King o’Dirt

“Dude, I scored.”

“No way.”

“Way. You know her. Big-tits, bleached blond. ”

“Craig’s MOM?”

“She let me.”

“Dude. Yuck. That’ disgusting. She’s a ho. We going to King o’Dirt or not?”

“How are we going to get there?”


“That’s like, I dunno, fifteen miles?”

“Martha will take us to Mission. We just gotta’ get to Martha’s house.”

“We can take the trolley to downtown then ride from there. What’s that?”

“Five miles or something. Not that far.”

“Will Martha do it?”

“She will. I bet she’ll take the video camera. It’ll be rad.”



Note: It’s doubtful the word “brassy” was used in this conversation.

4 thoughts on “King o’Dirt

    • These boys lived in my neighborhood when I lived in the Barrio in San Diego. After the Rodney King stuff when Jimmy got beaten up and his bike stolen, he went to live in Imperial Beach with his uncle. His mom still lived up the road from me.

      I don’t have any way to explain the phenomenon. I had never been their age (I had to grow up ahead of schedule) so maybe it was my turn to be a young teenager in a way, but with grown up sensibilities. As a colleague described us — we were a gang. I liked them a lot and that feeling was returned. I was — I now know — a very necessary “other adult” in their lives, and they were the only group of friends I’ve ever been a part of.

      Every Friday evening about 5 they would show up at my house and we spent the weekend filming our movie of them riding BMX. I dropped them off at the jumps and went hiking on my own, also. We’d often go eat pizza, we spent a lot of time looking at the takes of the movie and finding hew places to ride, and talking. We did a lot of talking.

      It was a real friendship but inexplicable and definitely not typical. I look on those times now as some of the best in my life. I’m very proud of the way they turned out, now middle-aged men with families and more security in life than they grew up with, that’s for sure. ❤

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