Chapter 1.525
021906
2053 Hours
Chapter I (?)
On February 12, 1976 around 6:00 am, a creature to be named Lydell Jon Roberts was brought into this pile of dirt known as Earth. Weighing in at 7 lbs and 7 oz. he began is ascent to superstardom. As to which field this superstardom would take place, as of 30 years later, it is still unknown and a prophecy yet unfulfilled. As far as he knew, the first place he would call home would be the projects on the Southside of Minneapolis, Minnesota. Rest assured a breeding ground for the future leaders of the Native American community. On this land he would become softened by the constant nurturing of the female species. They would not let him get hurt or out of their sight. But in the end he would learn a valuable lesson; respect the ladies, a lesson that could take him far in life if used for good and not evil.
Dang! That was cool. Well, to me it was anyway. Yeah, I was born in the Twin Cities and lived there until I was 3 years old. Not much about those years have stuck in my head. I wonder if, psychologically, I intentionally left some memories out due to them being something I wouldn’t want to remember. Nah, it was the ‘70s, man! We were groovin’ to Bob Seger, the Steve Miller Band, and Fleetwood Mac, going to Mr. Arthur’s, kicking some ass and having a good ol’ time! Those were the days, bro! Wait! I was just a kid. Ok, maybe I wasn’t hanging in, but it sure seemed like a good time from my mom’s point of view. Back then, it was just me and my mom. My dad would come around often and it was cool with me because that’s all I knew. My 2 sisters were up north with my grandparents, so I was pretty spoiled, over nurtured you could say. But what mom doesn’t spoil her baby, right?
A few memories I took from living down south (Minneapolis) were with my Uncle Joe. He was the man. He and my Grandpa Shorty made me proud to be a Roberts later on in life. But it was thru him I was able to relive most of my life outside the “Rez.” Every time I was lucky enough to get a young lady’s attention at school for her to come over and visit, he loved to tell the story of the when he came to pick me up to take me to Red Lake. The way he told it was we were sitting in a restaurant waiting for our food when he and his friend “Big” Bob asked me if I had to use the bathroom. Being just old enough to talk and not yet having a filter for the words that came out of my mouth, I yelled out, “Uncle Joe, I gotta take a shit!” It was just loud enough for the whole joint to hear and thus being a story every girlfriend he met of mine had to hear. You got to love Uncle Joe. Those fortunate enough to know him, did.
Another time he came to get me, we were exiting an ice cream place and I noticed a shiny, white car with a silver toy on the hood of it. Being the curious cat I was, I tried to take it off to no avail. While trying to take it off, a large African-American male dressed in a bright red suit and a large hat with a feather on it inside was pounding on the window. Uncle Joe, never known to back down from anything, stared him down. Uncle Joe won of course. As we were getting into the car, Uncle Joe asked, “What’s the matter with you? You coulda got us killed!”
The finely dressed man could be heard saying, “Kids. Did you see that little sucka messin’ wit my ride?! Injin kid wit his crooked hat and saggy pants. Hey, man. That looked pretty cool. I’ma start wearin’ my ball cap crooked and pants saggin’.”,thus backing up my claim that I started that trend, though nobody gives me credit.
TO BE CONTIUED…
2053 Hours
Chapter I (?)
On February 12, 1976 around 6:00 am, a creature to be named Lydell Jon Roberts was brought into this pile of dirt known as Earth. Weighing in at 7 lbs and 7 oz. he began is ascent to superstardom. As to which field this superstardom would take place, as of 30 years later, it is still unknown and a prophecy yet unfulfilled. As far as he knew, the first place he would call home would be the projects on the Southside of Minneapolis, Minnesota. Rest assured a breeding ground for the future leaders of the Native American community. On this land he would become softened by the constant nurturing of the female species. They would not let him get hurt or out of their sight. But in the end he would learn a valuable lesson; respect the ladies, a lesson that could take him far in life if used for good and not evil.
Dang! That was cool. Well, to me it was anyway. Yeah, I was born in the Twin Cities and lived there until I was 3 years old. Not much about those years have stuck in my head. I wonder if, psychologically, I intentionally left some memories out due to them being something I wouldn’t want to remember. Nah, it was the ‘70s, man! We were groovin’ to Bob Seger, the Steve Miller Band, and Fleetwood Mac, going to Mr. Arthur’s, kicking some ass and having a good ol’ time! Those were the days, bro! Wait! I was just a kid. Ok, maybe I wasn’t hanging in, but it sure seemed like a good time from my mom’s point of view. Back then, it was just me and my mom. My dad would come around often and it was cool with me because that’s all I knew. My 2 sisters were up north with my grandparents, so I was pretty spoiled, over nurtured you could say. But what mom doesn’t spoil her baby, right?
A few memories I took from living down south (Minneapolis) were with my Uncle Joe. He was the man. He and my Grandpa Shorty made me proud to be a Roberts later on in life. But it was thru him I was able to relive most of my life outside the “Rez.” Every time I was lucky enough to get a young lady’s attention at school for her to come over and visit, he loved to tell the story of the when he came to pick me up to take me to Red Lake. The way he told it was we were sitting in a restaurant waiting for our food when he and his friend “Big” Bob asked me if I had to use the bathroom. Being just old enough to talk and not yet having a filter for the words that came out of my mouth, I yelled out, “Uncle Joe, I gotta take a shit!” It was just loud enough for the whole joint to hear and thus being a story every girlfriend he met of mine had to hear. You got to love Uncle Joe. Those fortunate enough to know him, did.
Another time he came to get me, we were exiting an ice cream place and I noticed a shiny, white car with a silver toy on the hood of it. Being the curious cat I was, I tried to take it off to no avail. While trying to take it off, a large African-American male dressed in a bright red suit and a large hat with a feather on it inside was pounding on the window. Uncle Joe, never known to back down from anything, stared him down. Uncle Joe won of course. As we were getting into the car, Uncle Joe asked, “What’s the matter with you? You coulda got us killed!”
The finely dressed man could be heard saying, “Kids. Did you see that little sucka messin’ wit my ride?! Injin kid wit his crooked hat and saggy pants. Hey, man. That looked pretty cool. I’ma start wearin’ my ball cap crooked and pants saggin’.”,thus backing up my claim that I started that trend, though nobody gives me credit.
TO BE CONTIUED…
posted by Jonny R. at 9:15 PM
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