Kenny Reed asked me to come help him get his Jazz & Poetry at the Granary, going. He wanted folks to do some art while they were there. I brought my drawing pad with me and did the profile of a tough looking dude because he looked like on of the Katzenjammer Kids, grown up. That was six years ago. Fifteen minutes ago, I had a vision! Kit Chell reminds me of Bluto who is always trying to steal Olive Oil from Popeye. Sometimes he takes her by brute force!
Half the day, and into the night, I debated about writing a short story about Kit Chell, and Jeanette, because any mention of them has caused me a world of grief, the foremost being, I did not get to say goodbye to my friend Jon Gall whose father used to drive Jen home in his MG after the Movie Buff class. Mark had a thing for Jen, and was not happy to learn I am driving Jen around in the Mustardmobile, along with Mr. H, a real Homeless Hobo. I would take Hollis and his sidekick to churches and kitchens for a free meal. H and Steve were like Lenny and George in Steinbeck’s ‘Of Mice and Men’.
I am a Beat author, and poet. I write about Beats and Bohemians who we know something about thanks to Bohemian Writers. However, in the Emerald Valley, making any observations about anyone, will get you into trouble. This is a small town. Beats and Musicians fiercely guard and nurture their image, just like professors at the UofO who Mark said were psychotic. The only people who did not give a shit, were Duck football players. But, that era is gone. Mark Gall might be the last of the Duck Bad Boys, because no one gets Kit of late. Someone told me he struts about swinging his arms and puffing out his chest. Could he be doing Bluto – without knowing it?
Jon Presco
Rosamond Press 
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