Mick 'n Me: The
Keith Richards Children's Book
by Con Chapman
Mick 'n Me: The Keith Richards
Children’s Book
Keith
Richards has co-written a children’s
book—News item.
Mick
‘n me was flirtin’ with some birds when
it started to rain.
“Let’s
go inside ‘n play!” Mick says and the
girls says “Sure!”
When
we got inside we wondered what to do.
“Do
you like arts ‘n crafts?” one of the
birds says and Mick says “You bet!”
“Do
you have Plaster of Paris?” the other asks.
“This
is England,” I says, “not France.”
“No,”
the first bird says. “Plaster of Paris is a
fun way to spend time indoors. You mix it with
water and make it into statutes.”
“What
kind of statues?” Mick asks.
“All
kinds,” the other bird says. “Pull down
your pants and we’ll make a cast of the
first one that comes up!”
………………………………………………………..
If
I was to pick my favoritest moments with me dad
it would be the times we spent playing with our
noses. I don’t mean like blowing milk out
your nose when you laugh. I mean when you use
your nose the right way, and take stuff
in--like an elephant!
Dad’d
pour me out a line of Lik-m-aid candy in grape or
cherry, then he’d pour himself a line of his
favorite candy. His was white–I guess he
liked vanilla.
Then,
he’d roll up a $100 bill he’d earned
from his hard work of copying songs by dead black
musicians. “Now,” he’d say,
“put a finger on one nostril, and suck!”
I’d
repeat those words until I was confident I could
do it like a proper rock star, then inhale.
“There
you go–Bob’s your uncle!” dad
would say and he’d give me a penny for
bein’ such a good boy. “Next week
I’ll show you how to shoot up.”
………………………………………………………..
It
was a month after Valentine’s Day, and I
regretted I’d given Mary Klapfelder a little
candy heart that said “Let’s Spend the
Night Together.” She was always waiting for
me after school, and she’d leave herself
wide open for a smacking in Dodgeball. It was
over between us, but I didn’t know how to
get her out of my life, so I asked my dad.
“Dad,”
I says. “Is it ever okay to hurt a girl?”
“Absolutely
not,” he says. “You could get sued and
lose your record deal.”
“So
I have to be Mary Klapfelder’s boyfriend forever?“
Dad
plunked me down on one knee. “What makes you
say that?” he said.
“I
want to break up with her, but she won’t
leave me alone.”
Dad
started to laugh.
“I
thought you meant hurt hurt,” he
said. “No, you did her a big favor by being
her boyfriend.”
“I
did?” Maybe Dad’s forgotten I pick my
nose.
“Sure.
You’re a rock star. You brought a fleeting
taste of fame into her life, now dump her like a
hot rock.”
“But
what if she won’t leave me alone?”
“Have
your people give her a bunch of money to be quiet
and send her home in a cab.”
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