#TonyBennett & Me | Tony was also a painter. In the Spring of 1987, he could be seen at midday, donning a smock and erecting his easel under a tree on Farragut Square, a park in downtown DC. Office workers brown-bagged there; I did every day.
One noontime, Tony started singing a cappella, "It Had To Be You." Just a few bars, and when he finished, we shouted "Bravo!" and clapped. Tony smiled big, bowed deeply and went back to his canvas. #RIP
👋 My last stop in town was Food Lion. After loading in, I sat down and *screamed! It was a bee or wasp; I never saw it in the melee.
Walked back to the store to the standing ashtray where people put cigarettes out. I grabbed a couple half-smoked butts and went back to the car, then found an isolated spot in the lot.
Sprinkled tobacco on my palm, mixed it with spit, then put some on two fingers and rubbed it on the lump on my butt cheek.
Pep talks remind me of being called "Sport" as a kid.
The Air Force Sergeant dad of a friend in Cub Scouts had a blonde crew-cut, perspired a lot, and wore too much Mennen Skin Bracer. A perma-grinning "Up With People" type.
"You guys can call me Larry" gripped my shoulder and *assured me I could be good at basketball if I'd just apply myself—"Sport!"
🚙 Popped the hood on my lil Fiat 500 Pop for the first in a couple years. I drive < 100 miles/month, and had the oil changed and fluids checked in October. I need anti-freeze.
As I propped the lid open, a childhood friend's voice popped in my head:
"Eddie! Get away from that wheelbarrow! You know you don't know nothing bout no machine-ree!"
A "meme" in the 60s South decided to say "Hey!" after 55 years. 😂