30 Years of Bondage – A Love Tale

There they sit together on the veranda
A rockin’ and a spittin’
Not talkin, no longer;
All he ought to have said
(Or not said, indeed!) he said
Those thirty long years back
And then she jes’ said, “Yep.”
And that pretty much sealed his fate.

And hers, too, if the truth be known.
But then she had to get into truth.
And there was the larnin’ that kept her from it too.
Ideas, ideas
She was jest all filled with them ideas!
And him too,
Although he knew even then
Even back in the first few shy years
Of their gropin’ and clumsy fumblin’ ways
(This was before Lucy had come along)
He knew the whole idea of a Insurance Peddler
And a School Marm
Sure would set folk to laughin’ mean behind their backs.

But he done it anyhow.
Now that’s a cross to bear,
I don’t mind sayin’.
Then when she got them braces on her teeth
Lordy, Lordy.
Well they always said she was uppity.
And then she got this hankerin’ for Horowitz.
But ol’ Tom,
He always jest had this hankerin’ fer her.

So he got some book down himself
And spent the next few years
Gettin’ larned.
And then they was Colorado
And then Carmel
Before it was all spoilt by the likes of Clint
And thet crowd!
And afore you knowed it
They was in Los Altos
Jest like it was all planned out beforehand
But ol’ Tom later took me aside and allowed as how
It warn’t nothing but dumb blind luck all along.

And they still there to this day!
Tom still got thet tape o’ the neighbors
When they had a spat ’bout ten years back
And him and Janet take it out
And listen to it fer hours on end
Tryin’ to sort out the bad words from the good
(They’d had to hide it from Lucy the first few years
Lest she should larn some of the bad words and use ’em
On her intended!)

I can still see ol’ Tom
With his microphone cord a danglin,
And he jest flung thet mike over the fence
And him and Janet commenced to fall down in the grass
From laughin’
His eyes was red and Janet’s too
(Even though most folk still fancied her too uppity
To get all tangled up in somethin’ smarmy like thet)

And they was the roof rats, too,
They was ol’ Tom’s passion
Even though most folk said ol’ Tom didn’t have no passion
But he said it don’t make no never mind
Jest cause I’m an Insurance Man.
Cut us, do we not bleed?
(And I didn’t see what he was gettin at
But that never made no difference to ol’ Tom!)
And then Janet, she chimed in
It’s nice to think that old folks
Are still capable of passion.
And ol’ Tom he said
Isn’t it lovely to think so?

And them war the last words they spoke.
They seem real content now.
A rockin’ and a spittin’
Sun droops down in the west
Over the roof of the old Hatler place
Sure never would have expected nothin’ like that
From ol’ Tom
Or Janet herself neither.
Must be after thirty years
They plumb run out of things to say!