Saturday, May 16, 2020

SUBURBAN ZONE

Late Fall, 1984. For months a white sky, occasional cold rain, a cold wind from all directions. Nothing to look forward to except Winter. There is no love in this world anymore.

My name is Esther,  I am 19. Dash is 17. He is my day and night and he has no idea how I feel. We are two homeless kids in suburbia. I'm sure that in a hundred years our lives will seem strange, important, and futuristic but today I am only cold and hungry and I miss Dash. 

Through the mist at the corner of Robb and Lora I spy a white utility shed adorned with a bold, beautiful, black Circle-A. I say a prayer to nobody and wait. Neighbors watch from every window. My blouse is spray-painted bright orange, my Levi's are tight and black, my motorcycle boots only heighten my mystery. After a minute of this fashion show, I spin around once and head three blocks over to Zig Zag. Church bells ring on and on so I sit on the sidewalk and smoke. 

Soon I hear Dash yelling my name, I stand, I see him running toward me. I put my arms around him. He's crying and pretends he's not crying. The rain comes down colder and faster. We don't mind. We start out on the endless cold walk to the city. It seems like it's a thousand miles away. Singing helps. I sing "Borderline" by Madonna first. We luck out and get a ride from a punk rocker: leather jacket, spiky hair and all. He drops us off at a run-down hotel. Dash and I share a room for a week. We don't even kiss once. Too sad. 

Later, Dash was elected President of the United States. We both found that fact hilarious.

Thursday, April 16, 2020

SEXCAPADES KANSAS EIGHTY-EIGHT

Less than three seconds of "Taps" hummed, now Esther smiled, then laughed at the July Kansas Dusk only because she was senseless. The end of the day was always and ever a fantastic event for her, tho'. Esther Lustig, singer of a mildly acclaimed "Worthlessville, Ohio" pop combo, the super-phenomenal American Movie Star, as seen in the pages of all the supercool punk rock fanzines. FLIPSIDE raved, "Baffling and not entirely pointless." And the Cincinnati Scene Report in MAXIMUM ROCKNROLL gushed, "Stereotypical girl bass player and stereotypical girl singer combined at last! And O! The Anguish!"

Esther stood at the stage door smoking a Kool King, pacing up front now to see the crowd, half Lawrence College Kids, some men with makeup and women in scattered fancy weird outfits, a few gothic types moping about. The rest were all punks, punk rockers, hardcore kids, skaters, and cross-dressers. Then, Shock! Esther was outside now and from the loading dock she spies a boy who keeps shooting dart-looks her way. He's cute enough. Oh, well. Whatever.

At Eleven-ish the 3-piece played "Kick Out the Jams." Neat. Then, like a bolt from Sky Pilot, "Lusty" Essie launched into her rant: "Rock is NOT dead. No, Rock never existed at all! I'm sorry, A Sick Version of Rock DOES exist. Yes! Call it CORPORATE ROCK,  it is all around us, in us, of us. Fuck-Up Rock Rules, tho'. And fuck this next song. It's called, 'Mona Lisa Overdrive Theme.' Everyone of you..."guys" is a waste case! Have fun, I guess.  NOW!" Bass, Voice, Drum, Guitar commence to play and once again American Movie Star, as ever, prove they remain the greatest band there ever was.

After the show, the Cute Boy approaches Esther, she likes his looks OK and within 20 minutes they find a  cot in the club storeroom, they go to town, fucking, sucking, even love-like kisses are given and accepted. Cute Boy sported a condom, no one had a cold sore, so it could've been worse. Superfine.

Six, Dawn, Boy long gone back to his Legendary Skater House,  Esther Lustig waits with her cohorts on a 24-hr. mechanic replacing spark plugs or something in their incredible Mystery Machine replica van. And finally on the road to Sioux Falls at 9 a.m.

Esther sings "The Happiest Girl in the Whole USA" loud and somehow it's true. She is happy. Call out the National Guard.