A very wise man once gave a co-worker of mine some sage advice.
This gentleman was a homeless fellow that looked like one of the Bushwhackers of World Wrestling Federation fame: Shaved head, bushy beard, bulbous gut, sunburned from head to toe. He pushed around a shopping cart holding all his worldly belongings, as well as a great, big rock in the cart bottom.
He used to come into Mountain Mike’s Pizza, and occasionally order garlic cheese bread, hollering at the cook, “put a little extra cheese on that; could you do that for a brother?” Other times he just opened up the Parmesan shakers, dumped it out, and ate.
He went, alternately, by the names Stanley Irvin and Brother Thrash.
One day, he came up to one of the busboys, a lad by the name of Jason Carroll, still in high school or just recently graduated at the time, and gave to him words of wisdom that, upon hearing, I made my mantra. He put his arm around Jason and said, “Son, let me give ya Brother Thrash’s Three Lessons of Life: Git yer education, stay off the drugs, and stick with the women,” the last part being said slower, and with emphasis.
No person has ever given a more profound and truthful discourse. And to think, he gave it out for free.
No comments:
Post a Comment