So, the other night at the Cane we’re all sitting around listening to the new Black Flag CD, “Twenty-four Black Flag songs to benefit the West Memphis Three”. It was real early so it was just a few of us plus one of the bands lounging around like only road bands can do, when these two black cats walked in. (Black Flag, black cats. Huh?) Everything was cool until one of em tried to leave with his drink which if you’ve ever been to Westport in Kansas City you’d know that having an open container of booze out on the street was bad juju and shit. The cops around here will shoot a muthafucker over shit like that plus go beat down the bar that served em. Anyway Mito hollered at the cat to get his ass back inside the door and he sat back down at the bar. Five minutes later he headed toward the back door and off went Mito after him. Rusty tagged behind just to make sure Mito was in the clear, he gave me the high sign so I got up and headed to the back of the bar where everybody was at. There was the two black cats, Mito and Rusty, plus by then Raven had gotten up to what was up. Rusty told me that the younger black cat was having an asthma attack. I asked the cat was he all right and that’s when he asked for a paper sack to breath thru. Now the older cat wasn’t saying shit so I grabbed a paper sack from the bar and handed to the young cat who supposedly had the breathing problems. The muthafucker then proceeded to put the fuckin sack over his fuckin head. Now I’m no goddamn MD and shit but that didn’t look right to me so that’s when I turned to his partner and told em to get this muthafucker out of the bar. It’s too early in the fuckin evening for shit like that. Other then that it was a pretty mellow evening. Thanksgiving morning I was laying on the couch flipping channels when Cassie came in and joined me. She then surprised me by making breakfast, I keep forgetting that she used to be a chef on the pro circuit cause she whipped that shit out faster then a muthafucker and damn tasty to boot. Later that day I headed over to the Widow Beck’s house for Thanksgiving dinner and the like. My brother fried a turkey and mom made all the other fixins. This was the first major holiday since the old man died and it turned out ok. I was kind’a disappointed that she didn’t set his ashes out as a centerpiece for the table, but I guess you can’t have everything and shit. A real cool moment happened when an old friend from back in the day came back to visit. James or as we used to call em “Baby Brother”. We were all raised on the same street as kids and now he was living back on the block with his own family. We were all out on the front porch talking when it hit me how cool this all was. I’m standing on the porch of the house I was raised in and next-door was the house that my sister moved into after collage. Next door lived a couple of girls and their kids who had moved back into the house they were raised in. Up the street in the house they were raised in lived Sandy and her family and next door lived Baby Brother in the house he was raised in. and as I’m watching his son and daughter head over to Sandy’s house like we used to back in the day I couldn’t help but think how cool it all was. Instead of moving away most of the kids that grew up on that street across from the park and a few blocks from the city zoo had all opted to move back on the same street to raise their own families. It made me feel that my mother living by herself was in good hands. Along with my sister living next-door, kids surrounded her that she had helped raise along with her own. The street where I lived had turned out ok. Peace