Sunday, November 11, 2012

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.

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