Outside of a Memphis, Tennessee courthouse, a shoeshine stand acquired one of its regular customers. Three elevated chairs were available, the patron took the middle seat. Looking up at the middle-aged Fats Domino-like man in need of service, a slender white teenager, who wore a blond crew cut, greeted the gent. Unsullied was the milky suit of the customer. However, the shoeshine boy’s grey t-shirt, blue jeans and blue tennis shoes had dirt smudges.
“Summer in the South is worse than a grill at full blast, especially this time of the day. At twelve noon, no divine hand is goin’ to adjust the charcoal grill’s temperature. Nothing is goin’ to be exempt from this great Clambake. What’s wrong with you, Elvis Aaron Presley? You’re workin’ like some King Creole. Wake up, boy, it’s August 16th, 1977 in America.” The customer placed his newspaper on an empty seat to the right of him.
“Hello there, Colonel P, I-I-I was rememberin’ this here dream I had about a night ago. It’s got me “All Shook Up.” While recalling and discussing the dream, the boy stopped polishing the large black man’s White Bucks.
“Go on and tell me about it, but don’t get so distracted that you forget what you’re doin’. I do declare, son, somethin’ made you Girl Happy.”
“Uh-huh, yes, sir.” Upon realizing that he was neglecting his work, the boy proceeded to polish the shoes. “Well, it’s like this, in my dream, I became this big music star loved by millions. Oh, yeah and the President of the United States gave me a law badge and shook my hand.”
“You got to be joshin’. Next you’re gonna tell me that you was rich. Plus you had long greasy hair and you was wigglin’ like a red light hoochie coochie mama.”
“I-I-I don’t rightly recollect.”
“That’s got to be the biggest fool dream that I ever heard about in my whole black life.”
The portly man began to laugh hard. Disturbed by the thunderous guffaw, pedestrians looked over to find the reason for the amusement.
“I-I-I know, Colonel, I know it was a weird dream.”
“Perhaps you were famous in another life. And as some kind of punishment for something you said or did, you were given your present life in Hell.”
“Ain’t I still in Memphis, sir?”
“Forget it, son. You got to be the craziest redneck that I’ve ever seen, but you sure are the best shoeshine boy in the South. You know how to make a brother’s shoes out gleam stars.”
“Thank you, thank you very much.”
Copyright 2011
by Bob McNeil
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