This is a pickle!

As I was sitting out back in the sun, near an older man, I occasionally said something to him because that's the way I roll. He kept telling me that he was DEAF!"

Now, since the stroke, I've been very forgetful. I forgot that he was "DEAF!" and every 5 minutes or so, I said something else and he responded, louder each time as though I were deaf, "I'M DEAF!". I didn't even know how to tell him my problem...I could just write a note saying that I'm an idiot and I forget what he says the minute he says it.

Oh! I was sitting on a curb on a side street trying to get my bearings during one of my mass transportation escapades when a man came out of his house to tell me to "...move along with your red shirt, this is a "Crip street". That's actually closer to a gang fight than I ever thought I'd get.

The sad part was that my daughter had just bought me that shirt in Chi-Town...it said, "ABE FROMAN...The Sausage King of Chicago". I love that shirt so I guess I gotta be a Blood.