It ain’t easy being Indian...UFO watching on the rez

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By Ricey Wild
News From Indian Country 9-08

This lovely summer is winding down in the northern hinterlands which I inhabit. As always, it went too quickly, and this time it does not leave very many good memories. Summertime has a lot to live up to, must be tough. I guess it’s time for me to move to the equator.

This past July my Mom spent the weekend at my place on Rezberry Drive, it was the perfect night for star-gazing, or as in our case, UFO watching. Dark night, no bugs, soft breeze and very little light pollution contributed to the ideal conditions for contact with them Aliens. C’mon, you know they are here! Admit it! A top USA astronaut even acknowledged their existence.

Some Native Peoples’ have creation stories of having come from the stars. Why would we dispute that? Maybe it’s our distant cousins coming around to visit us, or check up on us? Why not? Christianity teaches that their savior was born of a virgin. The old Indians had to be like, sure, sure… we know how that can happen, wink wink! Now can we get our guns and ammo?

Omi and me took our Powwow chairs out and turned off the back door light to wait. I live in a reconstructed rez house. There are high cement steps with no hand rails. There is no door handle on the storm door. Betcha you can’t guess what happened next! Ya think? First my mom fell up the steps after turning down my solicitous offer to help her up. The next night, out there by myself, I fell down the cement stairs! Omi accused me of always trying to do one better and I sure did.

When people see me gimping along they ask, “What happened?” I reply “You should see the other guy.” Funny how no one has ever questioned my response! Truth is I tried to open my back door without breaking any nails and ended up in the Blueberry Emergency room yelping and making quite a racket. I think they gave me morphine to shut me up from frightening the other patients. It worked.

I am an optimist, when I’m not being pessimistic, so I figure I’m lucky it was not worse. I have torn ligaments and am getting physical therapy. I’m going for no surgery! I worry about that stuff they give you to prep you, some drug that when I had it to get my appendix out, I invited the surgeons to take out whatever else was still viable, help yourself… My injury put an end to my golf season, I mourn it! Now I’m looking for a desk job. Hai!

Now let me see? Hmmm. I missed the duck races this year due to my injury. The first year I went with my Mom, we had read in the paper about “duck races.” Having never seen them before we decided to go and make our bets. Omi wondered how they got the ducks to not fly away, and I thought they would have little colored silks with numbers on them. Imagine our surprise when we found out they only raced plastic duckies! I happened to win 2nd place that year. Reminds me of this other time my mom, son and me went to the wiener dog races. I went up to the booths to make my bet and was told by a stone faced guy that, “the wiener dog races were only for exhibition, Ma’am.” I slunk away. Just goes to show though, I’ll pretty much bet on anything. That is except, an honest Republican.

Me and Omi went to the Cornberry County Fair to eat. There is no way I could possibly do the State Fair limping about as I am. She had her pronto pup and I went for my cheese curds. Yum. I decided I could go a little bit further using my walker so we checked a few other things out, like limp vegetables and odd paintings. Then I saw a big sign that said “Dogs,” so we made our way over there. So we ended up petting dogs and observing what large behinds draft horses have. One reminded me of a particular person. Hee hee!

On another note, I do so love sugar! But dang it! I’m a diabetic so I can’t put it in my tank. I got rid of it and live my vida loca every day to ride on! Enjoy my exhaust, or should I say ‘boogits?’

You know, there are a lot of awful people in this world, and I wonder why they command all the attention? This time, in this column, I am publically commending a young woman named Amanda Oakgrove who works at the Rezberry Rest Stop and Mac Supply. She is my angel, and I thank her very much. It’s like my Unk Gene always used to say, “It ain’t easy being Indian, but it is easy to be an awful one. They are lowdown dirty nasty pieces of work but for every one of them there are the Amandas’ of this world.”

 

 

 

 

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