Chapter four GREY MAN: Grey Man Beginnings
“Grey Man” my definition: Someone who does not draw undo attention from people but only because he chooses not to be noticed in order to gain a superior tactical advantage.
Grey man began for me at an early age. When I was five years old in 1964 and I had the nasty habit of chewing old used cigarette butts that the homeless people left lying along the street. I didn’t know it but I was addicted to nicotine I guess. I could not walk past an old cigarette butt without making an attempts to grab it while holding my mom’s hand, as we were shopping in downtown Sandusky, OH. Occasionally my mom would look down wondering why I was tugging at her hand and she would find me reaching for smoked cigarette butts lying in the street gutter or in a street corner ash tray. I was immediately scolded and told to stop that filthy habit! My Mom was a smoker so I was able to start my journey chewing butts out of her ashtray at home and somehow I guess that was not as bad because she did not scold me as much for that.
My parents both decided to sit me down and tell me that I needed to change my behavior. I was embarrassing them in front of their friends by chewing old cigarettes butts. I did not understand this so I said, “so?”
They next told me I could catch diseases from old butts and again not knowing what a disease was I said, “so?”
But next they said look, that monkey you saw on TV is ‘yours’ if you stop chewing cigarette butts for two weeks. Now they had my attention. I said Clancy the Great is mine if I don’t chew butts? Yes, they said. I said hell yeah you gotta deal! Now you have to understand this monkey was battery operated, and if you held his hand it would walk/skate with you and be your best friend. You could put his hat in his hand and throw quarters in it. Oh God I wanted that monkey. It was the best friend a five year old could ever have.
Well the next two weeks were tough for me. I know now I was going through nicotine withdrawal but I had to get that monkey off my back to get a new Clancy monkey in my hand. The two weeks went by slowly and my parents would take me to the Giant Tiger store to visit Clancy and remind me how wonderful it would be to have a friend like Clancy.
After two weeks, I kicked the habit and was a clean 5 year old now. I did not have the same admiration for dirty cigarette butts I had only a year ago. Editor’s Note* Two weeks is a year in 5 year old time. I now demanded my monkey. Well a few days went by of my begging for the monkey still hopefully at the Tiger store. I was afraid some other kid would get my monkey friend. My parents said they had to wait until payday to get the money to buy it. I did not know what a payday was so I said, “so?”
But finally the day came, oh joyous day! My dad seemed overly eager to drive to the Tiger store for some reason. I jumped in the car with dad and were heading toward the Giant store on Columbus Avenue in Sandusky Ohio, at a blistering 35 mph in the family Ford station wagon. . He kept listening to the car radio about some big fire.
But here is the rub. When we got to the store it was on FIRE! Oh God! Fire trucks were everywhere. My dad pulled into the parking lot to watch the show. My young eyes darted back and forth between seeing the fire trucks and the flames of the building as only a five year old can look. We knew about where the monkey in the aisle was and I wanted my dad to run into the blazing department store fire and buy my monkey! He said no, he would be burned alive. I did not know what it meant to be burned alive but it didn’t sound good so I said. “so?” He did not seem to remember that we were even there to buy my monkey? I started to think “he” only went to the store to watch the fire and never had any
intention of buying/rescuing Clancy the monkey. Finally the fire department ordered my dad to get his fucking junky car out of the way so at that point we pulled away from the fiery inferno rubbernecking all the way down the street. When I looked back I saw the building roof collapse and the fire leap into the air, I knew then that the chances of saving Clancy were getting mighty slim. I saw no firemen holding a rescued monkey anywhere. There was nothing on the radio on the way home that a monkey was rescued by the fire department. The news headline in the Sandusky Register news paper should not have been “Tiger Store Burns” but it should have read “Boy Loses Monkey.”
It was over for me, my monkey was gone. Then I thought perhaps, just perhaps, since my monkey was battery operated it ran out the back door and survived! I made my dad go the store the next day to see if my monkey survived. I think my dad just wanted to check out the mess. Alas a huge burnt out building but no monkey survived. Shiiioootttt! Pronounced: ‘Sheee ot.’
We drove home and I was quietly, but loudly, bawling my eyes out, My Monkey! Clancy is gone. I earned that monkey, I wanted that monkey, I wanted to find it at a different store at a higher price even, but all my parents said was stop talking about that damn monkey. I did, else I would have tasted the business end of my dad’s belt.
I realized later that if I was a grey man super hero, I could have dressed as a short fireman, snuck past the real firemen, run into that burning building and saved Clancy. He was an innocent victim of a poor or non-existent building fire sprinkler system and a crappy fire department.
The whole episode changed me in many ways because I learned many lessons about life and a lot about love. It was pivotal for me. That day I suffered the loss of a loved one, Clancy. I knew now that if you worked hard you would be fucking robbed or cheated. Life is all a con game. I knew now that I was an embarrassment to my parents. The fire was all meant to get me off cigarette butt chewing without buying me my monkey. I learned that parents are inherently evil filthy fucking liars that have no understanding of what a battery operated piece of plastic could mean to a young boy of 5. I learned that true power comes from the barrel of dad’s leather belt. And certainly, I learned those 7 fire departments full of Firemen while might be great at saving people’s lives at the Tiger store fire, “ain’t worth a fucking shit when it came to saving plastic monkeys.” It took me a lifetime to unlearn the lessons of that day. Old burnt cigarette butts never tasted so sweet again. I also had doubts now…perhaps if my father had not parked his shitty station wagon in the way of the fire trucks Clancy would be with me today. Perhaps if I had not wanted to buy Clancy that day over fifty years ago then Clancy would still be wasting up batteries in my bedroom. Who knows?
Experienced by: The Grey Ghost
“Grey Man” my definition: Someone who does not draw undo attention from people but only because he chooses not to be noticed in order to gain a superior tactical advantage.
Grey man began for me at an early age. When I was five years old in 1964 and I had the nasty habit of chewing old used cigarette butts that the homeless people left lying along the street. I didn’t know it but I was addicted to nicotine I guess. I could not walk past an old cigarette butt without making an attempts to grab it while holding my mom’s hand, as we were shopping in downtown Sandusky, OH. Occasionally my mom would look down wondering why I was tugging at her hand and she would find me reaching for smoked cigarette butts lying in the street gutter or in a street corner ash tray. I was immediately scolded and told to stop that filthy habit! My Mom was a smoker so I was able to start my journey chewing butts out of her ashtray at home and somehow I guess that was not as bad because she did not scold me as much for that.
My parents both decided to sit me down and tell me that I needed to change my behavior. I was embarrassing them in front of their friends by chewing old cigarettes butts. I did not understand this so I said, “so?”
They next told me I could catch diseases from old butts and again not knowing what a disease was I said, “so?”
But next they said look, that monkey you saw on TV is ‘yours’ if you stop chewing cigarette butts for two weeks. Now they had my attention. I said Clancy the Great is mine if I don’t chew butts? Yes, they said. I said hell yeah you gotta deal! Now you have to understand this monkey was battery operated, and if you held his hand it would walk/skate with you and be your best friend. You could put his hat in his hand and throw quarters in it. Oh God I wanted that monkey. It was the best friend a five year old could ever have.
Well the next two weeks were tough for me. I know now I was going through nicotine withdrawal but I had to get that monkey off my back to get a new Clancy monkey in my hand. The two weeks went by slowly and my parents would take me to the Giant Tiger store to visit Clancy and remind me how wonderful it would be to have a friend like Clancy.
After two weeks, I kicked the habit and was a clean 5 year old now. I did not have the same admiration for dirty cigarette butts I had only a year ago. Editor’s Note* Two weeks is a year in 5 year old time. I now demanded my monkey. Well a few days went by of my begging for the monkey still hopefully at the Tiger store. I was afraid some other kid would get my monkey friend. My parents said they had to wait until payday to get the money to buy it. I did not know what a payday was so I said, “so?”
But finally the day came, oh joyous day! My dad seemed overly eager to drive to the Tiger store for some reason. I jumped in the car with dad and were heading toward the Giant store on Columbus Avenue in Sandusky Ohio, at a blistering 35 mph in the family Ford station wagon. . He kept listening to the car radio about some big fire.
But here is the rub. When we got to the store it was on FIRE! Oh God! Fire trucks were everywhere. My dad pulled into the parking lot to watch the show. My young eyes darted back and forth between seeing the fire trucks and the flames of the building as only a five year old can look. We knew about where the monkey in the aisle was and I wanted my dad to run into the blazing department store fire and buy my monkey! He said no, he would be burned alive. I did not know what it meant to be burned alive but it didn’t sound good so I said. “so?” He did not seem to remember that we were even there to buy my monkey? I started to think “he” only went to the store to watch the fire and never had any
intention of buying/rescuing Clancy the monkey. Finally the fire department ordered my dad to get his fucking junky car out of the way so at that point we pulled away from the fiery inferno rubbernecking all the way down the street. When I looked back I saw the building roof collapse and the fire leap into the air, I knew then that the chances of saving Clancy were getting mighty slim. I saw no firemen holding a rescued monkey anywhere. There was nothing on the radio on the way home that a monkey was rescued by the fire department. The news headline in the Sandusky Register news paper should not have been “Tiger Store Burns” but it should have read “Boy Loses Monkey.”
It was over for me, my monkey was gone. Then I thought perhaps, just perhaps, since my monkey was battery operated it ran out the back door and survived! I made my dad go the store the next day to see if my monkey survived. I think my dad just wanted to check out the mess. Alas a huge burnt out building but no monkey survived. Shiiioootttt! Pronounced: ‘Sheee ot.’
We drove home and I was quietly, but loudly, bawling my eyes out, My Monkey! Clancy is gone. I earned that monkey, I wanted that monkey, I wanted to find it at a different store at a higher price even, but all my parents said was stop talking about that damn monkey. I did, else I would have tasted the business end of my dad’s belt.
I realized later that if I was a grey man super hero, I could have dressed as a short fireman, snuck past the real firemen, run into that burning building and saved Clancy. He was an innocent victim of a poor or non-existent building fire sprinkler system and a crappy fire department.
The whole episode changed me in many ways because I learned many lessons about life and a lot about love. It was pivotal for me. That day I suffered the loss of a loved one, Clancy. I knew now that if you worked hard you would be fucking robbed or cheated. Life is all a con game. I knew now that I was an embarrassment to my parents. The fire was all meant to get me off cigarette butt chewing without buying me my monkey. I learned that parents are inherently evil filthy fucking liars that have no understanding of what a battery operated piece of plastic could mean to a young boy of 5. I learned that true power comes from the barrel of dad’s leather belt. And certainly, I learned those 7 fire departments full of Firemen while might be great at saving people’s lives at the Tiger store fire, “ain’t worth a fucking shit when it came to saving plastic monkeys.” It took me a lifetime to unlearn the lessons of that day. Old burnt cigarette butts never tasted so sweet again. I also had doubts now…perhaps if my father had not parked his shitty station wagon in the way of the fire trucks Clancy would be with me today. Perhaps if I had not wanted to buy Clancy that day over fifty years ago then Clancy would still be wasting up batteries in my bedroom. Who knows?
Experienced by: The Grey Ghost
