This whole thing started a few weeks ago
when I was in downtown Silver Spring with my film group working on our
dystopian trailer. We were shooting a fight scene in the mall. It was so obvious
it was staged. Our slaps and punches never connected; we were like bad actors
doing a Three Stooges skit. And we were laughing. And one of us was recording
it on a video camera. And I was in a not very believable costume as an old man
with a cane, my hair spray painted gray. Then a mall cop came over to us and
said, “Hey, put that away. No taking pictures in the mall.” We obediently followed
his instructions and stopped recording but he was not satisfied. He said, “I’m
afraid I can’t have you taking pictures in the mall. I’m gonna have to ask you
to leave.” It didn’t really matter; we
already got all the footage we needed, but we acted all upset and grumbled on
our way out.
Most families would scold their children
for getting kicked out of a mall, not mine! I immediately called my granddad
when I got home, because when he was my age he had a BIG problem with authority
and did this kind of thing every day. But I don’t think his behavior was
innocent like mine. And I don’t think he did much homework on the weekends. Granddad
says when he got my voice mail all he could do was yell YAAAAY! This was one
proud grandfather; his grandson was finally taking after him. He’s always telling
me stories about his days as a member of the Fifth and Kennedy "Gang", and about
all the pranks they pulled and cops they ran away from. He and a few of the other men that were in
the "gang" still see each other regularly and even go on vacation together with
their wives. One of their wives warned me not to say that I like anything like
a glass or a knickknack in a restaurant or at somebody’s house because one of
the "gang" will probably “lift” it for me.
They’re still at it.
So Granddad said that he would talk to
Bill Steed, another man in the "gang", to see if I could join up now that I got
in trouble in the city. About a week later he called me back and said that he
discussed the matter with the leading members of the "gang", and in a 3 to 2 vote
they named me a junior member of the Fifth and Kennedy "Gang". He said to
call him back if I ever get chased off by a real cop, and I’ll probably have a
shot at full "gang" membership. So yea, I’m now officially associated with my aunt,
my grandfather and a bunch of other senior outlaws. I know, terrifying right?
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