“As my bones grew they hurt, they hurt really bad.”
This is the silhouette of my youth. I was a typical ordinary kid growing up in the Chicago suburbs, a suburb we call P-town. I went to Freddy Mercury High School. It consisted of all types of kids: jocks, punks, preps, fags, metal heads, hippies, losers, nerds, sluts, you name it. I’m not very sure where I fit in. Academically I floated through my classes. I didn’t give a fuck about my future or the stupid shit that they wanted me to learn. I developed an education my own way, like once I tried to create a time machine. I had made the decision that if I committed the rest of my life to physics and science that I would be able to create the machine and then come back into time and tell myself how to do it. This way I really didn’t even have to study the rest of my life to develop the method. It was a sweet ass shortcut. I wrote down on a piece of paper a time and a date and then put it under my bed so that after I created the machine I would be able to come back to that specific time and tell myself how to do it. When that date and time hit my doorbell rang. I went down to answer it and an old man with a giant white beard answered. He was balding and looked a lot like Charles Darwin. He said, “Hello me, meet the real me.” Holy shit, I thought to myself. Then he told me how he did it. If you create an infinite regress of mirrors and vacuum out all the air resistance light can multiply by infinity and travel past its own speed and back into time. He then showed me how to compress my body into light so that I could perform this procedure.
Anyway the millennium changed and I entered my junior year of Freddy Mercury High School. I had joined a rock band called “The Silent Dawn.” We were good musically, but our vocalist sucked goat balls. I played bass and was having lots of fun. All of my friends were mostly seniors. I think it is because I have an older brother Marty and I always got along better with older kids then those my own age or younger. We were getting pretty popular and spent money recording an album in the studio. It sounded good and we got it shrink wrapped and sold it to our friends. However, we probably weren’t that popular because at that point I still had never gotten laid. In High School the main objective of any teenage boy is to get laid as soon as fucking possible. I had messed around here and there, but had never gotten to Puss Ville, population me. When the year was coming to an end three of my metal/hardcore friends decided they were going to take a senior road trip to California for a week. I wasn’t a senior, but they asked if I wanted to come. I said, “Yeah man, I’ll hit that shit up. Let’s do it.”
My three friends were named: Forbes, Harrington, and Gart. I always found it a little odd that they had the same names as the three astronauts from the Twilight Zone episode, “And When the Sky Opened up,” but that is the honest truth. Why would I make up my friends names? Shit. Forbes was a good friend that really liked the band Motley Crew. When I first met him he was a huge dork and had big glasses and talked kind of funny. In high school he got contacts, pierced his lip, and grew out his hair. Harrington had been my friend for the longest. He loved death metal, but looked like a clean cut normal dude. He was also very straight edge and seemed to praise his own intelligence way too much. If you would say something stupid, even in a fun joking way, he would always call you on it and try to put you down. Harrington had a different motive for going to California. He grew up there as a little kid and seemingly wanted to rediscover his old roots or some shit like that. This conflicting motive for journeying seems to have forced him into the antagonistic role in my story. However, I don’t think he would be displeased. In fact, it might be that I am the antagonist and he is really the presence of moral virtue. Let’s just say he didn’t share in the rest of our hedonistic visions of a senior trip to California. Gant was a punk who started getting into hardcore. We even had a band called, “Samsara Breaking.” He played drums and I screamed in serpent tongues. We played in Indiana once. We were all really stoned and it ended in a beer bottle getting thrown at one of us. Fucking asshole country kids, they have no respect for the American dream.
Here is the story of my trip ohh my brothers and sisters. I will omit no detail what so ever. At this point I am seventeen years old and need to tell every detail of my California adventure, for this has been a time no man should ever forget.
It all started at the airport in Chicago. I left for O’Hare at around seven. My mother dropped me off at the front door and I said, “Good-Bye” and left. That’s right. Call me a pussy if you will. My mom drove me to the airport to meet up with my friends who drove to California. I had shit to do. If it makes me sound cooler that bitch with the three tits from Total Recall drove me to the airport. I found that my destination was gate c-17. I walked through walk ways with my back pack and suit case. I came to beautiful walk ways with wonderful dangling lights. I was on my own in the airport and for the first time in my life everything felt poetic to me. I came to my gate and requested a window seat. The men told me to wait till nine and perhaps one would open up. I became restless and kept asking if one was open and he kept telling me to wait until nine. Finally, I got my window seat and was on the plane. At first the seat next to me was open and I wished very much for a hot young chick with no clothes to sit down next to me and start sucking my dick. This of course was a dream that would not happen. An old lady sat next to me with reddish hair. I said not a word to her and took out my copy of “On the Road” by Jack Kerouac and began reading. Of course I dropped the book before take off and watched the Earth slip away. Dreams slip by like soap through my hands. I remembered that when I was little I would never want to leave ground. I would say to my parents, “up-A, up-A, NO UP-A!” They would laugh and I would remain frightened and die a little inside. Now I have come to love airplanes and the excitement of staring into the spectrum of space thrills me. I received several drinks on the plane and ate many peanuts. They were delicious. At one point the coke I was drinking was passed to a flight attendant and half of it spilled on the sleeping red hared lady. The homosexual male flight attendant looked at me in confusion as to what to do. He then handed me several napkins and smiled and shrugged his shoulders. I proceeded to wipe the liquid off the sleeping woman’s tray without making a sound. I then wiped what little I could off her lap and took out the “Time Machine” by H.G. Wells for I was finished with my other book. She woke up shortly after and noticed she was all wet. The red haired woman looked to the other man next to her and said, “What happened?” He didn’t really know and said nothing. I kept on reading trying to refrain from laughing hysterically. The whole ride I really had to go to the bathroom, but fear of disturbing the sleeping woman and others kept me from pissing. Finally toward the end I made it into the isle so I could go. I don’t think it is really like me to be scared to ask people such stupid questions. Maybe it was traveling alone that brought that fear. Either way I made it. The plane touched ground after four hours. San Diego was cold or at least colder than Chicago. I stepped off the plane to see my two friends sitting and waiting for me. Harrington and Gant were there, but Forbes wasn’t present.
“Hey, you bastards” I yelled, “Where the fuck is Forbes?”
“He got sick and is puking his brains out in the bathroom,” said Gant
“Well drag his ass out here. It’s time to rock this shit.” They seemed somewhat tired and uninterested about being where they were. They were probably fatigued from driving all the way out here from Chicago. They got Forbes and we jumped in the car. He was sick to his stomach. Forbes, from what I could tell, appeared deathly ill. Of course he wasn’t but this was what I saw. We all drove out of the airport and into the streets of San Diego. It seemed somewhat beautiful, however, broken down. I asked my traveling brothers how their trip had gone. Besides seeing a naked man in Vegas and having a prostitute ask them for a ride, it seemed they were pretty boring and dead. We then went to Pizza Hut/Taco Bell. I don’t know how those two got combined. Tacos and pizza are completely different shit. I sure hope someone gets fired for that fuck up. Anyway, we started talking about our adventures that were to come. Forbes stayed in the car with a puke bag. Gant seemed fed up with being bored and asked himself why he had even come on this trip. This made me feel bad for he had been planning it for so long and to just throw it all away would be a total shame. I started pointing out beautiful girls and telling him of all the fun we were to have. He was most grateful I came along. We ate and got back on the road. Harrington was driving and he seemed to have been driving like a mad man. This was out of character for him. In Chicago he would always have his hands in the proper location and drive like a dildo was up his ass. He also made several hysterical remarks about weird shit like dipping his balls in clam chowder. They were so stupid I felt at ease. They told me how they had went to the San Diego zoo and how the beach had looked like sewer shit. This saddened me, because I have always heard such great things. The dream of seeing the end of the world in the western lands had been so glorious. Yet the dream had literary been turned to shit. I made a promise for that not to happen to me. We were off to Carpentersville, but first we had to drive past Los Angeles.
Coming from Chicago, Los Angeles looked like hell. There is this dirty orange cloud that hangs over the city. It might be hellfire from all the sin and pestilence that city has to offer. I started making jokes to cover our head. These cocksuckers will shoot you for looking at them. You don’t need reasons in L.A. After three hours of driving and listening to the same radiohead cd over and over we arrived in Carpentersville.
I was keeping my eyes open for Jesus. Cleary a town named Carpentersville must be run by the grand emperor Jesus. We went up a huge mountain that over looked the town. We were to stay with one of Harrington’s cousins. I hoped they had a swimming pool, but they didn’t. This was o.k. though, because I was eating a lot and I like to abide by the rules of waiting five minutes after eating before swimming. It’s just common practice for fuck sake. The cousin lived on a ranch with horses. There were several of these horrid beasts. I swore to myself that this was heaven. We met their lovely dog on the front porch salivating from the heat. “Hey there little buddy,” I called out. “Got any weed?”
“Quiet,” said Harrington. “Don’t be saying shit like that around here.”
“Oh calm down, look they left us a note.” It read, “make yourselves comfortable and at home.” Looking out from the mountain was a godly sight. We had stumbled upon a great hour. We decided to go check out the beach. I wanted to see water and sand. After all this was my first day here. The second greatest beach in the world lay here. I wanted to find some pretty dames and lay out my towel next to theirs and rest my head on there big California breasts.
We made camp on the beach. At this point I made my California real by taking off my shirt and doing a summersault into the sand. Lying on my back I saw everything I wanted to see. I made love to the California sand. Then I walked with Harrington to the water. It was freezing, but perfect. We walked around and sucked in the nectar of life. Then, I jumped into the freezing water. Some girls were playing volleyball near by. I would have talked to them my dick was shrunk from the cold water and chicks notice that type of shit. Am I right? Right!!!?? Right!!!!
Gant and I then went into town. We were looking for a place to score some weed and buy a pipe. We asked a black man on a balcony if he had any. He seemed a bit confused and then just laughed. We then asked if there was a head shop around and he told us to go to a place called Busters. We walked around aimlessly diving into restaurants and gas station asking where Busters is. We finally found it and a beautiful young California girl showed us where the pipes were. It was a wet dream. We were in awe and quickly left to go get some money. We met back up with Harrington and Forbes and all got in the car. We were keeping our plans, of scoring some sweet ass chronic, a secret from Harrington. We knew he would be pist. He is like Jesus sometimes only without the booze. We told him we were looking for shoes, which we actually were. When he wasn’t around we bought two pipes. I got a huge Buddha shaped bubbler and Gant had a huge purple pipe he nicknamed purple haze. We asked the guy in back if we could get some tea for our new bowls and he told us to give him our number and he would call us soon. He said he had good chronic with red hairs and that it would be sixty dollars. Being the retard that I am, I gave him my parent’s phone home number.
Then we went back to the crib on the hill and Harrington’s cousin came home about the same time. We carried in a 24 pack of beer for her and her husband. They had a baby girl as well. We played with her and made googly faces and all that shit. We then complemented them on their house and told them thanks for letting us stay with them. We than took a walk on their ranch. We came upon a horse stable with several black horses and a few white ones. Gant dared me to jump the fence. I didn’t hesitate and jumped over and started petting a white one. She was a magnificent beast, like something out of a fairytale. I like all that Camelot and Dragon shit. It takes me away from my stupid worthless life and puts me in a world of adventure. Now a day all people have of adventure is picking out pants at the Gap. Gant couldn’t take it and quickly jumped the fence and joined me in the petting frenzy. The other two stood back. Harrington expressed his hatred of horses. He even told a story where he rode one once when he was little and a bee stung it. The fucker nearly kicked him off and stepped on him. Harrington and nature don’t mix. Gant and I didn’t care. This creature was God to us. We then jumped back over the fence and down the mountain to the house. I saw several butterflies and cursed myself for not bringing my net. I wanted to catch every beautiful thing that ever existed and suffocate it and put in on display. Isn’t that what Hollywood and showbiz have thought us all.
We got back to the house and talked awhile with the couple. They were going to make us dinner. Harrington’s cousin was the most depressing woman that ever existed. A smile never crossed her face. Apart from the baby she also had a beautiful daughter who was all dressed up with make up in pictures. We were told she had no father though, so the man dating the cousin must have just been some dude. She kept telling us stories about her daughter. It seemed she lived vicariously through her. She then offered us beer so I started drinking like a fish. In no time I was drunk and eating hot dogs on a heavenly hill with the saddest women ever. We then decided to walk around town.
We went into Santa Barbra which was near Carpentaria and I was pretty wasted and wanted desperately to find a girl. Every sexy female that walked by my friends would point out to me and expect me to act. Those pussy shits had no fucking balls. We came across two somewhat cut little girls in huge coats. They were across the street at a red light waiting. I ran over drunk as hell with nothing to say. “Hello!” I yelled as they looked at me in horror. “I’m from Chicago and have ummm never been here before….. Is there anything to DO in this town? Can I DO anything? Hmmm hmmm.” They saw the horned beast that I was.
“We really don’t know,” said one of the girls, “We are from Texas.” I started stumbling and breathing heavily and they could tell I wasn’t in a proper state of mind.
“Why the big coats?” I mumbled. “Is it cold here in comparison to Texas?”
“We have to go,” said the girl.
They left me there as my friends then crossed the street to join me. “Way to join in there Amigos.”
“Hey, it looked like you had things under control,” retorted Forbes.
“Well I didn’t. Those fine ass bitches are now dust. What now?”
“Let’s check out some book stores,” said Harrington, God damn Harrington with his fucking book stores.
“Fine, maybe I’ll get a big book like the bible, open it up to the middle, then slam it shut with my dick inside.” We then found some book stores and shops and all sorts of stupid tourist shit that is uninteresting to everyone in the world. I realized this was going nowhere. We then drove back to Carpentaria.
One of the greatest times in my life took place there. It wasn’t very cold and there were stars out. The four of us stood there on that awe inspired beach and looked up at the sky. We longed for stars long faded and cried out to the night. “Release us, Oh Lord, from this torturing disappear.”
Forbes, however, found the beach at night lame. “What the fuck are we doing here,” he cried.
“Well you see Forbes, moments are light as sands. Some sands don’t slip through your fingers though. They stick in your palms and itch at the present.” I responded. I then picked up some sand and let it drop through my fingers. “This is one of those moments.”
“Nah, this is one of those shitty moments when sand is in your ass crack and you can’t get it out.”
“Hey, I was the one doing summersaults earlier. I got a whole ant hill up there.” He laughed and we all walked down the coast. I then felt free. To show this to my brothers I did two jumping jacks and ran out into the darkness. I could not see in front of me or the sands below my feet. It was complete freedom. I noticed Harrington behind me also floating on the sand and not far behind him was Gant. Forbes stayed behind. He was holding in his spirit of adventure until later. In my never ending dark run across invisible sands I saw a dark figure in the distance. I couldn’t tell if it was a man or women. I didn’t want to meet them though. After all whom the fuck is out on the beach at night. I stopped my run, the greatest run of my life and turned back to face the darkness.
I was curious all night as to what the figure was. Maybe it was the girl of my dreams in a white dress with a martini in one hand and a joint in the other. Maybe it was God, or the Devil. Maybe it was a tree. Maybe it was the life force of a billion stars. Maybe it was a glitch in the superstring makeup of our galaxy. Maybe it was a pole. Maybe it was me. Maybe it was you. Maybe it was too many maybes. Marten Luther King repeated that “I have a dream” phrase over and over and it worked out for him so don’t get all mad about my maybe paragraph in the beginning of tea time.
I awoke the next morning in paradise. I wanted to wake up early and walk the trail up the mountain. I guess I didn’t have the strength. We were hungry and so we drove to IHOP. I had the rooty tooty fresh and fruity as usual. Then we went looking for shoes. I really did need shoes. All I had were sandals and that just wouldn’t cut it. Also they were starting to smell. On the way to the store several girls walked by. “Hey Gant, I bet you could pork the fat ones.”
“I always get the fat ones.” Gant replied
“Hey, I heard fat chicks give good head,” said Forbes. “They pretty much have too.”
“I believe it,” I responded. We looked for shoes for awhile and found nothing. Then we went back to the house on the hill. I was starting to think California might be one big downer. People come out here to live like stars and make it big, but most of them end up sad and alone. We then got ready and went to the beach. We put down our towels and lay down. I felt the freezing water once again and didn’t mind its cold touch. I got restless sitting there and started to dig a hole. While the rest of them sat there reading I dug a big fucking hole in the sand. Just then three beautiful girls walked by.
“Nice hole,” she said.
I smiled and tried to speak but couldn’t. They kept on walking. “Shit, we have to follow them.” After much worry and fear finally Gant said he would come with me. We were a ways behind them, but were catching up quickly.
“What are we going to say to them?”
“I don’t know something clever.”
“I have nothing.”
“Yeah, me neither,” I said. “Just keep walking.” We kept following a good distance behind them then Gant got nervous and started walking into the water.
“This is stupid.”
“Come on you bastard. What do we have to lose? We can’t give up now.” He then got out of the water and we followed back in pursuit. Then one of the girls turned around and waved at us. They were aware of our presence and started giggling to themselves. We hurried our step and caught up to them.
“Hey, how are you doing?” I asked
“Good,” said one of the girls. “You guys following us?”
“Yep, we like to follow girls on the beach,” said Gant.
“Is that so? Isn’t that a little weird?”
“Yes it is. We are highly unusual individuals,” I said. “We’re from Chicago.”
“What are you guys doing out here?”
“We are on a great, epic, journey to the coast. This is our senior trip and we are trying to make the best out of the end of summer. I’ve heard great things from movies and television. Hell, doesn’t Arnold Schwarzenegger live out here? How cool is that.”
“Yeah, pretty damn cool lots of good music too.”
“Ahh right! Punk Rock!”
“Sure, Blink 182 is playing in a few weeks. It should be good times.”
We knew then and that these girls were obviously retarded, but we kept on talking. Eventually we ran out of things to say and told them they should meet up with us later at the house on the hill. They never came. At least we had some balls though and talked to them. We went back and told Forbes and Harrington what had happened and they didn’t believe us. They saw Gant walk into the water and figured we pussed out after that.
“At least we are doing something you cock-less bastards.” Then they went for a walk and Gant and I discussed how we couldn’t let them bring us down and that our fun wouldn’t be pissed upon. We then wondered about our red haired tea. Where the hell was it? We went back to that store while they were gone and found the guy. He had called my parents house several times. This was not good. He had it with him though so we went into the back room with him and he pulled out a bag of dank weed. We sniffed it for good measure and paid the man sixty dollars.
“Don’t let Harrington see,” said Gant. “He will freak out if he sees this shit.”
“No shit!” I put the tea in my pocket and we went back to the beach. I was in a chipper mood now that I had talked to a few girls who seemed to actually like us and had a fresh bag of California grass. I decided to treat my brothers to dinner that night. I had money from a brief part I had in a religious movie. We went to an Italian restaurant and I had the veal parmesan. We rejoiced and celebrated that night.