Michael

At a dinner party once I thought it would be entertaining  to all sit around the dinner table and talk about the strangest job we ever had.  As we went around the table everyone offered up some desperate, comical job they once had.  As I  suspected coming from a relatively eclectic crowd there was a wide variety of jobs.  Used car sales men,  a door to door  peep hole representative and even the not so expected female porn actress.  I have had many jobs but the strangest job I have ever had was one of my first jobs when I was seventeen years old working for B. L.  Concessions.  

It was a concession stand job serving up  soft drinks, popcorn, chili dogs and other snacks.  We had several alternative locations  that were all contracted out by this B. L. Concessions.  First was the race tracks in Kansas City KS.  a loud and foul,  fuel injected sort of place that echoed the repetitive monotonous drone of race car engines.  People in ball caps would swelter under the hot sun baking in a dust bowl of fumes, eyes glued to the cars that made their rounds.  Secondly was Memorial Hall also in Kansas City Kansas,  a memorable venue that hosted the likes of up and coming emerging bands and ALL STAR WRESTLING,  where I would meet the notorious Bull Dog Bob Brown, a burly fellow with a blonde crew cut that liked to say smart ass one liners.   Part of the job detail was to get to work early before the show started to set up stuff like the chili pot. One early evening before the concert, while decked out in my red, white and blue thick polyester clad uniform I was driven by curiosity.  I poked my head into the auditorium and to my surprise  there was the band DEVO practicing. They were  just kicking into the song Whip It.  Moving with mechanical motions while wearing rediculous flower pot looking head gear, I thought wow how great is this I am the only person standing here in this whole auditorium with DEVO the year was 1980.  I was asked to leave shortly after that by some roady dude.  Incidentally, I recently watched on youtube a video of Devo doing Whip It, a very strange and twisted 80's scene indeed.  The third place I worked concessions was at the Starlight Theatre way east of town in Kansas City Missouri.  A beautiful theatre  that  sets in the middle of the undulating grounds of Kansas City Swope Park  the largest park in Kansas City and the 29th largest municipal park in the United States. This outdoor theatre is accented by two imposing brick towers that flank the stage under the stars.  Here I would see too many concerts to mention some good some bad.  However, during the late 70's and early 80's was not such a good time economically for Starlight Theatre.


 One particular summer night I  worked at the Starlight Theatre where the feature  band that evening was the R and B vocal group the O'Jays.  As usual I got to work early before the show started.  Found a parking spot  way up front close to the entrance to the theatre. Another young girl and I set up our stand and were ready when the crowds came  for the show.  The crowd was predominately African American, the only white people I saw there were  myself and a few others that were working that night.  I stayed busy serving up drinks and snacks, the hot summer night was full of partying people and reeked of Marijuana.  The Ojay's played their hit songs  like Use Ta Be My girl, Love Train and Back Stabbers while the crowd grew more and more intoxicated.  There were many characters that night, as is typical for a concert during that time and era.  There was a man that stood out in particular that I waited on, he looked at me with evil eyes and made me feel nervous, exposed and vulnerable. It was the kind of look that you knew he was up to no good.  For the Love of Money was another one of the O'Jays hits songs that played that night. It recently has been rejuvenated and is now the theme song for Donald Trumps Apprentice show .  The night was a blurr of frenzied drinks, popcorn and the occasional chili dog until I noticed this same man was back again   This time he was trying to get into the stall where I was working, he attempted to open what was a half door with an edge like counter on it. I slammed it shut against his ribs he grimaced and was double over in pain. I felt bad for a second until he was back again, plundering in and pawing at the cash box, a flimsy metal box that set out in the open on the back counter next to the chili pot.  The chili pot has fallen over during the intrusion, chili is splattered everywhere and the other girl working with me is screaming.  This man the robber has taken off with the cash box now on foot and has run into the deep thick of the night where 1769 acres of  rolling park,  trees and brush  offer places for him to hide.  Shaken up, a police officer on a big rusty colored horse tries to comfort me.  I have been asked to stay and fill out police reports instead of cutting out early like we usually did just right after the intermission of the show.  I go back to a dimly lit small office where a couple of police  officers and the manager of the starlight ask me questions. " What did he look like" ' well he was medium height kind of muscular he wore a white T shirt' "did he have any distinctive tattoos or anything?"  I say ' yes he had a gold cap on his front tooth with a playboy bunny cut out on it' The concert was playing it final song for the night when they were done asking me  questions, it was time to release me so I could finally go home. 


  I, along with several thousand other people made our way into the  dark ubiquitous  parking lot.  I found my mother's blue metallic Honda Accord and started up the engine.  This was one of the very first years in the U.S for the Honda to come out.   Who would of thought that this small non assuming blue hatch back would pave the way to some of the world's greatest engineered and economic cars.  The temperature gage has swung over deep into the red  and has just reached the over heating point, I can't believe my eyes. I haven't barely even begun to get out of the parking lot and still have a long long way to go before I even get out of the park.  The traffic is bumper to bumper, moving at a snails pace there are hundreds of people everywhere outside partying, drinking and smoking, socializing and looking at me while billows of smoke  pour out of my mothers car.  I grip the steering wheel hard now determined that if I could just make it home some how every thing would be ok.  A man  puts his head in front of my wind shield and tells me " pull over baby I got some antifreeze"  I can't I am too afraid I have just been robbed and there's a man out there somewhere in the woods with sore ribs. Another man puts his hands up to the drivers windows there's rings all over his fingers  he says "do you want to buy this pinky ring?"  I sputter down the road some how getting ahead, slowly while the radiators puffs out it last final breaths.  There are still people everywhere looking at me I am the only white person around for miles. Another man opens his hands out in front of me and there  are 5 or 6 tiny airplane alcohol bottles in his hands he wants me to pull over.  I am going crazy with fear and helplessness.  I just want to go and move forward, get out of there.  My car has managed to get me from where the Starlight Theatre parking lot was and  down a long and winding road of what seemed liked at least several miles to what is the main entrance to Kansas City Swope Park.  I can see the sign and the stone walls on either side of the entrance.   I have no idea what I will do once I get past there but at least  I wont be in the park anymore. My car stalls.... it wont start.... it's dead and I am  seventeen year old girl, stuck and don't know what to do.  Another  young black man put's his head up to my window and says " put your car in neutral "  I reply NO he says 
" Put your car in neutral  I am going to push you over here to the side to get you off the road." In a instance my mind flips through  a rolodex of variables I weigh out my options. No I will stay here and try to restart my car, no I will stay here by myself and get nowhere, or you could help me and I could really use some help right about now.  I put my car in neutral and he pushes my car just over to the side of the road right by the stone wall to the left of  the entrance to Swope Park.  I get out of the car feeling pretty freaked out, shaky and exhausted. The  young mans offers his hand and says "Hello my name is Michael."


While beading the other day I reach into my drawer of old vintage Saints and pull out St. Michael a thin banged up pot metal medallion that bears the image of the Virgin Mary on one side and St. Michael on the other.  He stands there on top  of what appears be a dragon or is Satan? He's  triumphant and warrior like in his stature.  He carries a sword and a set of scales.  He has weighed out his options and chooses what is fair and for the good of mankind. He is the patron saint of chivalry, Police officers and Firefighters. If you ask me chivalry has always been underrated in my book and is wonderful quality to have.


My mind wanders, remembering that summer night under the stars some 30 years ago.  The sound of his voice, the fear in my chest, the red, white and blue stripes of my polyester uniform and the small oval patch over my heart embroidered B.L. Concessions.  I explained to Michael that he didn't know what all I had already been through that night if I seemed jaded - I was.  I had been working I got robbed, the chili pot and all these people, my mom's car.  He told me he would walk me back to the theatre.  I excepted his offer.  We took off into the grass veering away from the all the people, walking determinedly we made our way as the crows fly back to the two towers talking the whole time.   As we walked, he spoked calmly and matter of fact about the ways of world. I was comforted by him and very thankful to have had his company during our "walk in the park"  together.  We arrived back to the theatre and I showed him where my managers office was.  My manager agreed to give me a ride home.  I said good bye to Michael and thanked him for walking me back.  He disappeared quickly, leaving me with a memory that I have now stewed around with for almost 30 years.  


My manager was a descent looking older man with greying hair a pretty even keel, cool sort of guy.  We got into his car and made our way west through Missouri and over the state line and into Kansas.  My parents lived just two blocks  west of State line Road in Kansas.  I remember a Fleetwood Mac song coming on the radio the album Rumours had come out in 1977 the song was The Chain. I told my manager that I liked this song, he pulled all the way up our long driveway and drove around to the back of my parent's house where the back door was.  I thanked him for the ride he watched me closely as I opened the back door with my keys and went safely inside.  There in the pitch dark I breathed, naively expecting warm hugs or to be embraced by something but there was only darkness.  Things never seem like the way they should be.  I remember once my father told me that when he was a teenage boy he went out one night.  He came home very late and his family was there waiting for him they had all stayed up and were in the living room waiting for him.  His mother, brother and sister were sitting in their chairs with stone, cold sober looks on their faces. He had thought they were angry because he had stayed out too late past his curfew. He couldn't understand what the big deal was.  They had staid up to tell him his 54 year old father had died that night of a sudden heart attack. My father went to his room and started to read his Bible. 


There was nothing but still darkness in the house, my parents were sound asleep upstairs.  It was very late now but I was wide awake. I made my way up the winding, creaking stairs and went into my parents room where they lie asleep.  I nudged my mother awake.  She was very groggy, I explained to her and my now awakening father that I had gotten robbed that night at the Starlight and this was the reason why I was late getting home if they were wondering.  I explained also that my mom's car had broken down, over heated or something and I had left it at the entrance of Swope Park.  A nice boy named Michael walked me all the way back to the theatre and my manager had to give me ride home.  They asked me if I was ok.  I was, they were glad and relieved.  I went to bed that night, the next day I called my boyfriend at the time and told him everything.  He said " a lot of weird things sure do happen to you."  I didn't know what to think about that. My parent sent for a tow truck to pick the car up from the park, it had been stripped of it's battery and some other parts.  My mother felt violated. 


So in the end this was my job and there would be plenty of other jobs that I would take on begrudgingly or with pride. All in the name of money, growth and most of all character. I still remember Michael and like to think that he was a saint sent down to save me. In all actuality he was probably just a descent person that saw another person that  could use some help.  Chivalrous in manor and most of all descent I appreciate this and also feel there are many people in this world that would probably do the same, given the chance.  At the same token I have always believed that if you have a job to do you might as well do it well.  There isn't enough honor in the work that needs to be done these days.  




" It is the experience and the poor work of every day which alone will ripen in the long run, and allow one to do something completer and truer. We must work as much and with as few pretensions as a peasant, if we want to last."

Vincent Van Gogh

 I don't make chili dogs anymore I am an artist and at best I make things or weave a tale with history and honor what seems to be my enchanted  past.