The day I graduated my mom had come down from St. Louis she'd drove her Corvette down and was going to drive my truck back up and let me borrow the vette for a few month's.
I moved into my own apartment in Houston for 3 month's the day of graduation, I scored pretty good on money gifts about $8,000 most of it from my mom of course. I partied with my best friends that I'd known from 5th grade through 10th grade before I moved Jr/Sr. years, the guys I'd started a band with, the guys who all promised we would meet back up when we're all retired and live together partying all the time until we die. My bestest friend Jake took me to his new stepsisters house the second day I was there, which was actually Lee Labrada's house that was a lot of fun, I was only 18 and got dizzy drunk right by his pool. Jakes new step-father was rich they had a lakehouse and we hung out there for a week and a half drinking and screwing around with these girls who lived in the area I had my first underwater blow job at that time in a hot tub. He then took me to the bar where one of our other friends was playing in a band, we went every night that weekend and didn't sleep at all we just drank coffee and did lines to stay awake during the day and then acid at night....then we slept for a couple days and chilled. Then we met our 4 other friends from the old neighborhood, went camping and built a huge bonfire and remembered all the silly shit we were gonna do as a band not more than three years before. I made plans to make time to hang with each of them before I had to go to Navy Bootcamp. So I did, I hung out with each one for a few days each and then they all had to get back to their jobs and their normal lives. I was pretty much alone the last 2 weeks except for nights when they would hang out and weekends when they'd crash at my apartment. Then the final week I decided to spend time my mother up in St Louis. I packed up the three boxes of most treasured belongings books and CD's mostly and mailed them to my mom. Turned in my key to the apt. manager hopped in the Vette and cruised from Houston to St Louis non-stop except to piss, eat or gas up. The look people would give me when I was driving that car those 3 month's was the best, "How is such a young kid in such a nice car?" They probably thought I'd stolen it or something since it had Missouri plates and I was in Texas. I spent that last week running everyday and doing the rounds to see all of my relatives. Then I hopped on a flight to Chicago and ended up eventually in Hawaii where I made new friends and new history.....
I almost didn't though, I was having way too much fun doing nothing and partying for 3 month's that I almost made a very poor decision. Our old drummer Billy was making a killing at the time selling blow to the rich suburban kids he almost sucked me into joining him. He really made it sound so enticing, he had girls all over him and he promised he would turn one of the rooms in his house into a studio where we could spend all our time making music. I was so tempted but I remembered when we first started at 15 Billy was so enthusiastic like I was our creative energies meshed so well, his drumming drove me and we both were Doors and Jimi fans on the same plane of understanding, but then he started getting lazy, smoking too much weed and getting into trouble with a married womans husband, not showing up for jam sessions or only playing for an hour before running off to the living room to smoke more weed, watch tv and pass out from booze. He also got jealous of me because I had the gift with words that he wanted. We'd watched The Doors, which was pretty new back then, a million times and he wanted to be Jim Morrison, he wanted to be a poet, but I was the poet, the lyricist of the band. He knew that and he didn't like it. For some reason I guess he thought coke was giving him more enlightenment he wanted to try again, but I knew from past experience that somehow he would screw it up so I kept on my original path.......
???? PUNKS
