JustMattHenry.com: gossip, life and humor

this is, of course, a reference to this song by jasmin sullivan, recently nominated for a grammy for best new artist.

and so it goes that i was in the bar tonight to play trivia, cause i like to play trivia, and some dumb ass kids heading home from Stead Park right behind the bar, threw a rock at our window and shattered it. it’s happened before, but the window has never shattered, so i run out and the kids are nonchalantly heading up the street like they haven’t done anything wrong, and i’m all like, FOOLS! and i called the police and gave an accurate description of said kids (gang) and so on and so forth.

this was not any kind of hate crime. it’s stupid kids being stupid kids. i don’t even think they realized they had shattered the window because…well, cause if i threw a rock at someone’s window and it shattered, i sure as hell wouldn’t have sauntered on up the street like i did nothing wrong. i would have said, “guys, let’s book!”, cause that’s what we used to say, and scattered.

this reminds me of a time that my brother said or did something that i didn’t like and i grabbed my mom’s dog whistle and chucked it at his head, he ducked and it broke a window pane in the window behind the television.

we called my dad at work and told him what happened hoping he would take out his anger on one of the ladies in the office and would have cooled off by the time he got home from work.

and yes, they’re probably hood rats from the low income housing over there on R st between 15th and 14th, but in their defense, i mean, say what you will about low income housing, but it doesn’t take a lack of money for kids to do stupid shit. i was a suburban white gay kid with a lesbian pal named whitney and we used to throw crabapples at passing cars from her front yard. there is little difference between that and these kids tonight. we threw acorns, we threw whatever small projectile we could get our hands on and a broken window is a broken window, be it on a passing neighborhood vehicle or a local urban gay bar.

granted neither myself nor my lesbian pal grew up to be gun toting thugs, mugging people left and right. at least that i know of. maybe she did. we don’t really keep in touch.