Kids say the darnedest things.
I had occasion to ride the #15 Belmont bus. The #15 and I go way back. It winds from Northeast Portland all the way to uppity Northwest. Since I’ve moved to Lents, the area wedged between The Numbers and Felony Flats, I don’t ride the #15 on the east side much. This particular trip was amusing and educational, if you’re not a stickler for actual facts.
A boy and girl in the 18-20 year-old range were sitting behind me. Their conversation was hard to follow. I think they may have just came from getting matched tongue-piercings. (Hold the tip of your tongue and speak: That’s what it sounded like.) While I knew not to expect much from the conversation spillover, I got sucked in.
I will try to re-enact the conversation as follows, but be warned. I don’t think I can get myself down to that level of “Duhhh” this early in the morning…
(Bus approaches 39th Avenue.)
Boy: “Look! Dude musta got capped right near here.”
Girl: “How you know?”
Boy: “They named a street after him.”
Girl: “Who got capped?”
Boy: “Cesar Chavez. They got his name on the corner.”
Girl: “Wonder what he did?”
Boy: “Prolly wrong place wrong time.”
Girl: “You mean like MLK?”
Boy: “Nah, *he* got capped because a whitey didn’t like what he heard MLK saying. Whitey followed him to his motel room and capped him from behind as he was goin’ in.”
Girl: “Yeah, wasn’t it Hitler that shot him?”
Boy: “No, Hitler didn’t do that one. Some other pissed-off dude at a motel in the south.”
Girl: “I thought he was shot on a stage somewhere?”
Boy: “Nah, they just made it look that way. He pissed off some Southern cracker, and the cracker put one in the back of his head.”
Girl: “Oh. What Cesar whats-his-name do?”
Boy: “I dunno. I think he made salad stuff. You know, like Orville Redenbacher…”
We passed the food cart pod and Movie Madness, and they changed subjects. I stared out the window, shuddering as I pondered the fate of humanity.
Stay in school, kids.
Contributed by Cosmic Charlie (@CosmicCharlie97).