Memory Lane Monday

Things I Miss About Living in Gulfport, MS pt. 1

The Characters

My Wife Melissa and I moved to Gulfport, Ms in early 2001 due to a job transfer and we stayed there until hurricane Katrina blew us back to Baton Rouge. There were many things we enjoyed about living in Gulfport, but we truly enjoyed the interesting cast of characters that we came to know and love. Ok, we avoided close contact with some of them like the plague, but still enjoyed out encounters from afar. I will list and briefy describe some of the most colorful characters that are now branded in my mind for eternity.

The 'Rock-Rock Man"

The Rock-Rock Man was frequently spotted on Three Rivers Rd. riding his bicycle, sporting his 'Jew-fro' and totally rocking out to his Sony Walkman cassette player from 1983. He possessed not only the unique skill of riding his bicycle with no hands, but could also play air guitar and bang his head like an epileptic Beavis or Butt-Head. He was always a welcome sight between Creosote and Dedeaux Rd.

The "Bop-Bop" Man

My first encounter with the Bop-Bop Man nearly ended in cardiac arrest. It was a nice day and I was doing something on the porch of our rent house on 17th St., also known as Park Blvd. I'm not sure why, but we did technically have two physical addresses. Anyway, I was enjoying my day on the front porch when my heart skipped a beat as I heard the first, earsplitting "BOP!". Then, he rattled off a few more "BOPS" in hard, staccato, machine-gun fashion. The best way I can describe it is to imagine if one of the Hanson brothers caught an acute case of Tourette's syndrome during an encore of MMMBOP. This continued as he walked past the house, apparently unaware that he was making any vocalizations, whatsoever. The Bop-Bop Man took frequent, unexpected walks past the house. His strolls usually occurred on Sundays, during naps, while babies slept, etc...

The Butt Snatchers

Ok, it's not what you think. Or, at least not what I think you may think. The casinos were present on the Mississippi Gulf Coast before Melissa and I arrived and I had heard it mentioned that with casinos comes an expected homeless population. Any-who, I'm not sure whether the Butt-Snatchers were homeless, poor, resourceful, or just downright disgusting. What I do know is that there was pure joy on their faces as they scoured the public ashtrays looking for cigarette butts with any trace of tobacco left. Typically, I would notice them in pairs, a male and a female. They both had purses, in which they stored their nicotine booty. They would only occasionally light up their finds at the ashtray, but would usually stash the butts in their purses for later enjoyment. I don't know, maybe the hocked them at the 24 hour pawn shops. These little fellows were a treat to watch, none-the-less.

The Squatters

I always had a lot of respect for the Edgewater Squatters. They were very clever and resourceful. See, when Melissa and I first moved to Gulfport, we lived at the Edgewater III Apartments on Beach Blvd. Unfortunately, they no longer exist, thanks to the aforementioned hurricane. Anyway, we had always noticed the little dome tent that set just behind the billboard that was next to the apartment complex adjacent to the Edgewater III. What we didn't know at the time was that the guys living in the tent were stealing electricity from the billboard and cable from one of the apartments. All this and beachfront property. Ahh, the American dream!

"Happy Tuesday" Lady

Ahhh, the Happy Tuesday Lady... There was an easily recognizably lady that lived in downtown Gulfport that we affectionately dubbed Happy Tuesday. She was an elderly black lady that lived a few blocks from our rent house on 17th St./Park Blvd. She typically wore a red suit and matching facial make-up (lipstick, stuff on her checks that could have also been lipstick, eyeliner that also could have been lipstck). What made her really special is that she would always give an exuberant greeting with the incorrect day of the week. If it was Saturday, you might hear a boisterous "Happy Tuesday!" Of course, it was very slow and drawn out as if she had been drinking, but I am certain this was not the case. In fact, she sounded very much like Mr. Hanky, the Christmas Poo. My wife Melissa shared a special encounter with the Happy Tuesday Lady one weekend in Downtown Gulfport. She happened on a fender bender a few blocks from the house and those involved were trying to make sense of the situation as Happy Tuesday was proudly proclaiming "Happy 4th of July!" at the top of her lungs! I think it was the weekend of Valentine's Day...

I miss Gulfport and will always consider it my second home. Next time, I'll tell the story of my Flaming Ford Ranger Fireball of Fury.

Sarcasm Saturday!

After much thought and deliberation, I've decided to start a blog. I've struggled with the purpose of my blog, and have come to decide that it shall be multi-purpose. It shall be funny, serious, enlightening, educational, and intelligent. Oh, and should make me lots of money. Blogging is, after all, a get-rich-quick scheme is it not?

Anyway, I'm thinking that each day might get it's own theme and today, and future Saturday's, will be known as 'Sarcasm Saturday'. I just 'lurve' me some sarcasms. So, today's first topic will be a touchy topic. Well, maybe not so 'touchy'.

"Trucksticles".

Why does anyone think that their automobile needs a set of genitalia?!? And why, more specifically, male genitalia? (more about this later) Do these mal-mannered motorists feel the need for molded man mounds to better relate to their vehicles? Does it help them to personify their rides? Why do people do this? Let's explore some possible reasons:

1. They Just Look "Cool"
"Yep, that there's my truck. Notice his do-dadz?", Nick points and proudly exclaims as he meets his fiance's grandparents for the first time.

2. They're "Manly"
"Yeah, I just love admiring a great set of testicles, don't you?", Robert asks inquisitively of his his friends as they drink beer outside of the local Wal Mart.

3. They're "Funny"
"Her reaction just cracks me up!", Jared exclaims, much to her mother's discontent, of the 5 year old child batting his vehicle's private parts around.

4. They're Anatomically Correct
Yeah, if your truck was Richard Simmons!!!

5. They're Perfectly Acceptable In Today's Society
"Thank you, sir, for the job interview. Oh, that's me in the four wheel drive Dodge Ram, painted in Rhino Liner with the 'Get-R-Done' sticker and the flesh-tone truck nads, with realistic 'veining'. I'll be anxiously awaiting you decision on the branch office manager position", Stewart said, excitedly, as he shook Mr. Mahoney's hand vigorously.


And lastly, why do all trucks have to be male? Why don't the makers of the prosthetic genitalia for vehicles make female products? Why are there no truck girlie bits? For years, musicians have named their instruments of choice after women and it's been right. BB King has had a long standing relationship with his Gibson ES-355 variant, Lucille. It just wouldn't be the same if he had been caressing 'Luther' on stage all these years. If that was the case, I'd have to say the thrill was gone a looong time ago. So, do these truck nutz fans name their rides? "Come on, Daryl! Let's jump in sweet Bruce here and go get dirty!" What?!? "I mean, let's go mud riding, grunt, grunt!" Besides, if all trucks were males, how would they reproduce? Asexually?

Remember...
Friends don't let friends put 'do-dads' on their trucks...

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