A Little (Semi)Autobiographical (Re)Creative Writing for Your Extreme (Dis)Pleasure

And so there we all were. And the bands were playing, and just about everybody who'd been anybody was there, except for a lot of the people who you were glad weren't there to spoil the fun. And the place looked a lot like the real Cavity had looked, I think (not that I can really remember, because the place itself had been so memorably unmemorable), except that Staryn had gussied it up and made the place look great, had put up all kinds of photos from back in the day of some of the greats, and the near-greats, and the not-so-greats, and people you weren't sure who the fuck they were. Jimmy Bradshaw was in a lot of them. He was one of the greats, he was one of the few who couldn't make it that night, and he was one of the boys I'd always loved. He was such a mensch, such a funny guy, such a hot dude, and still was. Jimmy was married now, to this real hot redhead named Sara, I think. It's the same girl Nathan dated for a while way back in the day, the girl he wrote "Red Snapper" about.

And the real conversation piece in all the artwork was this big 3-by-5-foot backlit transparency of one particular photo that was hung up high on a wall near the door where everybody could see it. It was a photo of the thankfully late GG Allin from the time he played the Cavity, down among the crowd with his hands behind him, almost looking like he was handcuffed (the police did drag him away eventually, like they did most times he played anywhere), but he was really taking a poop in his own hands so he could christen the audience with it, just because he was GG Allin and that was the sort of thing GG Allin did. And there on the far left in that photo was Grant Dorian, maybe 22 years old at the time, yelling joyfully with his fist in the air, you couldn't miss him if you tried. Heck, the kid on the far right in the photo couldn't miss him. Grant was there that night, of course. He was still drumming in bands, although the Rockbusters didn't play those anniversary shows, I think because Dicko couldn't make it down from New York.

I was in such a genial and carefree mood, I was telling everybody I'd ever had the hots for how much I'd always loved them, how much I'd always wanted to jump their bones, and giving 'em all big hugs. And I was talking to Dave Hermann, who was another one of the greats of course, heck the Cavity had been his club, and Dave still looked like Zappa and he probably will forever, and I was telling Dave how much I'd always loved Staryn.

"You know he likes girls, right?"


Of course I knew that. I didn't care. Staryn was such a beautiful guy. Tall and rugged, though, like most of the guys I'd always had crushes on. You'd never say Jimmy or Brent was a beauty, exactly. They were all tall and handsome, but Staryn was an angel, and he had such a sweet way about him. Everybody loved Staryn.

"I dunno, man," I continued. "Say you and Staryn were shipwrecked on a desert island, just the two of you. You'd spend a few days sending up flares and cracking open coconuts, and then Staryn would start looking at you out of the corner of his eye and saying to himself, 'Hm, Dave.' And that would be it."

Dave laughed. The band started playing a new song.

"And he'd make you his little bitch, which would be pretty easy, because he's bigger and stronger than you. And you wouldn't be all that happy about it at first, but then one day, after you'd both long given up on being rescued, he'd be in the middle of plowing you and you'd look up at him and that face and think 'Hm, Staryn... I guess I could o' done worse...' and then he'd sense the tender feelings washing over you and start plowing you even harder."

Dave laughed hard. We both laughed hard.

The bands kept playing. It was getting towards the end of the night. I wandered around the place, went up to the stage to get a closer look at what the bass player was doing. I ended up back at the table where Dave was selling the t-shirts he'd made especially for the shows. On the back of them it said "20 YEARS LET'S BE FRIENDS." Dave had his own silk-screen shop, he did some fine work. T-shirts, stickers, you name it. And then Staryn came up and starting talking to us. And everybody was having a good time. And finally I gave Staryn a big hug, and he hugged me back, and I told him to stay beautiful. And he smiled.

And the band kept playing...


  1. I love this. Please write more.

  2. I'm very glad that you enjoyed it, my dear. Of course, I'm writing on here just about every day... it's just that it's usually a bit more didactic than this. Cheers. :>

  3. Great piece from your life. Rocker guys are easy to fall for.

  4. Waex! Good to see you, pal. Shit, tell me about it. If I hadn't been one myself, I'm sure I would have been a groupie! Haha. Anyway, I'm excited that our few loyal readers here will be reading your very first post today...