This writing was accepted for publication in the 84 page perfect-bound issue... cc&d magazine (v215) (the December 2010 Issue) |
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Are You Listening?
Amanda Berthault
I’m bored as fuck and there’s still four hours until the show. So I’m just out here having a smoke, killing time. You know what I like about this place? This area here, underground, all secret like. We can park our tour bus and unload our gear in peace, you know? That’s how come I can come out here to have a smoke, get some fresh air.
It’s a nice day, though, isn’t it, with the sun shining through that open area over there? Not too hot, not too cold. See, I’m from California where it’s hot as hell this time of year.
Anyway, yeah so you like my band, eh? Yeah, we’re pretty awesome. People have been flocking to all our shows so far, sold out crowds, fucking insane crowds. It’s such an awesome rush to see people worship you. They sing along with me, every word I’ve written for every song. Here comes one of those worshippers now.
No, dude, I don’t sign autographs anymore. Because dumbass collectors sell it all on eBay and shit. Oh, you’re a real fan? Go there and buy one then. My signature’s worth more if it’s rare anyways.
What a nerd. You see that? Fans are only cool when they’re in the mosh pit screaming their heads off during the shows. You’re alright, though, I’ll give you that, but you know what I mean. You probably think I’m an ass. A lot of people do. That look on your face reminds me of my ex-girlfriend when she threw me out. Went on about what a pompous, insensitive bastard I am, how I treated her like dirt, but she just didn’t understand me. Do you have a girlfriend? Married, eh? Well, good luck with that.
Anyway, you know what really pisses me off about it all? She accused me of hurting our son. Yeah, I got a kid. Should have mentioned that before. He’s three now. She said I hit him and stuff, which is bull. Okay, I’ll admit I really didn’t want to have a kid. Like, really really didn’t want him. So I stayed away from him as much as possible, ‘cause he’d cry and spit up and shit and be a pain in the ass. Do you got kids? Ah, so I take it you like kids then. Good for you. Anyway, Stacy – that’s my ex-girlfriend – she would get all pissed at me for smoking around him, and swearing, and playing my music loud late at night. That’s why I didn’t want a kid. There’s no freedom, you know?
Huh? Oh...yeah, his name is Jake. And no, I did not hit him. I’m not that much of a bastard. Do I really look like the kind of guy that would do shit like that? Wait, don’t answer that. Now, I really did love Stacy. She was a special woman, someone who I thought understood me, but as I said before, she clearly didn’t. I miss the days before the kid came along. Things were so much more laid back, just plain great. I’m sure you know what I mean. She never got in the way of the band. She loved the music, in fact. She’d come to almost all our practices and a lot of our shows. It was always great to see her out there as I was singing. Yeah, things were good. Very good.
Yes, I guess you could say the band is more important. I mean, it is how I make a living. Music is life, man. You agree? Good, ‘cause that’s how it is. Taking this band away from me would be like ripping my heart out and chopping it into little pieces. You have to make sacrifices sometimes, and Stacy throwing me out was one of those. I didn’t argue. I just left.
Hey. Dude, are you even listening to me? What are you looking at? Wow, a stuffed animal, that’s random. Yeah, maybe someone dropped it. Can I see it? It’s a little dog. Hey, that reminds me of something. Something about Jake.
I had to baby sit one day, which I did everything to try and get out of, but no dice. The kid was watching TV so I had some time to work on some songs, but then he comes up to me like, “Daddy come here, daddy come see this,” but I told him to go back to watching TV. But he wouldn’t stop, which was weird ‘cause he just never really annoyed me like that before, but finally I got pissed, grabbed him up, sat him down in front of the TV and told him to stay the hell there and shut up. Then he cried, and yeah I felt bad, but the thing of it was, he wasn’t crying because I yelled at him. He cried because there was a commercial on TV for those stuffed battery-operated dogs that do realistic stuff like bark and walk and whatever. He wanted one. I told him forget it. Now that I think about it again, I feel bad. He’s just a kid, and kids want stuff.
Ah well, all this shit depresses me. I should probably get back inside since sound check is soon. It was nice to meet you dude, thanks for listening to my pointless rambling. Hope you enjoy the show.
Hey wait. Give me that little dog. Maybe I’ll give it to my son. Yeah. Yeah, I’m gonna give it to him soon as I get home. What do you think?