Four years ago a wonderful woman opened a little jazz club in a little house in our little town. She brought talent mostly from the San Francisco Bay area to play here. It was a great little place and greatly appreciated by the local people. She painted a mural of jazz greats on the sidewalk of the house leading up to the club. It still remains there today.
One year later the owner, an insurance salesman, kicked her out of the place and opened up an insurance office. I was crestfallen. But even more so this woman was completely disheartened about losing her little club. I talked to her daughter a short time after it closed and apparently, the owner just kicked them out- no reason needed.
Today I passed that building and the insurance company was gone. There was a little sign in front of the house "For Rent". Below the words an empty space where one would normally write a phone number. I had the sudden urge to write "SCUM_BAG" in that space. I even had a black marker in my pocket but I passed it too quickly. As I thought about it, I realized that I was still angry about that injustice.
Tomorrow I will write "SCUMBAG" on the sign- with forethought and malice. It is something that I would not ordinarily do, but I think that the occasion demands it.
Perhaps I will be arrested and will thus publicize the injustice.
No comments:
Post a Comment