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WharfRatStu

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About WharfRatStu

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    2009 to present. Illinois, Missouri, Indiana, Georgia, North Carolina, New York
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    Boanire, GA

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  1. WharfRatStu

    Short Story "I's Of The Whirled"

    I’s Of The Whirled!!! By: Wharf Rat Stu Disclaimer: This is a work of fun and fiction. Names, characters, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s grateful imagination or used in a fictitious manner. This is intentionally written with Grateful Dead songs, lyrics, tidbits, historical folklore and balderdash in mind. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or otherwise, or actual events is purely freakin’ coincidental, get over it and smile! My name is August West, me and my girlfriend Bobby McGee were on the Golden Road to unlimited devotion heading to the Promised Land where we waited until our deal come ‘round. Having wandered so many roads to sooth our soul, Bobby and I would wander downtown with nowhere to go but just to hang around. We traveled light in those days. All I had was a change of clothes, hacky-sack and my Funk & Wagnall’s while Bobby toted some clothes along with her harp, devil-sticks, note pad, and a Swiss Army knife. Standing on the corner, Bobby received a text message. Oh boy, looks like rain, she mumbled. ‘Don’t ease me in; what is going on?’ I asked. Bobby explained that Althea, Rosemary and my brother Esau, were in a serious car accident! Apparently, they failed to caution and stopped on the tracks outside of Terrapin Station and was swiped by the cities’ new potato Caboose! Althea and Rosemary shall be released soon but Esau is in critical condition, the text reads. Bobby said we need to head home in the morning. I do not want to wait ‘til the morning comes, we need to beat it on down the line tonight, I said frantically. If I had the world to give, I’d give it to you, you know that, but tonight we might as well rest. Rest!! but Bobby, there comes a time… and the only time is now! This could be the last time I see my brother Esau! August, I seen a sign for a Mars Hotel on the corner of Bourbon and Shakedown St. Let’s spend the night together and at sunrise, I will take you home. ‘Promise?’ I asked? From the heart of me, she replied. So Bobby & I holed up at the Mars Hotel, we didn’t get to sleep that night till the morning come around… Here comes sunshine Augey! Time to get up, we have a long, long, long way to go home. And so off we went, going down the road feeling bad trekking through the morning dew to the interstate hoping to soon be riding passenger. As West L.A. faded away behind us, we turned our attention to El Paso hoping for some easy answers with regards to Esau. I phoned the hospital operator and was connected to Esau’s hospital room and Uncle Bobo answered. Uncle Bobo! Glad to hear from you, how is Esau I asked anxiously. Esau had a rough night and they are going to have to operate again. There is a lot of internal bleeding Bobo explained. Where is he? Can I speak with him? Esau is far from me Uncle Bobo replied. On a good note, Uncle Bobo continued; there is a specialist, Dr. Clementine, flying in so there is help on the way… We chatted for another moment then we hung up. I stared off like a dire wolf and rhetorically mentioned that is so unlike Esau to be such a lost sailor. He used to be the pride of Cucamonga now he is going to hell in a bucket. Out on the edge of the empty highway Bobby announced: August! Come on! We can run now, someone pulled over to give us a ride! The driver rolled his window down and asked where we were headin’ and Bobby shared we were West Texas bound. Well throw me in a jail house! the driver replied. I can get you most of the way there. The wheel is turning, jump on in here so we can jus’ keep truckin’ on! With Bobby in the middle we took off again. I’m known as Cosmic Charlie back yonder the driver announced. Just then he put his hand on Bobby’s thigh and suggested to me we can share the woman and we can share the wine I have under the seat. ‘Listen here Mister Charlie! Bobby screamed! You can just keep your day job and let us out right here - right now!! You want out here? Fine, I don’t need love anyhow! I knew I should never trust a woman, the stranger continued… You ain’t woman enough for me--now GET OUT! the driver demanded. Then the driver dared to add ‘I know you rider are going to miss me when I’m gone…’ We barely got out before the jerk sped off as Bobby and I began throwing stones at his beat-up truck. With that worry gone, I held Bobby and whispered I’d kindly sing her blues away and was sorry she had to go through that ordeal. When push comes to shove I can take care of myself and I wasn’t going to let ol Chuck get away with that! Bobby stammered; I am soo glad he’s outta here. I suppose we better get walking again I said and off we went. I bet we walked and talked for another two hours before we seen another vehicle and of course this one didn’t even tap its brakes to consider picking us up. We were about to the California border when we spotted a kind remodeled school bus heading our direction. We waved them down and we graciously entered their proud vessel. Hey guys! said someone in the back. Come on have a seat as we go furthur, the grisly fella introduced himself as Ronald and proceeded to name of the rest of the troupe as young Robert, Jerome, Thomas, Phillip, plus our two drummers; William, and finally Michael Hartman. Oh, before I forget, there is Cowboy Neal at the wheel, Neal kindly tipped his hat to the young lady following that intro. Well hey guys, thanks for having us aboard, I’m August and this is my girl Bobby McGee. I don’t mean to get all up in your kool-aid but what are you guys doing on the road, are you on a team or in a band or something? Well, Ronald thought a second, I guess most of our audience would say we are something of a band but can’t pinpoint our style exactly. This got all the fellas chuckling, maybe they were all road weary because it wasn’t really that funny. Sooo then, just what is your style? What do you play, my Bobby asked? We play a bluesy, kind of jazzy, folk-ish, country / country-western, psychedelia dance music with a hint of soul, they all contributed. Tell us more, I said. How long are these tunes of yours? Oh The Music Never Stops! Phillip replied. It is like, we jam then just take intermissions and continue on an hour later, or the next night, or next week. Then Robert interjected it’s like the music plays the band sometimes if you know what I mean. Jerome added: Way to go Peggy-O! That is when it is really far out man! It’s like the folk who like black licorice… Oh shut up with that! William hollered out and threw a damp towel at Jerome. This got all the fellas laughing again. This time Bobby & I also joined in the laughter. When Jerome ducked from the incoming towel, he knocked my backpack to the floor of the bus and I was a bit embarrassed as he picked up my dictionary and became to thumb through it… And finally, what is the name of your group? Bobby asked. We have had numerous name changes, we jokingly considered Mythical Ethical Icicle Tricycle then we decided on being named as a Jug Band but that wasn’t appropriate either and now we are The Warlocks! The Warlocks! That is you guys!! I said with a ripple. I have seen you guys at some night clubs but you don’t look like them I continued. What are you talkin’ about said Ronald. Yeah just last week I seen a band named The Warlock’s around San Diego. Couldn’t have, we were up in Washington last week, Philip replied. Unless there is another band named The Warlocks? said Michael. Oh great! Now what? William asked rhetorically. Hold on a second! said Jerome looking at my dictionary, I think I have an idea for another band name… Young Robert asked what our story was and what brings us to thumbing rides through barren deserts. I told them about my brother Esau being critically injured in a hospital bed in El Paso. It seems like you need to get to the hospital faster than what we can get you there Robert said. Just then Cowboy Neal spoke up that he just seen a billboard advertising the rail line is having a special running from Vegas to El Paso for twenty bills per person, the band members ponied up the dough and off we went in separate directions. Hey fellas, thank you so much for the donation, cannot thank you enough, I told them but let me part with these final considerations. First, Ronald, being the front man, you need to clean yourself up, looks like you just crawled out of a Pigpen. Second, you guys should consider adding a female to the band; everybody is doing it. And finally, ponder adding some accordion, it isn’t just for polka’s anymore! Enough! Jerome yelled out. You go now! Ain’t no way we will ever have an accordion in our band! So we left and Bobby whispered that this was the miracle we needed. And I piggy-backed on her comment that at this rate, I need a miracle every day! Bobby & I took the Number Twelve Train smoking out to El Paso and arrived in town by nightfall. Uncle John was the first family member we talked to upon arrival. Hey August, the band & I got here as soon as we could, sorry to hear about your bro…. Uncle John said. What a long, strange trip it’s been I tell ya, glad to be here, I replied. Althea, Rosemary, Uncle Bobo, Uncle John and his band, were all sitting and waiting showing their support with me and Bobby McGee when Dr. Beechwood came into the Family Support waiting area, clip board in hand, to share the outcome of Esau’s surgery. Listen up everyone. Please know my team and I did everything we could in surgery but there was just an extreme amount of internal damage to Esau’s organs. Now I quickly began to lose hope on a successful surgery and just spoke out. Dr. Beechwood, we believe you did all you could, but please just tell us, how is Esau? Will my brother be alright?? August, the Doctor said, I wish I had something better to tell you, but your brother Esau… “He’s Gone!”
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