Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

Do Wacka Do
---- Big Frank Dickinson

"Yeah, I see you’re goin’ down the street in your big Cadillac,
You got girls in the front, you got girls in the back,
Yeah, way in back, you got money in a sack,
Both hands on the wheel and your shoulders rared back
root-doot-doot-doot-doot, do-wah," Roger Miller

Smoothness and a chipper disposition rode on his shoulders. Of course, the weather also helped - those sunny days, that warm breeze, and the regularity of it all. "All luck", some said; and he, "So what, I'll take it, who wouldn't?" Days stood up for him, at attention and served him well in the form of a clean conscience, limited imagination, and an unflinching ability to sit in the middle of where he actually was. This ploppiness, as he called it, always revealed through some amount of patience, learned at a cost of potentially lost opportunites, initially unnoticed lurking possibilities. It was with these weeds, as he called them, that he made his life: toast without butter, moles with hairs emerging, lazy eyes, and dripping facucets. Nobody saw these things - what they saw was the glint in his eye, the bounce in his step, and the way his eyes embraced them "A clean windshield, and shiny shoes": that had been his mantra - not so much something that he sought but outward signs of preparedness and attention to detail, which he did not so much pay attention to as keep in mind as a linguistic touchstone to being on track. In actuality he rarely washed his car, but that didn't stop it from running - that is, until those trucks plowed into him.