"At the Movies" with Tom Joad (JD)
Now, I been to the pitcher show a few times in days of late and I aim to tear off a bit a my thoughts and pass ‘em on. God help me, I ain’t sayin’ that what falls outta my head any better or smarter or more important that what you’s got to say, but this here’s just me. You go on and write your own damn thing if you want. It ain’t gonna steal my rest none.
That first pitcher show I went on in to see was about that boy what was a witch. This little imp thought he
was some mighty so-and-so, carryin’ on with his devilry and livin’ it up at that there school for whippin’ up spells. Now, see, I’m a man ain’t got no problem with luck. Why, hell, I done carried bout a horseshoe in my trouser pocket for a good long year onct, thinking it’d do me some good. (I ain’t sayin’ it did nothing bad for me, but that was the year I got so hungry I ate a belt.) Anyhows, so I’m just sayin I ain’t got a problem with that Harry kid talkin’ up incantations and whatnot. Who’m I to say? Problem I had with this here pitcher was all that sassin’ and lip that kid and his cronies give to them there teachers and the adults and whatnot. Sumbuddy shoulda grabbed that kid and takin’ him out to that ol’ shed where that there oafish retarded fella lived, cut a switch, and snapped the aleck outta him. Anyhows, bout midway through this show, I had the unction to go and roll up a smoke outta some good ol’ Durham ‘bacca Al’d give me. I went and stretched my legs for a good two or three blocks. But, damn if that sorry red-vested son-of-a-bitch runnin’ the ticket rippin’ station wouldn’t let me back in. So, I don’t know what happened with that little smart assed kid, but I tell you what, I’d a licked ‘em but good, by God!
That next one pitcher I saw was one these chase-em-downs which ain’t a fer piece from some a the life I done lived. Now, I ain’t settin’ out to get you to cry tears for a fella like me that once spent some time in a booby hatch. (You think that I’m lookin’ for pity, you can just walk on by, mister.) What I’m sayin’ is that me and this Jason fella both had folks what wanted nothin’ but hardship and unkindess, is all I’m sayin’. I liked this here pitcher a whole lot cause they was this real purty girl in it what they call Julia Stiles and she got lips like a promise you once heard in your ear. I thought it might be right nice to set them lips up against on mine. Hell, I thought about that for a good long while while that movie was a goin’ on. Next thing I know they’s drivin’ cars up and down stairs and I thought that was a hell of a thing. Hell of a damn thing, for sure! Bout midway through, though, I started gettin a bit a grumble belly goin’, seein’ as how I hain’t et in a good long while. Well, the colored feller next to me (sittin’ nex to me! In a flicker show! What a world!) got a big bag a popped up corn he’s a chowin’ through. That smell get after me like a fly cast o’er a cold creek. I kinda turns to him and go, “Say, that there popped up corn sure do smell fine. Surely do.” He don’ say nothin’ so I decide to let it be. But them grumbles kep on a comin’ and I ain’t a man for charity, but I leaned up to the Negro man and said, “Mind if I take a taste, jus’ to see how that stuff go down?” Well, he said back to me in a sassy tone, “Okaaaay,” but that ain’t what I heard. Maybe I was on-edge, what with me day-dreamin’ bout popped up corn and big ol’ red lips and cars runnin’ on staircases, I don’t know... but damn if I didn’t hear that feller say, “Okie.” Now, I cain’t take that sorta thing. I done take too much of it as it is. So I balled up all five a my right hand’s fingers and popped that colored man right in the mouth. His ladyfriend, she screamed like I’d hit her and then everyone was mad and that sumbitch in the red vest come in and make me leave. So, I don’t know what happened with Jason and that girl but I bet he made her feel like a woman. Praise God, all I wanted was some a that popped up corn.
This las’ pitcher was a movie that was a remake of one that come out a few years ago called “Those 
Fantastic Four.” This new one was pretty much callt the same thing. Anyhows, I ain’t no tomcatter -- hell, I ain’t aimin’ to be no somesuch, spreadin’ his wares all around -- but damn if I didn’t follow this one purty little angel on into the theater. She lookt bout right for a guy like me. She had a soft sorta middle and eyes what had make-up on ‘em, and hair all let loose like she was bout to take herself a bath. Also, she had a hotdog, and that hotdog looked mighty damn fine to me. Mighty damn fine. So, I sets myself down nex’ to her and she look kinda sideways at me and her friend that was too soft in the middle said, “Who’s he?” and that purty one says, “I don’t know” and I says, “My name’s Tom Joad and I like the look of you” (not the fat one, just the kinda fat one). She says something sweet like, “Oh” and I tell her I been seein’ pitcher shows like crazy and I like pitcher shows and do you like pitcher shows? She didn’t seem to know much about that, and I told her about how I don’t just like pitcher shows, but I also like walkin’ clear crost God’s green earth. She kinda thought that was weird and I tol’ her ‘bout how I walk mostly just to find my own damn soul, and how I don’t think I really got a soul, but my soul’s just some little shaved off piece of one great big soul, and that great big soul only makes some kinda sense when you’re out in the wilderness, but then when you’s all alone and it all makes sense, it ain’t for real cause your piece a soul’s all separated out from the great big one, so that a man cain’t never really find his way. That’s when I realize that chubbier one’s gone and got Good Time Charlie in the redvest and he’s aimin’ to kick me out agin. I tol’ him, “Hold your meathooks, Jim. Everthings fine.” Then I tol’ that girl ‘bout my sister Rosasharn and what she did for that one man what was dyin’. Well, that made her scream, and the son of a bitch in the redvest grabbed me and I let him cause I was so tired out from walkin’ and talkin’ and from only eatin’ a handful of Jujubees I found stuck to the back of a theater seat. So, I didn’t see one damn flicker of them Fantastic Fours and that thinner girl didn’t never tell me her name. But I tell you what, I bet them Four knowed, but good, how all our souls is one.
So, them’s my reviews: that witch-boy sass too much, Jason know how to drive a car and work a gir
l real well, and I bet the Fantastic Four was purty good. And, well, if'n you don’t like my thoughts, go take yerself a long walk off a short pier, by God!
I’m Tom Joad.
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