| 19 August |
Captain Planet Was Not a Gangsta |
I swear Patterson Park has to be on of those places that cosmic energies collect and explode with regular brilliance. Two days in a row now I have witnessed the best and worst of Baltimore in the same exact spot, the corner of Pratt and Ellwood.
Yesterday was the recovered stolen bike that led to a, I am sure, misunderstood lad spending the night in the pokey thanks to his bad Italian and poor choice of two wheel larceny. Today was a little stranger and potentially more dangerous but still strange in that way that only Baltimore can be.
I will attempt to replay it here to the best of my ability. I apologize for the blue language.
As I was walking my dog north on Ellwood toward Pratt I was passed by three young fellows dressed to the nines on their way to choir practice. They helped an old lady cross the street with their only reward being a smile.
No wait…that isn’t right. Oh yeah…
As I was walking my dog north on Ellwood toward Pratt I was passed by three TBGs (Typical Baltimore Gangstas) carrying McDonald’s bags on their way out of the Park. The smallest of the group was also smoking some of the most foul skunk weed I have ever crossed. They gave me the “look” as they passed. You know, the “we’re real tough ’cause there are three of us and your dog is a pussy” look to discourage me from dialing 311 on their illegal horticulture experiment burning in rolling paper. I had a dog that had to poop so I wasn’t too concerned if they found me threatening or not. They walked on toward Pratt.
As they neared the corner, one of the three dropped his Micky D’s bag on the ground not ten feet from a trash can. They did this in the presence of a little blond jogger of about 120 pounds and 40 years of age with an iPod and an attitude. She stopped dead in her tracks and right in front to the TBGs.
“Are you going to pick that up?”, she asked the ‘Lil Wayne video extras.
They looked at her like she was crazy. All I could do was prep the phone for an emergency call when they decided to kill her and try to make it to the corner before all hell broke loose in case she needed help.
“You know, this stuff really ticks me off. I live here and use this park and you jerks do everything you can to mess it up. Don’t you even care? Do you even care about this planet?”
“Fuck yo planet bitch!”, the largest of the group said rather menacingly.
This just fired up the little jogger. It was like she knew what he was going to say next way before her mouth opened.
“My planet? Where are you from? Uranus? Didn’t your mother bring you up better in Andromeda or wherever you are from?”
“We from Monument Street,” one of the bright bulbs said in response earnestly as if he had no idea what or where Uranus or Andromeda were. With that they just walked around her.
The sheer stupidity and lack of understanding in that statement floored the jogger. All she could do was watch as the stoned trio continued on there way back to Uranus which is apparently near Biddle Street.
Captain Planet. I know you are a busy guy and all but if you get a chance, find those guys and show them what for ok?
