Dickie Dickie Dick Dick Dick Dick Dick

There once was a fellow who liked to be known as Dickie D. He was a sharp dresser and he loved the opera. Dickie went to a ball game once and instead of watching the innings, he turned on a radio and listened to Pachelbels Canon. I loved Dickie immensely but Dickie sadly was insufficient in funds to pay for his expensive Volkswagon Destroyer wagon. It was a super car with bucket seats and a floor mat that said Jesus Saves. I loved Dickies enthusiasm to be a real man of the cloth but Dickie went too far one day. Dickie ordered a book on liberalism that he decided he would burn and spread the ashes on his bumper and his tailpipe. Dickie just thought that the liberals were the worst human beings and that the indigent were everywhere. Dickie hated to give to non religious causes such as happy days rerun charities and bookstore money management accounts. Dickie did it all right on the money and he loved the fact that Jesus was going to be his best friend all of the days of his life. But that said, Dickie missed the bus one day on his way to the baseball game that he was going to listen to Pachelbel Canon on his ipad. I think Dickie was really a great man and he really had his ideals, that is for sure. But what did you think happened to Dickie the day that his bus did not come and he did not get to the game. Dickie had to join the rest of the people on the street corner and they were smoking cigars and wearing turtle necks that had insignias of a pie in the sky on their faces. I missed Dickie's expression only to say that Dickie was found dead of coronary arrest a moment after he saw the truth behind the adage that "Every cat has a 9 life day of happiness". Dickie lost his ipad and then he could not get to his super sized igloo that he played his guitar on his knee and sat in the sun watching reruns of Jay Springer's show on cable. Dickie was so unhappy that he did not really have a heart attic, he just thought he did. He sat down and waited for another bus and looked a few times at the others in the venue before him. I miss Dickie immensely but I wonder if Dickie really needed those Jesus loves you floor mats or if Dickie was just jealous that the cigars really tasted good and that Dickie was a radiological worker who refused to consume a great substance that might cause cancer in poets. Dickie was a poet indeed but Dickie was unorthodox. He liked to drink Pina Coladas with a curvy straw and he really liked to smile when the children took his photograph. Dickie was used to being called becasue all of his illiberal friends wanted to stick together. They all had high paying jobs or else they were cronies from his high school days and he really loved to chat them up. But Dickie has a deep secret. He was once a friend of one of those fellows with a turtleneck on on that corner he was once a vagrant bum at the bus stop. I missed Dickies love, but the truth was I was that friend that Dickie once had. I called him a few times and I visited him in his special sports city, but he really did not want to view my troubled bookcase that I really had in my mornings that I knew I was going to be working a little bit less and saving a little bit less too. Dickie despised that I could not pay to go to a baseball game and Dickie despised that I just wanted some good times. I just missed Dickie's expression but I miss not a beat of his choices. I think Dickie is a friend of mine still, but I know that Dickie will never pick up the phone until I really make it in life or he hears a sympathetic story about my bookcase that has since become a lot of star wars toys. I miss Dickie again and if I see Dickie, I'd like to know if he really liked watching Star Wars. Baruch Hashem.