SAM & DAVE

For those

old enough to remember

back in the ‘60’s

there was a soul duo

known as Sam & Dave

That was the segway used to initiate my relationship with a shooting star/personal shipwreck passenger by the name of Sam, who, upon learning my name, immediately made the connection to the aforementioned duo.  I don’t know about this Sam, but this Dave can’t sing, so we will not be offering any competitive efforts.

Sam first jumped onto my bus about three years ago on a busy Sunday, and I thought I had boarded a tornado.  He immediately hung over my right shoulder, and launched into the a soliloquy of rapid staccato, using no punctuation, and seemingly not stopping to take a breath.  This went on uninterrupted for at least five minutes, making little or no sense, with Sam referencing his age, family history, medical condition, job resume, weather, friends, enemies, what’s right with the world, what’s wrong with the world, etc.

In addition to the verbal filibustering, he segwayed into grasping both overhead bars on the bus, projecting himself into the air with his knees to the ceiling, and began to do upside down pull ups.  This all done by a man in his 60’s in front of a stunned crowd.

It’s amazing what a few drugs will do.

I was able, during a pause in the onslaught, to ask him his name, which he countered with the same question, and thus was born, the Sam & Dave connection.

I have since seen Sam, off of whatever he was on in our initial encounter, and he is polite, aware of his surroundings, and really quite engaging.  I have heard from other drivers about some guy who must be a meth-head, is out of control, and who fits Sam’s description.  It must be him.

I went for more than a year without seeing Sam, until recently he showed up for a ride.  I inquired how he was doing, and he replied with a smile that he was currently residing under an Interstate 8 overpass.  In spite of camping out, he was well-groomed and didn’t look any worse for the wear.

A month later, while stopped at a light, I spotted him walking the sidewalk, honked my horn to get his attention, and opened my front door to say “Hi.”  I happened to have my bus in the left-hand turn lane, and expected him to just stay on the sidewalk, which he didn’t.  He unexpectedly crossed one lane of traffic and came right up to the open door.  In my surprised response, I said, “Hey, its great to see you, but you need to out of the street before you become road-kill!”  He was, of course, unmoved by my admonition, returned the greeting with the postscript, “Really love-ya, brother,” and safely returned to the sidewalk unscathed.

Hopefully, he will be around long enough so we can cut another album together--without the pull ups.