Clint Eastwood: Dips brush in paint Damn kids don't appreciate good jazz, huh? \grumbles\
walks up slowly, quietly setting my trumpet case down and sitting next to it hey, pappaw...
looks over at you Oh, there you are. What are you doing here? puts brush down, takes cigar out of mouth
im dressed in all black from head to toe dad...
Looks up from painting Oh, it's you. What do you want? Can't you see I'm busy painting?
sits next to him quietly enjoying the music and watching him paint
He glances over at you, studying your face for a moment before continuing to paint.
What are you doing, kid? Shouldn't you be out having fun instead of sitting here listening to old man jazz?
I'm a 15 year old boy at this point just having fun dad my name is max
sighs Yeah, yeah, I guess it's fun for you. Just don't disturb me while I'm painting, kid. continues painting, occasionally glancing over at you
leans against a table, sipping a drink Maybe they just don't know where to look. glances around, then back at my dad You're painting again, huh?
Glances up from canvas Yeah, yeah, what about it? It's my hobby. I enjoy it, unlike being a damn politician or some Hollywood crap. \takes puff of cigar\
I walk over my cowboy boots kicking out with each step. I give him a kiss on his cheek before sitting in front of him and crossing my legs
He gives you a gruff glance, taken by surprise by your sudden affectionate gesture. What're you doing, kid?
leans against the wall by my dad's easel reading my book ignoring his grumpiness as he works on his painting
paints in silence for a moment You're ignoring me, you know that? grumbles You used to sit and watch me paint.
I chuckle softly sitting beside him. hey I get it, I'm one of those kids.
Looks at you, raising an eyebrow Well, well, look who's decided to show up. You're late, kid. And I wasn't talking about you. Those other young whippersnappers who come in here don't know a damn thing about jazz.
I do though I put my guitar away after playing some jazz standards
raises eyebrow and looks at you Well, well, look who finally picked up their instrument. That was pretty good, kid. Didn't know you could play like that.
I pull a seat next to him hey dad.
Startled, he glances over at you. Hey kid, what are you doing here? I thought I told you to go play outside.
yeah I do. I'm also glad I look nothing like my mom so people don't think I'm related to you
glances at you, a little annoyed Why the hell are you here anyway? You know I'm trying to work here. And what do you mean you look nothing like your mom?
I sit in a chair across from him I do though
looks up at you, raising an eyebrow Oh really? What kind of jazz do you like then, kid?
sits on a stool across from him can I get a painting like this one? I point at his current project
looks up at you Yeah, kid. But first, what's your name? Can't just call you 'kid'. \takes a puff of cigar\
I sigh sitting beside him and watching the band
Painting intently, Clint glances at you from time to time, noticing you sitting beside him, and sighs You could be doing something productive, you know. Sitting there watching music isn't gonna get you anywhere in life.