Mr. Ed, or the little fat guy he is sometimes referred to by me behind his back, does what most Editors do…He assigns us jobs, or interviews as it is known in the quote unquote “business”. He had seen the story on the local television station about Wilbur the “Counting Cars” old man and insisted that I go and see him and get a story from him too..He was a nice old man. Lived all his life here in our little town. Buried his second wife and never wanted to get married again..I guess he figured them out too…Not that I’m bitter toward women per say..Now don’t get me wrong..I could enjoy their company too. Well, until the newness wore off and then I would grow tired of them real quick..Its like they wear a nice mask until they think they have their hooks in ya and then they pull the mask off to show their true colors….Claws and drama…Or so it has been my experience.. But in a way I guess guys do the same thing too and are no better…
Anyway, back to the little fat guy…He sent me to see Wilbur and he also sent me to Mr. Buzby, the typewriter/vcr repair man..I have interviewed the elite of this little town all the way down to the garage man. Whom by the way, if he didn’t do his job we would be run over by mounds of filthy garbage and rats the size of small dogs in just a matter of a few weeks time. At least that is what he told me….Talk about digressing into the old days. I don’t think we are expecting any plagues thanks to him….
Well, enough about Mr. Ed, or Mr. Buzby or even Mr. Wilbur..How bout me? Who am I? To this date I have never been interviewed. Well, except for when I applied for this job.. I have always done the interviewing…Why isn’t anyone interested in me? I think I would make a great story. A good read….a tragedy even maybe? Or maybe how bout a success story? My only claim to fame is a short story I got published while I was still wet behind my ears. I guess it’s my legacy…My pillar…Not much of pillar though, I can’t stand on it but it was one of the few things I got to keep in the divorce….My ex-wife would have taken that too if she could have…feel the love??
Who am I you may ask? And as your loyal “wordsmith,” I can answer that…..
I am Charles, a noble name but not of noble blood…Far from it…I hailed not from the shores of England and their fine Royal linage, but from a squatter..Squatter??? You may act surprised if need be…..You see, my folks grew up on the banks of the mighty Ohio river…They were so poor that they couldn’t afford homes so they built shanties on the river bank. There was small community of poor people living for free on the river. Just like in the song “Proud Mary”…The people in the city called it “fish town”….It was meant as an insult and not as a compliment…But the people of “fish town” took it all in stride…They didn’t let it bother them so I guess they took the high road.. To this day I’ll meet people that talk bad about where I came from and I’ll give them enough strong rope to hang themselves before I proudly say…”I lived in fish town”…Even Though I have no recollection of it….
So the story goes that my dad and mom met young, married young, had kids young and then separated, all while they were, still young..I recollect all this happened within the span of a couple of years or so. Seems my dad had an eye for chasing skirts and well, my mom was against that. Especially considering they were married at the time. I also have a half brother or two running around here somewhere too…Anyway, I was born and…..”What’s that Mr. Ed”? Sorry the intercom just went off…. He could of just IM’d me but he chooses to use the outdated intercom system that came with the building, circa 1982 maybe??.. “You have another assignment for me? I’ll be right there Boss”..