Ok, here's the deal.
As most of you know, old Billy Bob is an upstanding law abiding individual, never break'n the law or none that stuff. Pay my taxes, drive the speed limit, don't steal stuff....yep, Billy Bob is a clean cut feller. But....when I was a teenager, things were different. I had long hair combed back in a DA, wore mostly black clothes, drove like a maniac, didn't have no driver license and broke the law.
Ya see, it were like this.....I had lived with my Aunt and Uncle for a little while when I arrived in Ridgecrest. I hitchhiked there cause my dad was in jail down in Los Angeles for drunk driv'n or something like that. I lived in an old construction trailer for a while and then we moved the trailer out to the 5 acres bout 6 mile from town. You know, the one with no electric or water. At the time I had this old 1936 Dodge 4 door sedan what had a rod knock'n in the motor.....never could blow that sucker up, and I tried. Rev'er up as tight as it would go, pop the clutch spin them tires. Yeah boy howdy.
One night I decided to head to town and see the girls and listen to rock an roll at the "hang out". I was cut'n down the road bout 60 mile a hour and I see these red lights a flash'n. Oh crap, it's the cops. We didn't call 'em cops back in them days. They was police/police officers/the law.....that was call respect. I says..."well shoot, I'm a quarter mile ahead and get'n close to town....I'll out run him and hide". There were only two cop cars in town so I figgered I had a good chance long as the old Dodge kept run'n. Spun around a couple corners headed into a residential area....yeah, I'm home Scott free. Only two blocks to go and that cop was gain'n on me.....only half a block behind. I come around the last corner headed for the home stretch when I think I went up on two wheels....started slid'n and into the bushes and someone's fence. Then the motor died.
I didn't want to tell my aunt and uncle I was in trouble, so I just went off to the jail house think'n I would tell them tomorrow when they let me out. Right....I was tell'n it to the judge before 9am. Can you believe I was sentenced to 90 days in the "big house" over in Bakersfield for driv'n with no license, speed'n, wreckless driv'n and resisting arrest.
Well it was get'n close to Christmas and things was slow at the "big house". I ain't say'n all we did was sit on our butts and "do nuttin" all day....we worked. Went on road gangs, pick up trash, shovel shit, pick cotton.....we had a good ol' time. Then they decided they would kick some of us out...early. I had been there only bout a month and they kick me out....poooof, gone, just like that.....on the side of the road 100 mile from home.
Remind me to tell ya bout "pick'n cotton" in jail.
some of us get caught, some dont
ReplyDeleteI always said if I ever get me a job in town I'll never pick another row of cotton in my life. Now my Dad made me pull a 12' sack from the time I was 9 years old, picked double rows along side my Mother, who was a real hand in the cotton field. 100 lbs a day was what I was expected to pick, and I didn't get to quite until it was picked, I also picked a lot of dirt clods, but if I got caught,there was hell to pay.
ReplyDeleteI don't remember anything good about picking cotton. at $2.00 a hundred.
Dang BB, not just a jail bird but a cotton picken jail bird, WOW !!!
ReplyDelete....tater...tater tot?
ReplyDeleteSo when they turned you loose from the big house you were walking the Streets of Bakersfield
ReplyDeleteI'll bet your Mama Tried to keep you from running around. Did I ever tell you about the time that I was thrown out of a bar.
ReplyDeleteWHAT? None of you came up with "cottonpickeing jail bird? :-)
ReplyDeleteI knew you were a hell raiser in your younger days...heck you are still one now :-D
ReplyDelete