

                  All the demons she kept in that box would come find me when they got out.
   I wanted to be Keith Richards twin and a successful drug and jewel smuggling professional baseball player world famous musician.
 I tried to get the SDS to come to my High School and got kicked out twice in the same year.
 The legend around here, however, is that I was a perfect little student, a fable I cooked up to tell him in case he would think being a messy little bastard would work for him...
                                    He's  a great kid. He likes school and is already looking around at colleges to go to and be an attorney or History Teacher or something.
They put him in the "Honors English" class.
 I was flunking my senior year so I wouldn't get drafted.
I only needed to pass English to graduate and when they ended the draft at two months of school left, instead of just cutting out I asked my English teacher what it would take for me to get a passing grade.
 I had to do a 1 hour oral report on Napolean, standing in front of the class.
 Jo-Anne brought Donuts and someone else, Dave, brought pizza and cokes. I was harangued and pelted with all kind of shit and made it. Two more guys who were up to the same shit as me got it, too. Ma Ford, the instructor was understanding.

    Well my kid, my son;
                         he ain't nothing like I was and if he ever found it, I bet he'd just leave that fucking box alone.
                     It's his mothers fault, not mine. She civilized me.
He got it from her, too.