Stoney Smoothie Charlie and Me

I met them when I worked at the hospital laundry. Had I known what life held in store for me I would have stayed there and retired. But I was young and knew no better. My official title was, Wash Man. Sounds menial and even funny but in the world of laundry you were top dog. A roofer buddy made fun of me a lot. He said he had a man's job and I was nothing. I got him a job with me when he was laid off one winter. He said, shit buddy, you work hard. I said. No shit.

Stoney was born with a handicap. Not sure what caused it. His left arm was withered, he walked with a limp, and he was totally blind in one eye and could not see out of the other. Sorry for the platitude. It did not slow him down however. Worked his ass off and he trained me and we became good friends. He rode a moped, dreaming it was a Panhead. And. And. And.

Smoothie was Stoney's buddy and and that's how I met him. What a character. Short fellow with red hair and beard. Loved him dearly. He had the look of a leprechaun and I don't mean that in a bad way. And funny. Shit man he could make you laugh. He was ill. But are we all not? Who among us....is....not.....ill. Found out later. Much much later. He was in and out of hospitals the years we travelled this rock and filled each other's spirits. But that was long ago. Long. Ago...............

Charlie was in a wheelchair. Never heard why. Never came up. Kept a towel in his lap. You'd go to visit him at his apartment and there was laughter ahoy! Laugh...laugh...laugh. He had a speech impediment as well. Loved him to death. Never said a cross word to any living being be it man-dog, woman-cat, or child with lollipop.

So anyway......the world spun and time past in the hamlet of Mansburg. We ran the bars together. Laughed and cried together. Held each other up and knocked each other down. Fell into and out of relationships. Threw up in alleys. Listened to music. Talked....Talked....Talked.

I think of them often today and I'm not sure I'll ever find love like that again. Pure. But memories can be translucent, myopic and sometimes, deceiving. We each have them but 'tis like the ebb and flow of ocean tide.