Rsotwwycon

[reevesr1]

My grandfather, on my dads side, was nicknamed Slick. Those of you who have seen my hairline, or his for that matter, would think they understood why.But they'd be wrong. For his funeral, one of my aunts brought some old newspapers clippings from Tyler Junior College football games where my grandfather was the star running back. They called him Lloyd "Slick" Reeves. I asked my dad "Was Pa Pa bald in college?" Dad said "No, why?" I said "Because they already called him Slick" Dad said the nickname had nothing to do with his hairline, they called him Slick because he was slick, but not in the football sense, in the smooth operator sense.

 

Seems my grandfather was a bit of a well known character. My uncle used to travel around all over the country, and was a bit of a pool shark. Used the money he won gambling to finance his travels. He said he could not count the number of times he was asked where he was from and when he said Texas City, Texas someone would reply "Texas City? Do you know Slick Reeves?"

 

 

So here are two Slick stories:

Slick was a gambler, and he cheated. Dad said Slick could shoot dice and shoot a different pair on every throw. He could palm and had some sort of dice holding device in his sleeve. As a cheater, he could also spot a crooked game right away. There was one such game at the mob controlled Balinese room in Galveston. Slick would go there and play the house at the craps table. The boys would let him win for awhile, and then quietly come up and say "Slick, that's enough for tonite" and Slick would go home. One night, he had a few too many Lone Star's in him and decided to ignore the gentle warning to go home. Said "it's a free country and I can do whatever the bleep I want". Dad said he was awoken that night to the sound of squealing tires and when he went outside to investigate he found his dad, Slick, with the *hit beat out of him laying bleeding on the front yard. Seems pissing off the mob boys was a bad plan, but at least they brought him home! No real harm done and he was back betting the house a few weeks later. But from then on when they asked him to leave, he left!

 

Story 2:

 

Dad used to arrange a fishing trip every year in Louisiana. The first year a few of the guys got drunk the first night, didn't wake up, and dad left them at camp all day. After that, Dad instituted a no drinking rule for the fishing trip. The next year he invites Slick. Slick hears about the no drinking rule and called it "The stupidest effin rule I've ever heard". Asks "if I find some beer, can I drink it?" My dad said "Daddy, if you can find a beer in the middle of nowhere, you are free to drink it" (Southern Louisiana was very remote in those days). So first day they are fishing this big sand bar in a mile wide pass between the Gulf and West Timbalier Bay. We called it "The Big Bar in the Middle". (It was the most productive piece of water I have ever fished anywhere in my life.) So there are like 8 guys all lined up on this big sandbar, all with LOTS of fish on stringers. During this, a pontoon plane flies overhead. Now this is pretty unnusual, to say the least. Slick starts waving to the plane which then lands on the back side (calm side) of the sand bar. Slick wades over, has a conversation with the boys inside and they give him a flat of beer. Slick walks up to dad and says "Can you believe it, I know a couple of those guys. I said if they give me some beer I'd let them fish here. That OK?" Dad laughs and says "sure, daddy".

Ole Slick knew eveybody!

 

OK one more:

Sometime just after the war (I think) Slick was looking for work. Most of the work was locked up by unions, and if you weren't a member, you were pretty much shut out. So Slick and his buddy walk into a Union Hall one evening and Slick asks "Who is the toughest SOB in here" Now Slick wasn't all that big, but he was way tough. Anyway, some big ole boy says, "That would be me" Slick looks at the big, supposedly tough SOB and asks the crowd "IF I can kick his ass, you guys give me and my friend a job tomorrow?" To which he hears laughs and a "Sure". So they go out back, have at it and Slick does a bit of ass whuppin. But before he can collect on the deal, hears sirens and runs off. The cops come, Slick sneaks back up behind the crowd and says, "Holy *hit, looks like someone beat the snot outta that guy". He sees a bunch of guys trying to stiifle laughs. He and his buddy got a job the next day.

 

Pretty Slick, 'eh?

[OneMoreLastCast]

Nice stories Rick. I love Grandpa Stories, and it seems we had similar characters as Grandfathers.

We'll have to swap some stories over some beer around a campfire in September....By coincidence, we'll be in his ol' stompin' grounds.

 

I'm glad it wasn't that tough to get my Union card a couple decades ago....

[reevesr1]

Nice stories Rick. I love Grandpa Stories, and it seems we had similar characters as Grandfathers.

We'll have to swap some stories over some beer around a campfire in September....By coincidence, we'll be in his ol' stompin' grounds.

 

I'm glad it wasn't that tough to get my Union card a couple decades ago....

 

But your boxing skills would have come in handy!

[birchy]

Awesome rickr!! I love "tough grampa" stories!

[esleech]

Great story! There should be a movie about Slick!