I’ve wrestled with the fact that I am not too big on blogging about personal stuff, but I can share some of the cooler things in my life; current events, funny storys, and other oddities you can find on the internet.
Some friends of our family, when we were younger, lived in some rural place outside St. Louis. You had to drive down a long driveway to get to their house, and while you were on their driveway, you pasted this run down house. They said a guy named Crazy Ray lived there. Why was he Crazy Ray, and not something like Irriateable Ray? Good question. Apparently, Ray’s older brother played the accordion. And one of the family’s favorite pastime was to play accordion around a fire in a trash can when it was cold outside. Well, one day, Ray’s brother got too close to the fire and his accordion went up in flames. His brother died then and there as the family watched on helplessly. Now, that in itself is indeed a tragedy. And no doubt, it affected Ray in ways we can only imagine. But some of the stories that our hosts shared with us, I can’t help but think Ray had other problems and this was just another brick in the wall. Oh, btw, this happened before Ray was a teenager; he was then in his fifties when we heard these stories.
So now Ray was Crazy Ray. What kind of things did he do to deserve such a name? Well, quite a bit, actually. It seems that Ray had a problem with his arm. It looked kind of weird if you looked at it, kind of crooked. One time when he was cutting the yard, he got into a fight with a tree and broke his arm. He never went to the doctor nor had it set, so now it just looked kind of odd…
Ray used to have a dog. This dog loved to walk. In fact, there was a trail worn around Crazy Ray’s house that was rumored to be made by his crazy dog. So Ray used to walk his dog. Now, this wasn’t what you would think of as a normal walk. No, not just around the block for his dog to poop. Ray would walk his dog 20+ miles. So much did this dog walk, his pads were worn off his feet. So Ray wanted to keep going out, so he got a bike (he might have had it laying around, I don’t think he bought one just for this), and put his dog in the basket on the handlebars of the bike. Crazy Ray would ride around with his dog in the basket for 20+ miles also. Finally, the dog could no longer sit in the basket since he was sores on his bum.
So what did Ray do at this point with his dog? He ate him!
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I have heard this story several times. Now how do you know that he really ate him? Did Ray invite you over for dinner? This is some crazy Chicago tall tale if you ask me.
Well, this was a St. Louis story. And no, I don’t have proof he ate his dog, but the people we stayed with lived in the country and their driveway went right next to his house. I remember it was scary.