Clickels

I'm not crazy, but they did take me to the Meadow Wood Institution, but then I escaped and I'm still wearing that straight jacket today. And back when I was a hip youngster you could get an apple pie, a newsreel, and trip on the Harbor Ferry all the way to East St. Louis, Michigan all for a nickel. But back then we called nickels, clickels. Well I did anyway. So I went up to that Old Beth's Confectioner Soda Pop Stand (where the cool kids hung out) and I asked Old Beth, "Give me everything I can get for a clickel" and Old Beth said you mean a nickel. And I said yes but we call them clickels now. Well you know Old Beth. She beat me with her paddle all the way to communist Russia where I lived as a fighter jet for a good twenty years. Back in those days, people were tougher and had bomb shelters. Once I went down to my bomb shelter where I kept my collection of clickels. Martha would always say to not leave my clickel collection there on account of a nuclear bomb was about to hit any minute, mainly because we were in Japan and the year was 1945. But I proved Martha wrong. There was no bomb. Then I gave Martha a good beating with my shovel. That was the last I saw of her except in 1953 when she marched with the other ladies in the Thanksgiving Day Parade in beautiful New York City. It wasn't actually NYC, it was Buford, Wisconsin. But we were young and in love, so it didn't matter. The peas back then were fresher too. Once I ate a pea so fresh it blew straight through my insides doubletime. Then there was the 80's. I didn't understand the hip hop music but I sure liked Perry Como. He put out so many hip hop hits that I nearly had a heart attack. And then I had a heart attack and my lung collapsed. I'm cold.