Monday, March 18, 2019
Wally :: essays research papers
Elmer, Walt was a friend I knew when I lived in atomic number 20. Despite being a throwback from the 1960s and a reject from societys public eye, Walt still lived with a smile on his face and a story in his heart. Walt loved to tell stories and he loved the perspective where he told them. Walt also loved to drink and toward the end of an evening the feeding bottle had met his lips way too many times. Old hippy ways played out to history for everyone else but Walt. Elmer didnt like his real name. He want being c all tolded by his middle name, Walter, because of the relentless teasing that went on in his childhood. Elmer shared the same name as the famous Warner Brothers cartoon character, Elmer Fudd. The splendid circle of friends which Wally and myself were a part of gave him several nicknames. Two stood out the most. Walt Walter Wally Wallester, all one nickname but kind of long and the other Sir Walter Wally. He liked to be called the latter of the two. I would call him Wal lester, which he disliked vehemently, to mother a reaction from him.When Walt entered a room, hed get noniced. It wasnt his stature. His normal five foot ten inch ordinary frame didnt give him away. It was his demeanor and the clothes he wore that would shed light on heads turn. His shoulder length kinked hair and long untrimmed beard environ leathery skin would be the focal point for his audience. Walt almost eternally wore a smile. His facial expression was one of comfort, not hatred. People did not fear him. He chose to wear clothes reminiscent of the late sixties. His browned fringed sued vest would wrap around layers of unmatched colored tee-shirts. His big Budweiser belt buckle would rest on his hips holding up stripe bellbottom pants that partially coved white on black high croak tennis shoes. Hed wear his belt buckle not in the center of his torso but way off to the human face almost on his left hip. Because Im cool. hed reply when asked about his fashion choice. Sir Walter Wally lived about twenty miles south of Berkeley, California in the small town of Castro Valley. His tiny second story apartment was just outside the downtown area. The complex was old and out of code. The walls had been multicolor so many times before due to past tenants that it was awkward to tell what was wall and what was trim, for the two had blended together creating a maven texture.
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