Monty is no Angel
My brother suggested this so I will try it. I have a neighbor named Monty from the Bronx. My brother said I should write about him because he is god-like and peaceful and a savior in my case. Here's the deal. Monty rang my doorbell the other day because he found our tax refund in the street.
This was a huge thing and I was very grateful to Monty.
Monty is a quiet, nice old man who walks up and down our streets like an elderly neighborhood watch. I do believe that he prevents crime. But he's no angel, nor is he god-like.
It's funny how you assign innocence to older people when the fact is they've lived full lives, sometimes on the fringes. So the first time I realized this about Monty was when he made a comment about my legs. He said to my son something about having a tough time keeping up with me with "those legs".
Then there was some talk about niggers. I have to say that this one of my least favorite words. It's one of those words that immediately turns me off someone. I know Monty is from the Bronx and that is no doubt a difficult place to live but I still hate the word. It's like being called a cunt. That is actuallly my least favorite word of all.
I tried to get past the nigger comments but it left a bad taste in my mouth about Monty. I politely wave to him but that's about it.
The other day he came to my door. Monty had a letter for me. He said he found it in the street. I looked at it and realized immediately it was our tax refund.
He found it in the street he said. Out in the middle of the street sat thousands of dollars that by the way we normally OWE the government.
Monty saved me. There's the rub. Monty saved me. I want to look down on him for using the "n" word but the truth is he saved me. Maybe he is always saving us in his walks around the neighborhood. I honestly don't think he's doing any harm.
Monty passed away suddenly in October. His real name was Matteo.
This was a huge thing and I was very grateful to Monty.
Monty is a quiet, nice old man who walks up and down our streets like an elderly neighborhood watch. I do believe that he prevents crime. But he's no angel, nor is he god-like.
It's funny how you assign innocence to older people when the fact is they've lived full lives, sometimes on the fringes. So the first time I realized this about Monty was when he made a comment about my legs. He said to my son something about having a tough time keeping up with me with "those legs".
Then there was some talk about niggers. I have to say that this one of my least favorite words. It's one of those words that immediately turns me off someone. I know Monty is from the Bronx and that is no doubt a difficult place to live but I still hate the word. It's like being called a cunt. That is actuallly my least favorite word of all.
I tried to get past the nigger comments but it left a bad taste in my mouth about Monty. I politely wave to him but that's about it.
The other day he came to my door. Monty had a letter for me. He said he found it in the street. I looked at it and realized immediately it was our tax refund.
He found it in the street he said. Out in the middle of the street sat thousands of dollars that by the way we normally OWE the government.
Monty saved me. There's the rub. Monty saved me. I want to look down on him for using the "n" word but the truth is he saved me. Maybe he is always saving us in his walks around the neighborhood. I honestly don't think he's doing any harm.
Monty passed away suddenly in October. His real name was Matteo.
posted by Beck at
6:00 PM
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