Outlaw

I went home, hopefully for the last time…my Grandmother's death removed the last excuse for ever returning to the places I grew up.
200 miles I went, and saw 1 cop…then I crossed into Montgomery County, and in the next 20-30 miles saw no fewer than 12 cops.
It has become a Police State.
I'll elucidate why I hate the place so much….Magnolia/Tomball

When I was 16, my Mom kicked me out of the house. She was in her crazy period, having been through a long divorce, and had a moneyed, cripple Vietnam Vet shacked up w/ us….
I was entering my own crazy period, resisting arbitrary authority wherever it could be found.
I left…and she got on the phone to all and sundry with her version…that I had "run away"…even to the cops…classic CYA, which she has never admitted.( I let this go a long time ago). 86 "Homebase".
I went to live w/ Dad in Tomball…he was trying to reorient his life after the divorce….had a girlfriend,etc…was always gone.
I enjoyed the freedom…and did well in school and socially…as much as can be expected from a budding genius in the land of mediocrity (which is discussed elsewhere).
A friend of mine called one night when Dad was off somewhere….Ziggy…his girlfriend had called him crying. Her mom had beat her, but Zig was stuck in Galveston, or somewhere…could I pick her up at Ken's Bread and Butter?
I said sure. Went and got her…black and blue wisp of a girl.
She stayed w/ me for a few days ( and I didn't even try to screw her), then Zig showed up and took her off my hands.
2 nights later, me and my girlfriend were on a double date…came back to my Dad's place, and all the cops in Tomball came roaring in.
Officer Stan came up to me, demanding to know that girl's whereabouts.
He was to become my friend, and the only cop I felt I could trust for the remainder of my time there.
This is how I "got on their Radar".
I was what was known as a "Stoner", although, that doesn't account for the nuances and richness of me. Had long hair, played music, thumbed my nose at authority….
and did most of the things that my peers did…nothing unusual about my actions, appearance or attitudes, really.
A few years later, another girl…this one a longtime friend, called me up, crying. Her Crazy Mom had gone too far, her Crazier Dad's house was not an option…she was on the side of the road, so I went to get her. We laid low at Chaaker's house…and there learned that her Dad had called the dogs…His brother was Police Chief.
We ended up at Mary Beth's safe haven. She had been married to the Crazy Dad, and could protect us.
I was threatened with "statutory rape" and jail….I had never slept w/ Mippy, even tho I had loved her for a long time.
This whole fiasco ended w/ Mippy living w/ her Dad, Jerry….and me becoming Persona Non Grata.
From then on, I was chased, harassed and slandered by the cops. Gun held to my head for being drunk, followed whenever I came into town, pulled over and put through the ringer for the smallest infraction..this official behaviour spread to Magnolia, too…I learned to sneak around the Greater Northern Houston Area.
All this had a profound effect on me…which I hadn't realized 'till just a few years ago.
I drank, got drunk, did drugs, etc Ran around being a Rebel….none of this really set me apart, even tho I was a bit more extreme. In retrospect, I was depressed…I had been abandoned by my hometown(s) and my family….and had sought solace. I noticed, early in this period, that others "got away" with the same things I got the third degree for. Seems I was a special case.


What set me apart is that I was "on the Radar"….
This went on for years…I made forays to other places, tried to live w/ Mom again…but never had the money, or familial support, to get set up someplace. Home was my truck, or someone's couch. And I had nothing to lose, since I could, apparently, do no right….

Officer Stan pulled me over one day, after numerous tickets, and said "you better get out of town, Joe"….seems the law was gonna "plant" heroin on me, to be rid of me.It was only then that I found out the root of my problem. I asked Stan why they were always after me. He said," Because of that girl…"
I left.
Went to college, and on to Austin….with a few years of Road thrown in for good measure.

This period of Pariah-hood set in stone my distrust and hatred of Authority.

I was totally unprepared for the realities of life in Reagan's America…I had absorbed the Myth from family, that if one worked hard, and did the "right thing", was honest, one could "make it". (my attitude regarding school is covered elsewhere) Well, I had done the "right thing", to my mind and sense of Morality, in helping these waifs….and the Powers had tagged me as a Problem to Be Eradicated. I was a Weed.
Almost 20 years later, I moved back to Magnolia, looking for work.
Living in my Great Grandmother's house, w/ my Brother, in the neighborhood where I grew up.
Found a job.
Just beginning to get out of the hole caused by 911 and Lil George's economic "policies"…
Day off, I was at the Hill, where we used to camp, and hang around, building forts, etc…memories!...Drinking beer in my truck, not 100 yards from the house, parked in the ditch beside our property, not a soul on the little road. Local redneck, Ricky, comes by in a Mule, w/ a fifth of Wild Turkey and an AK47. Stops, shoots the shit, provides me with a joint….same idiot redneck that used to chase me with his buddies, "Here, Hippy!"…
He left.
Not 10 minutes later, cop pulls up and arrests me. Turns out that Ricky had a "special relationship" w/ the law….in addition to his business of construction work, mostly public works, rife with corruption and kickbacks, he was also a drug dealer…complete with cops in his pocket. Redneck Mafia.
When I got out of jail, (PI), I was afraid to leave the damned house! Was it starting all over?
Was I still, after all these years, Persona Non Grata?
I had my wife and year old son to think about….and it cost more to live there than I could hope to make….so we evacuated…back to the Hill Country.
When we were down there for the funeral, that same son(now 8) was riding with me….and wanted to know why I hate the place so much. He was shocked to learn that his dad was once an Outlaw…
I am resolved to not hold back with him, about the shittyness of the world….like my folks held back with me.
I had to find out on my own, by trial and error….
Grandma's place (Gagoo, I called her) will be on the market soon….and I ain't never going back…53 years of occupation by Browns and Pinters is at an end.
The Rednecks and the UberConservative, Rightwing Xians can keep their People's Republic of North Houston.