June 1972, I walked into my grandmother's apartment, heard yelling and there's Nan and four old ladies. Two I knew, two I didn't. On the kitchen table I saw signs of an abandoned pinochle game, under a swarm of green nominating petitions. Nan was an elected Democratic official and each year she faithfully navigated the party's candidates onto the primary ballot. This was a petition counting shindig. I knew this was a big argument because the contents of two Buick sized pocketbooks were emptied on top the petitions and the playing cards. Separated from the contents were two piles of wake cards. I needed no further information, this was a beef over who had some deceased person's funeral remembrance card, either a specific card or how many you had of one person. I didn't care, what I cared about was they were eating my food, drinking my Ginger Ale and ruining my amazing news.
If you want to hear what happened, come to Otto's Shrunken Head tonight @ 7pm and I'll tell you. I'm performing with the terrific storytellers below. Bring rotten fruit, aim true!