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A pleasant afternoon with Chevely McDigg
by Mark on 9/11/2004 (0) 
CENTRAL PARK, NY-Rumor had it about a snaggletooth urban soothsayer named Chevely McDigg, who appeared on peeling forlorn benches in Central Park, offering sage advice and earthy wisdom from the haunted New York hollows before vanishing into the misty Manhattan night.
After 4 failed attempts, I finally caught up with Chevely, and gestured him with the customary food offering, -a cup of coffee, a pack of smokes and a half melted three Musketeers bar I found on the dashboard of my Chevy Chevette.
I set up a video camera and microphone, being carefull to catch McDigg on his good side, in which his case, would be neither...
"So, Mr. McDigg. Pleased to meet you. I must say you don't look like a wise man, not much of a wise man at all.
McDigg drank the hot cuppa joe in one razzled swig, and wiped his mouth on a dirty sleeve
"Well, suh, I'm from N'Orleans, 'riginally. I came here after 13 months in Korea with the 8th back in fitty-fo', an' ain't never left since. I guess this be my home, for sho'."
McDigg rubbed his weary eyes and tightened his collar against the September cold
"Folks say you are a great Prophet. I must say I am skeptical about so-called "Prophets". Do you have any proof to tell me otherwise?"
McDigg lit up a smoke, inhaling deeply
"I see things 'fore they happen...I understand things other folks don't. What's invisible to most folk is clear as thin air to me. It's just a gift, I reckon. I had a premonition of two giant eagles with painted wings striking down the Twin Towers, I did. I posted warning signs all over Downtown. Folks didn't listen until it was too late. Cryin' damn shame, it was."
Crushing out his cigarette in the dust, McDigg beckoned with a gnarled hand
"If you want some more Prophocee, It'll cost you ten bucks, suh."
Laughing wryly, I ransacked my duffle back and tossed him a sawbuck
*Ahem*...What I see is death in the land...burning fire and destruction, I see a new face, a foolish man with no respect for Lord or Mankind, a man out for his own selfish gain, I do. The man's name begins with a..."
McDigg beckoned for another green back. I tossed him my last Hamilton and urgently pressed on...
"I see the letter "S"...a giant firey letter S as big as the whole sky, settin' the world on fire...The man's name starts with an "S" it do..."
Chevely bowed his head, and started away
"W-Wait! what does the S stand for! McDigg! Wait!"
McDigg took a fat bank wad out of his pocket and wrapped the 20 beans I gave him around them like a long lost Dead Sea Scroll
Disgusted, I gathered my gear and shot back
"Thanks for nothing! I knew you were a fraud! And what the hell kind of name is Chevely McDigg, anyhow?"
Ambling off to a backroom 5th Avenue crap game, McDigg looked back with the patience of Job, the Poetry of Shakespeare and the humor of Bill Cosby.
"I dunno, suh...what the hell kind of a name is Sucka anyways?isp0" style="display:no
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