I looked up just in time to see a colorful blur disappear into our rest room here at the store. The familiar odor of tobacco, whisky and sweat hung in the air. Nome was standing at the counter with a disgusted look on her face. “Who the hell was that?” I asked.
“Who the hell do you think it was?” she grimaced.
By the look on her face and the tone of her voice I knew it had to be Cactus Jack.
“It smelled like Cactus Jack” I said, “but it looked like a parrot, what was he wearing?”
Before she could answer Jack stepped out of the bathroom snapping up a set of day-glo orange suspenders. Jack is a scoundrel and Nome can’t stand him. He owns “The Rainbow Computer Emporium” in the dry ranch country a mile East of Rainbow. Jack’s usual attire is dirt caked jeans and boots; a cowboy shirt with leather vest and a sweat stained crumpled Stetson. Today in addition to those suspenders, he wore Ho Chi Min sandals, khaki wash pants and a tie-dyed shirt. His scraggly yellowish hair hung out all around a red bandanna that covered his head and tied in the back. With his sun blasted face and tobacco stained beard he looked like Willy Nelson on a bad hair day.
“Where are you going in that outfit?” I asked with a grin.
“I just pulled an all-nighter at the Impeach Trump rally in Hillcrest and I ain’t had time to change my clothes” he puffed. "I’m headin back home to Rainbow and just stopped by to use yer crapper."
“Those impeach Trump folks hate greedy capitalists Jack, and you’re the greediest capitalist I know. I’d figure that’s the last place you’d be.”
“I don’t think them folks care nuthin about corporate greed. Dang near every one of em had an i-phone, i-pod or i-pad,” said Jack. “Ain’t Apple the most profitable company in the World?”
“I think you’re right Jack. So why’d you go.”
“I figured it’d be like Woodstock and Woodstock was a whole bunch of fun” said Jack with a far off look in his eyes.”
“You were at Woodstock?”
“Yep, I was a roadie for the Gypsy Sun and Rainbows Band.”
“Wow, that was Jimi Hendriks’ band. So was “impeach Trump” much like Woodstock?"
“Nope” said Jack shaking his head sadly, “them people is just an aimless herd hangin out with no real focus. At Woodstock, we had a common purpose and we spoke as one voice for a whole generation, we changed the world.”
“You mean Woodstock was all about peace, love, anti-establishment, anti-war, and don’t trust anyone over 30, right”?
“That ain’t what Woodstock was about” snarled Jack, “Woodstock was about sex and drugs with background music. Them “impeach Trump” folks got no idea how to throw a good party. That bunch in Hillcrest looked more like the crowd at Wal-Mart the day welfare checks come out.”
“Sorry it didn’t work out for you Jack,” I said as Jack headed out the door.
“I ain’t givin up on finding a good party yet. Since I went to all the trouble of diggin out my party duds I’m thinking of headin up to Berkeley for “Earth Day” weekend. Wish me luck.”
And I did.