Last post today, I seem to be in a very prolific mood. I saw this on Yahoo, it is an article on marijuana being the US’s biggest cash crop. According to the article, the US produces $35 billion dollars in marijuana, more than corn and wheat combined. It also was concluded that five states produce more than $1 billion dollars in marijuana apiece. One of those states? Ding! Ding! Ding! If you said Kentucky, you are correct. Also among the big pot producers, California, Tennessee, Hawaii, and Washington state.
This brings me to a story, or two, about a cousin of mine and an uncle of Merlin. He went by the name Doc and was a pharmacist of sorts. He has been called a genius by many in my family but he became consumed by drugs. Merlin tells a great story about running into a friend of Doc’s after he had passed away, at too young an age by the way. Merlin said this friend also claimed Doc was a genius. He also gave an example of Doc’s genius-ness. He said Doc was so much smarter than every one else because he brought heroin to the OC instead of everyone always having to go to Nashville to get it. It’s kind of a mountain to Mohammed thing.
I’m sure Merlin could further elaborate on that subject, but I recently found out something else about Doc that I am not even sure Merlin knew about. A co-worker of Bratch’s was talking to him about the Power Team the other day. The Power Team is a group of Christian body builders who travel the land spreading the word of God and crushing concrete blocks and tearing phone books in half. One of the members lied and said he was the Junkyard Dog in the WWF. I guess that guy did not know that the Junkyard Dog died in 1998 in a car crash, but I digress.
This led Bratch and his co-worker into a discussion on pro wrestling, of which I used to be ate up with, and about the Memphis area wrestling promotion that used to travel to towns in the area and put on shows. Bratch’s co-worker talked about a show that we had also attended. One of the “personalities” at this show was a manager known as “The Mouth of the South” Jimmy Hart. He was one of these guys who had no business being a wrestler but had charisma out the wazoo and could fire up a crowd. So Jimmy Hart was used as a mouthpiece for wrestlers who maybe were not quite as charimatic and comfortable during interviews.
Speaking of firing up a crowd, at this show, after a match with some of Jimmy Hart’s wrestlers, as Hart and his wrestlers were heading to the locker room, there was a commotion over near the locker rooms in the small gymnasium where we were watching the show. I could tell something was going on because people were swarming to that side of the gym. I had heard later that someone had pulled a knife on Jimmy Hart and threatened to cut him. But I never had confirmation on that point.
Bratch’s co-worker was apparently in that section of the gym or knew somebody who was because she knew the story of what happened. The story goes that when Jimmy Hart was headed back to the locker room, Merlin’s Uncle Doc, perhaps too high to realize that wrestling was fake, jumped out of the crowd and punched him in the face. Doc, who was no stranger to a jail cell, was then cuffed and stuffed and taken off to the county lockup.
That is the story as I remember Bratch telling me and I am sure he could further elaborate if needed. I know most of you couldn’t give two craps about either of these stories, but I know Merlin, Bratch and I will have many fond memories of a man called Doc.
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
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2 comments:
What!!?! I remember that story; I didn't know that it was Doc though. I know Joe's dad used to rock it out with Doc. I bet if we compiled stories about him it would be an unbelievable story. Dad, has told me a few things about his Doc as a child. It really fits with how he became the way he was. I guess the problem with collecting the stories is that many of the witnesses probably can't remember much of the 80's and 90's much less specific stories.
I do have couple of good ones up my sleave as well as some "conspiracy" theories. The one I personally remember witnessing was when some guy came to "visit" Doc and my grandmother was watching me. We were looking out the window just as her gigantic mean dog chased the guy to the car. I am not kidding when I say that he dove head first into the open window and the dog hit the side of the car like a pit bull.
Mammaw Raley really seemed to get a kick out of that one.
Dad had a good one too. Since Doc used to walk or sometimes ride a bike most everywhere he went, Dad picked him up one day to give him a ride.
They chatted a little bit and then Doc asked if Dad minded if he smoked in his truck. Since Dad is a smoker, he obviously didn't care.
What Dad didn't realize was that when Doc meant "smoke" he really meant smoke a joint.
Dad said it took two weeks for the smell to leave his truck.
Ahh, the sweet leaf.
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