When I was 19 I had a job in Kalamazoo on the downtown mall at Louie's News and Pipe shop. I ran the cash register and sold people their newspapers, magazines, books, gifts, pipes, cigars and tobacco. Louie the owner was really nice to everyone with money, and personally helped them as if they were royalty. He had me wait on everyone else.
I used to see weird people down there. There was a little man with an orange mining helmet, who was so hunched over he walked with a little cane that was only one foot long. It was absolutely the strangest thing you have ever seen. He looked like he had a huge hump on his back but it was hard to be sure. He was always carrying a black metal lunch box. I always wondered where he had come from and where he was going, we had no coal mines in Kalamazoo. It took him forever to get across the street, and it was mesmerizing.
There was a guy who was my age named Steven who came in and bought Variety, Box Office, and Amusement Business magazines. He looked like a strange Bob Dylan impersonator, and he had that vibe that he had been hiding out from his fans and had been living on the run. Except he didn't have fans, we were the only people who knew him. His gimmick was he knew the top songs from every week since the 1930's. He knew the chart positions, how long it was on the charts, how many records it sold. He knew it all and he was impossible to throw unless you made up a song completely, in which case he would get mad and leave. His clothes were threadbare and he didn't know personal grooming. He had obviously avoided the educational system completely, and I envied him for that.
There was an extremely odd little elfin guy named Lee who came in and bought strange magazines that you would never have imagined even existed, stuff about strange occurrences and phenomena, an issue devoted to rating cowboy stories, magazines about underwater scuba equipment, how to best spy on people, underground swinger lifestyles, and strange martial arts systems that only a few dozen people in the world knew about. You could tell he had some horrible thing happen to him physically when he was young, something big like he fell out of an airplane or was attacked by sharks. He didn't talk so much as howl in this weird wolf like sing song voice. He would clear everyone out of the store in less than a minute. I used to feel so horrible for him until I found out he was an incredible bigot.
One late fall afternoon just in the moment before dusk I was just standing behind the register thinking about going home. Something made me turn my head to look outside, and there was Muhammad Ali standing outside looking down the street. He had on a black suit and red tie. I was struck by how huge he was, and how just standing there looking down the street, he was as charismatic a person as I had ever seen. He suddenly made a face and stooped down as if he was going to fight some very short person, and a little boy ran into his arms. Then the boy's sister ran up and hugged Ali and chatted excitedly to him, and they all started walking down the street. By this time I had realized that he must be heading to the boxing club that was at the other end of the mall. The people that had the club had said they knew him, but that was the kind of thing you didn't believe until you saw it for yourself. I knew he lived in Michigan, but this was the first time I had seen him, and I was really shocked and amazed. I looked around quickly and saw the store was empty, and I ran outside so I could get one last look at him. He and the kids had only made it about 50 feet down the mall, but already there were probably a hundred people or more who had come out of the stores and dropped what they were doing to simply follow him and be with him.
When I came back in the store Louie had come out from the back and I shouted "Muhammad Ali just walked by here!"
"Ehh, he's walked by here lots of times," Louie said.
I used to see weird people down there. There was a little man with an orange mining helmet, who was so hunched over he walked with a little cane that was only one foot long. It was absolutely the strangest thing you have ever seen. He looked like he had a huge hump on his back but it was hard to be sure. He was always carrying a black metal lunch box. I always wondered where he had come from and where he was going, we had no coal mines in Kalamazoo. It took him forever to get across the street, and it was mesmerizing.
There was a guy who was my age named Steven who came in and bought Variety, Box Office, and Amusement Business magazines. He looked like a strange Bob Dylan impersonator, and he had that vibe that he had been hiding out from his fans and had been living on the run. Except he didn't have fans, we were the only people who knew him. His gimmick was he knew the top songs from every week since the 1930's. He knew the chart positions, how long it was on the charts, how many records it sold. He knew it all and he was impossible to throw unless you made up a song completely, in which case he would get mad and leave. His clothes were threadbare and he didn't know personal grooming. He had obviously avoided the educational system completely, and I envied him for that.
There was an extremely odd little elfin guy named Lee who came in and bought strange magazines that you would never have imagined even existed, stuff about strange occurrences and phenomena, an issue devoted to rating cowboy stories, magazines about underwater scuba equipment, how to best spy on people, underground swinger lifestyles, and strange martial arts systems that only a few dozen people in the world knew about. You could tell he had some horrible thing happen to him physically when he was young, something big like he fell out of an airplane or was attacked by sharks. He didn't talk so much as howl in this weird wolf like sing song voice. He would clear everyone out of the store in less than a minute. I used to feel so horrible for him until I found out he was an incredible bigot.
One late fall afternoon just in the moment before dusk I was just standing behind the register thinking about going home. Something made me turn my head to look outside, and there was Muhammad Ali standing outside looking down the street. He had on a black suit and red tie. I was struck by how huge he was, and how just standing there looking down the street, he was as charismatic a person as I had ever seen. He suddenly made a face and stooped down as if he was going to fight some very short person, and a little boy ran into his arms. Then the boy's sister ran up and hugged Ali and chatted excitedly to him, and they all started walking down the street. By this time I had realized that he must be heading to the boxing club that was at the other end of the mall. The people that had the club had said they knew him, but that was the kind of thing you didn't believe until you saw it for yourself. I knew he lived in Michigan, but this was the first time I had seen him, and I was really shocked and amazed. I looked around quickly and saw the store was empty, and I ran outside so I could get one last look at him. He and the kids had only made it about 50 feet down the mall, but already there were probably a hundred people or more who had come out of the stores and dropped what they were doing to simply follow him and be with him.
When I came back in the store Louie had come out from the back and I shouted "Muhammad Ali just walked by here!"
"Ehh, he's walked by here lots of times," Louie said.