How to Avoid a Future Life / Somewhere in the Crowd

It was a cold November morning in 1980 on the lower east side of Manhattan. I was driving my p.a. equipment in the gutted back of ’67 V.W. to a club called ‘The building’ to prepare for the show tat night. I was listening to a bootleg tape sent to me from a friend in L.A. It was a six song cassette. I was listening and singing along to the track entitled ‘Depression’. I had a piece-of-shit tape deck but it had a 100-watt booster and it was loud. I drove down the street with it blaring and screaming at the top of my lungs. If someone had mentioned to me a few years ago punk-rock was the latest music craze, I would’ve said that you were crazy. Now, I’m driving down 6th Ave. singing it in my car on the way to the show I’m playing. I was eighteen and life couldn’t better for someone who only had three bucks in his pocket. I had no real job and no girlfriend. All of my family deeply resents my choice of career over college. Yes, life couldn’t be worse! I always whip my car around in the middle of the street & park right in front of the building. Early every morning I come back out and see that I’ve received the usual parking ticket. I always immediately crumple it up and throw it away. Of course, it doesn’t matter because the car’s paperwork is totally fictitious. I go inside the bar and start to set up with everyone else. The stage is all the way back and rose up two feet. I notice Steve isn’t around and seeing as he’s the lead guitarist in the band, I felt compelled to ask the stupid question, “Hey, Tommy, where the fuck is Steve?” “I dunno. He called here at lunch and said he’d be here in two hours.” Tommy continues to tighten drum hardware as he talks. “What?!” I screamed, “And you believed him?!” “ Yeah,” Tommy said wile raising two tom-toms. “Shit! I’ll be right back guys!” I grab my coat and rush toward the door. “Well, hurry up! We still have to rehearse for tonight’s sow!” Joey snaps. “Just make sure your fuckin’ bass is in tune tonight, Joey!” I turn point and yell. “Ha, ha! Very funny! Besides, I thought you liked it that way!” he yells as I run out the door. I burn rubber all the way down to Steve’s place on 1st Ave and park right in front. I use my key and race upstairs to his studio apartment. I bang loudly on the door. “Steve!” I yell, “Open up this fuckin’ door right now before I bash it in!” I hear him mumble. “What?” I yell. “It’s open!” he yells back. I rush in to find Steve on the floor. A used syringe and empty spoon were on the coffee table. Besides the bed on the floor, a small dresser and a few chairs, was the only furniture he had! “Oh man, not again, not today. Fuck man!” My voice is shaky as I run my hand thru my hair. I turn back toward him. “I asked you to stay straight until after the show, man. Fuck!” “Yeah, but this is the best dope on the street right now. I couldn’t help it man,” he slurs. He crawls over to and up on the couch. I grab up his kit and put it in one of the wall drawers. “Oh bullshit!” I say angrily. I start to think to myself how good this little cretin’s got it! He’s in college at CUNY studying behavioral science. He gets money from his parents for rent and tuition. Then, he blows whatever he makes from playing on dope. It leaves him continuously broke! “Look, Steve, get up,” I lift up and try to help him walk it off. He just laughs as he drags his feet across the floor. An hour and a half later we show up at the club with only 30 minutes of rehearsal time left. We don’t go on until 9pm but the bar opens at 7:30pm to get everybody as drunk as possible before the show. I suggest we all go get something to eat before playing and everyone agrees. We walked down to the corner and bought some hot dogs from he vendor. “Hey, Johnny.” “Yeah, Tommy?” “What are we gonna do about Steve, man?” he whispers to me. “Shit, don’t worry about it, man. I’ll take care of it.” I am unconvincing. “That’s what you always say but he just keeps getting worse!” Tommy shakes his finger in my face. “ Look, man,” I start, Tommy interrupts- “I mean you always say you’re gonna take care of it and you keep cartin’ his ass to the hospital! When are you gonna see that he’ll never change. Let’s dump him. I know this other guy…”