Sorry for the mispellings, got carried away and been hanging around brother JOCKO to long.


The first time I went to visit my uncle in Sierra Vista, we were in Tuscon at some diner near nowhere. I looked over and saw a biker type leaned over the counter with a .45 sticking out of his belt line. I don't mean suburb guy that owns a harley, I mean BIKER. Sandblasted face, dusty, probably always dusty, I mean real outlaw biker. Being a New Yorker, I whispered "Uncle Peter...that guy has a gun!". I will never forget how he looked at me and said "AND...? Son, this ain't New York, eat your eggs".
The first time I went to visit my uncle in Sierra Vista, we were in Tuscon at some diner near nowhere. I looked over and saw a biker type leaned over the counter with a .45 sticking out of his belt line. I don't mean suburb guy that owns a harley, I mean BIKER. Sandblasted face, dusty, probably always dusty, I mean real outlaw biker. Being a New Yorker, I whispered "Uncle Peter...that guy has a gun!". I will never forget how he looked at me and said "AND...? Son, this ain't New York, eat your eggs".
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