Street Kings

Fond Memory #2 - Roller Derby Street Kings

The Unbeatable Street Kings

Grade school, skates attached to the hard soles of your school shoes via screw clamps on the front edge. The back tied down with a small leather strap and buckle. These skates would come off for any number of reasons. The bolt in the middle that controlled the size might get loose and the skate would fall into two pieces, or you might hit a slight crack in the sidewalk and the clamped toe end would just pop off. These would prevent you from getting any speed (unless you enjoyed a tumble on the sidewalk) and no matter how skilled you were at falling those falls hurt. The only solution was “Roller Derby Street Kings” shoe skates like the kind at the roller rink - except with steel wheels for outdoor use (no polyurethane back then). These allowed you to go full speed without endangering your life. I wanted those but the price was much too high.

     The answer to my dilemma came when I got to go on an electrical side job with my father. I always liked those jobs, I was a little scared - at once not to let your father down and also not to get electrocuted*. Half the time I didn’t have a clue but it was exciting and the pay was great. I made enough at the time to buy the Street Kings and now was the undisputed fastest skater on my block. (Actually a bigger kid may have been faster but his skates would fall off two thirds into the race…) I would go around challenging the best skaters in the neighborhood to expand my dominion.
     I met my match across 95^th street and a block over, the boy’s name was Bobby and he had a pair of Street Kings too. The race was set to be on the sidewalks, he on the east side of Lowe street starting at 96^th, me on the west. We would end at the alley just before 95^th. The other kids yelled the start and we were on, hell bent for glory. After a few moments of flailing and pounding steel on concrete we ended, in a dead heat. We both claimed victory, so we ran it again with the same result - neither one of us would ever concede - only grudgingly calling it a tie.
     A kid today would be screaming if he had to wear those metal wheeled beasts, accustomed as they are now to luxurious polyurethane, but to us they were pure heaven…

 

The Infamous Clip On - Fall Off Skates

*(Ok, I really had no chance of being electrocuted…)



Story: Ken
Artwork: TMITH
Photo: Random Internet





 

To Heaven Itself...

Every now and then we will retread one of our olde graphics with new words and so...

Downtown Charlie Brown in...

Words: Zzen - Concept: Reynard - Artwork: Ken

Oh Lord! Kim Speaks...

Photos: Random Internet - Words: Deegan - Layout: TMITH

BAM Disclaimer - Kim

Disclaimer:

The following post does not represent any or all of the Cosmic's disposition on the matter, as we uphold every individuals right to be a complete and utter asshole.

Kim Davis by TMITH

The neat thing about misguided belief systems is that it allows you to be the asshole that - deep down inside - you really want to be.

But, The Hat Is Righteous!

Words: Zzen - Graphics: Ken & TMITH

Fond Memories

#1 - Virginia

Taking a break from the unsettling world, Ken shares a fond memory...



Grandma Lillian and Ken

I think I am about five or six. Tobacco hanging from the rafters or beams in a barn or something like a barn -  with an indescribable smell - one that you relish. You have smelled nothing like it since. The sap is running in a tree you are climbing. How did you manage to get it all in your hair? It was hard to remove… Two ticks on the hunting dog - they look like tiny balloons - the pigs will eat the big weeds you throw into the pen. You did not know how dangerous they were. They will eat you and your boots too, but you had no thoughts of going down in the pen - which was dug down into the earth with a wooden fence around it. Down the orange clay road there is a certain smell and the peach from that tree at the end (if you recall correctly) of the driveway - is the best one you will eat in your entire life. The field hands throw tobacco into a big wooden box with heavy wooden skids - you are sitting on the front of the box with your older brother and it is pulled by a blue-grey tractor. Upstairs at night the quilt feels perfect and Grandma Lillian tucks you in - there are dead wasps in the windowsill but you feel safe. In the morning at breakfast Grandpa Isaac teases you a little and you don’t know if he is being mean or friendly, you figure it’s both and keep on eating…

 

 

 

 

Fond Memories - number one in series of memories, maybe not all sweet but subtly interesting...

 

 

 

 

Sally (Re-) Submits

Sally kindly submitted this gentle redux of "Roadbed Thru The Sea"
(see link below for the original by Phineas)
http://artandwordgrinders.blogspot.com/2015/04/roadbed-thru-sea.html



"The Difficulty Of Objects" by Ken

Roadbed Sweetly Through The Sea

I was walking on the beach enveloped by a deliciously fragrant pre-rain breeze when I happened upon a talking raven. He appeared alone in an intense discussion - as I approached he became agitated and flew at me. I ducked and told him I meant no harm but was just curious. He remarked that some people on the beach were not very friendly, “but you I like”. I thanked him, smoothed his fine black ruffled feathers and continued my walk.
     A man approached me and remarked relating to my swim garb, he was quite correct in that it boldly accentuates the sinuous curves of my body, a combination of muscle and volutioned curve one does not quite often see, but I digress… He begged me to tell him where I was staying and to have dinner with him. I said I be delighted to do so - but my fiancée might not find it so charming. I smiled, bid him good day and left. You must forgive me my bold lie as I have not so much as considered a running mate or even an errand boy, but I did not want to harm him, he seemed fragile… I really, really was not then in the mood for company and just wanted to collect my thoughts. I felt that the raven was some lost relative somehow and had not put that bird to rest.
     After a mile stroll I became clear and noted the time. I was early for dinner and so I sat at the hotel bar. A man with a moustache bought me a delightful drink and (also to my delight) he kept his mouth tastefully closed not trying to pry me open in any way. He was simple, charming, handsome and silent, which was appropriate for my disposition.  I was tempted - to say the least, but this trip - was planned for no entanglements mental, physical or emotional and was to remain just that way. I touched the back of his left hand, smiled and left. He being clever enough, did not give chase.
     I went to my room where only moments before my food had been delivered. Covered and at perfect temperature on the balcony the moist morsels delivered me into a sweet agony, while the moon was easy enough to behold just beyond my fork. I ate. Fully sated I had a few sips of wine that married a reflection of the meal that only the gods could have imagined. Then I came down. Leaving the balcony I went out to the gaming room, where I proceeded to lose every penny I had in my schedule, joyful but not too brief as I had won at roulette in the interim.
     In the morning after a massage I played shuffleboard with Mr Pleasantly Silent, they had a wonderful chilled complimentary fruit cup for the players, I beat him without mercy. We had breakfast together though his hardly had a calorie. Then I boarded my plane and he his. Oh what a sweet and wonderful three and a half days, I am sure the raven is happy with me and I with him.

Who's Doing The Talking?

No matter the religion everyone says their "Holy Book" was inspired by God. The Cosmic team started to ask how you could verify that it was actually God doing the inspiring and...

Speaking of spirits...

Apparently, a form of LSD was used centuries before the Christ

When one is talking to you how do you know if it is God, the devil, an angel or a demon? They don't give you a business card before they start yammerin' at ya. So who is who? He might sound like an angel but be a demon, or he might sound like God but be an angel just trying to take undue credit. Man it's a tough row to hoe - trying to separate all these. When do people get these inspirations?
When they are:

• Hallucinating
• Sleep
• High on opiates
• Drunk
• Fasting for long periods

These inspirations are remarkably, written down as "facts" - wow!
     These same visions will get you locked up in the psyche ward or, depending on who you share it with - make you a famous religious leader. If I told you a giant truck tire in the sky - with an eyeball in the middle of it - explained (to me alone) the fate of mankind, what would you say?

For precursor to wheel graphic see http://artandwordgrinders.blogspot.com/2014/02/arizona-freedom-to-stone-people-to-death.html





     If you or anybody you know - knows how to be certain of the origins of "inspirations of God" please, by all means - explain it to me.

Truck Tyre With eyeball: Ken
Truck Tyre Redux 4: TMITH
"Who's Talking" concept: Zzen
Textual conveyance: Sally/Reynard
Asshole "presence": Deegan
Empty pockets/ideas: Phineas ("soon to be fired Phineas")

The answer to the question is not just "kill the bad-guys" as the "Holy books" and conservatives would have you believe.