Summer 1985, early afternoon — the slow time. Dwayne and I are the only employees in the store. I’m fresh out of high school, he is thirty-five with a bachelor’s in history. […]
29. You Don’t Know What the Sound Is, Darlin’
28. Leaving the Things That You Love From Mind
Only at thirteen is it acceptable to own both a hamster and a Bo Derek wet tee-shirt poster, one of which serves as a compulsive masturbation aid (don’t judge). My bedroom was […]
27. I’ve Been Trying to Get a Message Through the Air to You
6:00 p.m. Tower Cafe, The Police on the headphones. That’s a bit contrived, though. This whole set up is, beginning with that notation. I have made the same notation on every journal […]
26. This Is the First Song Off Our New Album
The Seventies laid claim to some great live albums, never mind that many of them were created in a studio. The Woodstock soundtrack kicked off the decade, which to me was roughly […]
25. A Live Wire, Barely A Beginner
Ricky Brent was my first friend in South Carolina. My behind the house neighbor, a short path through the kudzu and dense loblolly pines, our friendship was inevitable. He was a big […]
24. Thank You Driver For Getting Me Here
When we moved to South Carolina I decided that I wanted to take the bus to school. There was no particular need for this — my mother worked now, so she could […]
23. Here Comes the Savage Day
(Note: Period correct dialogue ahead. You’ve been warned.) New Year’s Eve, 1979. Time to move into the Eighties; time to live a Killing Joke song. This was the first turn of a […]
22. Life Begins at the Hop
One morning before home room the perky girls began tacking hand-lettered signs all over the school. Two weeks from Friday we were invited to attend a sock hop in the school gym. It […]
21. Who Are You?
Money was tight for twelve-year-old me: allowance, what I could get mowing lawns, that’s about it. Used record stores didn’t exist, at least not in Spartanburg, and new records were expensive. Enter the […]
20. This One Goes Out to the Ones I Left Behind
My first scribblings as a forty-four year old man. Sitting in an airport 6:50 a.m., legal pad and Uniball pen, Pete Townshend’s “I’m One” on the headphones. Halfway to eighty-eight, that being ten […]
Why It Matters 