Mr. Wiese –
How many true stories do I have to relate before someone besides Lewis Reed’s “Mary” wants to discuss the gunshots, yelling, and rather obvious drug dealing observed from 216 Nagel Avenue without really trying. My bad “inside joke?” “I’m allowed to look out the window.” And, since July of 2014, I do not like what I see. For example, please tell me I did not see my female mail carrier peeking in my window. Please tell me I did not hear her banging on my mailbox. Please tell me I did not order a free CD from a retired actor and the call taker said, “My mailman dented my mailbox too.” This conversation took place at the Shrewsbury Metrolink station. The pay phone there is now dead; I am miraculously not.
I’ve taken every civics class step toward one goal. This address no longer sells illegal drugs. I remember our city house on the North Side where the “Mr. Softie” truck would stop. My mother was “mentally ill?” I don’t think so, when the consistent message was, “You are not spoiling your dinner.” Yes, mom caved-in readily and said, “As long as you’re there, get me a banana split.” While “stuck” out in California, I dreamt of trying to get Lacy Clay’s job by standing on the North Saint Louis corner where the market once flourished, and a soda was ten cents. I can’t go to Google and remind myself of the intersecting street, because the old business partner turned-off the phone service I have been paying for since September of last year. No experience is required for politics, we should learn from the likes of Donald Trump!
Why is my phone off?
On February 22 I called “Mimi” at the Citizens Service Bureau.
On February 23 I called “Gwen” at Slay’s office.
On February 24, the phone was OFF with the bill not due until the 27th.
Am I going to miss another appointment in Chicago, Houston, or Los Angeles because I lack a motor vehicle? How about an appointment in your office during April, which I would politely cancel if I am allowed to keep the one I just made in Glendale, California. I both drove and walked around beautiful Glendale and Burbank in May/June of 2008. Later, a female hit and disabled my car. The story of what transpired after that is too long to relate. How about a “junker” car donation? How about my story of the United Way’s cheap car program the guy on a car lot told me about? The United Way response was a line I’ve heard too often. “We have no idea what you are talking about.” Where is “homeless advocate” Bill Siedhoff? I’ve got some tales that would even shock him if you and others are willing to listen.