Four years ago, when I first moved to Baltimore City, I lived in Butcher’s Hill with my best friend, Kelli. There were a number of characters in our neighborhood, but my two favorite white trash locals were named Ginger and Big Tweety. Those two were always out causing some kind of trouble. Sometimes when I walked by I would throw a fake gang sign and if they said it wasn’t a real gang sign I would be like, “It is too. It’s for a new gang I made up–you guys can be in it if you want. Girls only.” They always shook their heads at me, unsure if I was being serious.
One morning at 4:15 am, I walked a friend to his car that was parked five blocks away (god forbid anyone ever find parking anywhere in this city).
When I returned to my street there were two seedy figures frantically scratching at the lamppost in front of my house. I was nervous until I realized it was just my neighbor Ginger and her girl Big Tweety. Tweety’s real name was Trina, but she was hefty and regularly sported a gorgeous stonewashed denim jacket with Tweety Bird on the back and a Tweety Bird denim bowling bag as her purse–so naturally, Ginger called her Big Tweety.
This is what used to be written on the pole:
While Big Tweety worked diligently to cover this expression of true love, Ginger was writing something else. I got bold (was wicked drunk) and asked, “What happened to Jamaal?” and Big Tweety calmly replied, “He dead.”
Ginger said nothing.
I felt really bad about it. “Oh, oh my god, I’m so sorry,” I kept apologizing to her, but soon realized she didn’t care all that much because she was writing this:
Four years later, we remember Jamaal and all he did for the neighborhood, including the time he lit a bag of poop on fire and chased a kid with it and that other time he went door-to-door asking if “anybody got any weed.”
Rest in peace, Jamaal. We hardly knew ye.
I shouldn’t laugh given Jamaal is dead, but that is kind of funny !
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It’s okay for it to be kind of funny, too, because it’s Baltimore.
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Forget Jamaal and David. Bit Tweety needs to find herself a Sylvester.
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Whoops, that was supposed to be BIG Tweety, not Bit Tweety. 🙂
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She really does. I hope she finds him!! Those crazy kooks and their regular antics.
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Baltimore is a bit like Oz I think, a weird magical place full of all sorts of strange people and creatures. You should write a book.
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Funny you should say that…
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I gotta tell my old man this story. He’ll appreciate it.
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Haha, please do!
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I feel like I know Baltimore’s underbelly through the work of David Simon. I OD’d on five hour marathons of The Wire and reading Homicide:a year on the killing streets at the same time. A Conservative politician over here made an arse of himself a couple of years ago by trying to be ‘on trend’ by suggesting that parts of Manchester are becoming like something out of The Wire. He then had to go on TV and explain to smug journalists why he was comparing Manchester to a city with a yearly murder count about a third of the whole of the UK. What a dick. Sorry, I’m sure Baltimore’s really a lovely place to live.
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That was dumb of him, yes. That made me laugh a lot… they are awesome shows though.
There are lovely places in Baltimore to live. It’s a “unique” city. My current neighborhood, Hampden, is fun and artsy and I feel safe here.
Otherwise, yes, I have been robbed and followed home and I’ve been scared and gang stuff gets out of control. I can say for certain that Manchester is no Bodymore, Murdaland (shhhhheeeeiiit…remember that guy?).
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I’m a very sad David Simon geek I’m afraid. There’s a brilliant Clay Davies montage on You Tube of him just saying shhhhiiiiieeet. I suppose it’s like any major city you get to know which areas not to wander of into (he says patronisingly)
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That’s awesome, I’m happy to hear it–aaaand I’m off to look up that video.
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“Fuck All Bitches and Niggas. I Love him 4EVEr Always” was actually in our wedding vows. What a coincidence!
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That is easily the sweetest thing I have ever heard!
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Inspired by your post, I am going to throw up gang signs everywhere and then pretend it’s a chronic tic.
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Great idea…make sure they aren’t real though, you may find yourself in a bind…
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You know what? Somehow, Jamaal being dead made this even funnier to me. I suspect that makes me a really bad person. Hmm.
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