“… I reminisce for a spell, or shall I say think back
22 years ago to keep it on track” — T.R.O.Y by Pete Rock And CL Smooth
I grew up in Minnesota, and when I was in my early teens, I met a charming chap named Jay. He would throw the most lavish parties. Partygoers were under siege from champagne corks that strafed the air. Some scrambled for cover as if an artillery strike had been called down on their position. The constant percussion of the corks' poping created a gaiety for these raging parties. It was the soundtrack of these festive evenings.
One larger gentleman took refuge in Jay’s considerable library. The scent of leatherbound hardcover books permeated the air. The musk hung gently in the air. He marveled that these were all real books. Nobody had seen such an expansive and extensive library in someone’s home before.
Jay kept the upper-crust inebriated and well-fed during his legendary parties that summer. A home that was the envy of everyone. Manicured lawns greener than emeralds greeted guests.
With wealth like Jay’s, it was difficult for you to believe that he could want anything. Yet, he pined for a woman named Daisy. He was coy when she was the subject of conversation. He deftly avoided discussing how he knew her.
A man like Jay, who was always dressed impeccably with the latest fashions from the streets of Paris, seemed invincible. He had a fleet of vehicles that would make the most cynical car enthusiast blush. His gaudy displays of wealth veered to the obscene, if not even garish.
Jay had nerves of steel that had been tempered in the crucible of war. Many people enter a war one way and always s come out altered. Some were altered for the worst. Jay came out with a vitality that made him want to seize the world by the throat. Jay’s only mission was to choke the life out of the world until it submitted to his indomitable strength and gave him the only thing he sought: Daisy.
Daisy was this beautiful blonde woman from the closest America has to an aristocratic family. She was married to a real brute named Tom. Tom was cocksure. Full of vim and vigor. Yet, he was nasty and cowardly. He must certainly had vinegar pumping through his veins. His family’s station in life allowed him to attend Yale and escape the war. Despite having Daisy, he found other women…