(Originally posted 05/28/12 at Trojan Horse Productions. Reblogged 03/26/14.)
Garbage in, garbage out.
I spent Memorial Day at Dunkin’ Donuts writing “A star is born.” As of noon, I’d developed the plan to wrap up about 3:00 and, on my way back to the shelter, check out this new strip joint on The Block.
I finished just in time, bought smokes at a convenience store, and headed for the bar …
… which will remain nameless. No show was happening. The bartender was in no rush to take my order. Not one female made a move to pay me any mind.
The killer was Weezy comin’ out the juke box with language I wouldn’t use in the presence of a whore.
The time had come to write this post.
I got a Heinie and a Corona, chugged them both down, and left.
Garbage in, garbage out.
Some people choose to swim in filth.
Would you choose to swim in a septic tank?
How long can you swim in there without swallowing some deadly poison?
(A little-known Baltimore fact: in the block north of City Hall, the “municipal building,” where you can pay your parking tickets and water bills, is named after a man who deserves to be a hero. Abel Wolman played a major role in putting chlorine into America’s drinking water. Before then, American tap water — like tap water in most other countries — was not safe to drink. Wolman’s work saved many tens of thousands of lives that would otherwise have been lost to cholera, typhus, or other deadly diseases.)
If you wouldn’t swim in material filth, why swim in a filth of ideas?
As an adult, you can choose what does or doesn’t come into your home.
You choose what music, if any, your children “swim in” in the car.
At any age, you choose what goes into your CD or mp3 player.
You choose what to buy.
You choose what you feed your mind.
If it has one of those “explicit” stickers on it, buy something else. Play something else.
If it’s already in your house, put it in the trash, where it belongs.
Your quality of life will improve.
The Homeless Blogger 