Tom was reminiscing about the time he spent in South Carolina with Uncle Billy. Geneologically speaking actually a cousin, the Union Carbide settlement provided enough to live on comfortably. Billy had gotten some acreage & a house just out of town, where he started raising chickens.

Weird chickens.

Chickens just back from the west coast where they’d played supporting rôles in horror & fantasy films [or direct-to-video].

It was back in the eighties Tom visited him there. Billy was completely out & comfortable with it, received visitors in his kaftan smoking a B&H long. Seems that booze-on-wheels didn’t have the same connotation as these days. It was quite common to see the afternoon drive home filled with folks holding a frosty glass of something, real glass with real ice. Granted they were going rather slow, not to mention being very laid back. Billy referred to it as “The Charleston Grip”.

A couple years later Billy moved further south, down to Key West, a little warmer & gay-friendly but couldn’t keep chickens.


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