Hey, Pauly, I've joined the band Aug. 16, 1979

Aug. 16, 1979

            Pauly tells me I’m crazy when I call him up to say I joined the band.

            He calls it “a hair-brained scheme,” one I will soon regret the way he did.

            I know deep down I should listen.

            Pauly has quit the band so often it ought to pay him alimony.

            But I got this crazy idea that I can work at night while going to college.

            Pauly admits this is theoretically possible, yet tells me I’ll change and I’ll fall into the rock & roll head, just when I’ve made up my mind finally to get a career.
            He suggests I get a real job – something part time.

            I say part time won’t pay the rent where as the bucks the band pays will.

            I’m not like Pauly. I’m used to a regular pay check after a decade of breaking my back loading trust.

            He’s always lived on the fringe, spending so little he never needs to earn much.

            He also borrows and never pays back.

            I have a conscience.

            I’m also a little hooked on the idea of the rock & roll life, something he never loved, but put up with.

            He calls it a crock, an excuse to get laid, and claims I’ll get classier girls at college and won’t have to fill them up with booze first.

            I also like the idea of working with Garrick, a life-long friend who lately I haven’t seen much of.

            Pauly, who has lived most the last decade with Garrick, says I’ll get sick of that soon, too.

            All this leaves me a little confused after I hang up the phone, as if somewhere in the back of my head I know Pauly is right.

I           I just don’t want to admit it.

            I want a little taste of that dingy world before college changes me into someone who won’t find happiness in a drunken date and a heavy back beat. I know I’m going to regret it, but I’ll regret it more if I don’t.