We Are Still Tornadoes

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We Are Still Tornadoes Page 9

by Michael Kun


  But I digress! And I apologize if I’ve had too many cans of Tab and am a little hyper. Caffeinated soda has become my close friend here at college, especially during FINALS. Our fridge is like an Andy Warhol painting of Tab cans. Anyway, the point here is that we are psychoanalyzing you during some extra time at the end of a GREEN period, leading into a block of calming BLUE downtime.

  Keeping in mind that Psych 101 is a very introductory class and not a more high-level class like Abnormal Psych (clearly applicable to you), or Freudian Analysis (probably applicable to you), or The Crippling Effects of Daddy Issues (okay, so maybe that isn’t really a class, but it would be so applicable to both me and you), I am going to take a shot at using it to address your “underachiever guy” question. One thing we’ve talked about in class is the nature–nurture debate. There are different schools of thought on how much a person’s development is influenced by their natural genetic makeup and how much they are molded and nurtured by environmental influences. Some scholars say we are purely the product of our nature, some say that we are purely the result of environmental influences, and some say we are a mix of both. The “underachiever guy” thing can be analyzed under those schools of thought. On the nature side of things, I could say that you are following in your dad’s footsteps because you are genetically very similar to him and, like him, despite being a very smart, sensitive, caring guy, you didn’t get great grades, didn’t go to college, and are now a salesman. On the nurturing side of things, I could say that you didn’t go to college because your dad put way too much pressure on you and, like a lot of teenagers, you hated being told what to do and you reacted by doing just the opposite. As your friend, I would say it was probably a mix of those natural and environmental things, plus a bunch of other stuff, like being a funny guy who liked to make everyone laugh by clowning around in class, dating the very high-maintenance Samantha during senior year (seriously, she could have killed Larry Varella’s GPA), and obsessing over learning all the guitar parts of the Pretenders’ first album.

  The most important thing, though, is that you haven’t screwed up your life. You could still go to college if you really wanted to. But I’m feeling like that’s not what you want to do, anyway. You’re hitting your stride with these great songs that you are writing. You are really talented, Scott. Please send me a tape of Crush performing your original songs. I really want to hear the lyrics paired with the music, including “Daddy Issues” (I’m sorry I was so Everything-Is-About-Me about that song—I really do want to hear it) and “You Don’t Know Me.” I’m a little worried about how I will react to the Samantha song after what you told me about the party, but send it anyway, okay? Would it be okay if Jane, Dorothy, and I all listen to the tape when you send it? I know they will want to hear Crush, and it would be a fun and distracting thing for us to do during one of our BLUE periods.

  Okay, I’ve got to get going. My mother called during my last YELLOW period and I had to talk to her for most of it, so now I am even more behind on Biology than before. (Of course, Biology is YELLOW, as in “You might want to start paying attention to this, RIGHT NOW!”) Unfortunately, my mom saw the S.S. Secretary and my dad steaming up and down the aisles in the grocery store and it was very upsetting for her. She was also nervous and excited because she got a part-time job at the card store for the holidays. Obviously, my mom is having her ups and downs, but I’m hopeful that getting out of the house and going back to work will be really good for her.

  Okay, now I’ve really gotta go.

  Waiting for my rocker friend’s tape,

  College Girl

  P.S. I won’t call Dorothy your “girlfriend” if you won’t call James my “College Boyfriend Number 2.” Or anything else with the phrase “Number 2” in it.

  P.P.S. Sorry I missed your call the other night, although Dorothy seemed quite happy to have talked to you. I’m wondering who you were really calling to talk to in the first place—not-your-girlfriend-Dorothy or your friend who happens to be a girl, Cath?

  P.P.P.S. I’m not tired of “Billie Jean” yet, even though not-your-girlfriend-Dorothy has played it at least 500 times since I last wrote. And I’m not exaggerating. But here’s the thing. She’s changed the lyrics when she sings along. What does she sing? “Scott Agee is now my boyfriend / He’s just a boy who thinks that I am the one / Someday we’ll have a son.” Yup, she not only considers you her boyfriend, but she’s already singing about having a child with you! You’re still going to name him little Disease Ridden Genitals Agee, right?

  P.P.P.P.S. I can’t even think about Christmas right now, but I’m glad you’re getting such a kick out of my present. Perhaps I should just plan on wrapping it back up and giving it to you since it obviously brings you so much joy!

  * * *

  AGEE’S MEN’S CLOTHING

  Where Men and Boys Shop

  EAST BLOOMFIELD, MARYLAND

  * * *

  December 11, 1982

  Dear Cath,

  Our letters must have crossed in the mail again because by the time I got your letter, I was already in a great mood. In case you haven’t already heard, we TOTALLY ROCKED at Duffy’s last week. Did you listen to the tape? Did you hear the crowd? They loved us. They totally loved us. And did you hear how they reacted to “You Don’t Know Me”? Did you hear that? I don’t care that they were drunk off their asses. They were singing along to a song I wrote and I sang. I’ve been on Cloud Eleven ever since. (Sorry, but Cloud Nine is for losers. And Cloud Ten is under construction.)

  Enough talking about how great I am. Let’s talk about you for a moment, okay? How great do you think I am? I don’t mean to put you on the spot, but you must feel awfully warm right now. I mean, basking in my glory and everything.

  We have three more gigs lined up before Christmas, including one at the Cat’s Eye Pub in Baltimore, and we may end up with a regular gig at Duffy’s on Thursday nights, which would be pretty cool. We’re having some stickers made up with the band’s logo on them to give out. Joe’s sister designed it, and it looks pretty awesome. We figure if people start seeing the stickers around town, they might want to come check us out when we play. And what happens when we play? We rock! We TOTALLY ROCK! But I didn’t need to tell you that, because you already heard the tape and know we rock.

  Okay, I’ll stop talking about myself. For a moment.

  Dorothy told me about James. She said he’s a much nicer guy than Walter. I’m glad to hear that. But I’m still happy to beat the crap out of Walter the next time I come down, just for the exercise. (I’m joking, of course. I can’t get into fights now. The last thing I need is for someone to punch me in the mouth. After all, my mouth is now my money-maker, baby!)

  Oh, I’m sorry, I’m talking about myself again. Seriously, let’s talk about you. So I’m glad to hear about James. And I’m glad that you, Dorothy, and Jane are having fun preparing for your final exams. I still think the best way to study is to wait until the bus ride to school in the morning, but I suppose you three would know better. Plus, they don’t even have buses at your school, do they? How cheap of them.

  Thank you for all your thoughts about my life. I really appreciate it. It’s funny that you suggested applying to colleges because I was already thinking about doing that. But then something happened—I BECAME A ROCK STAR. So I’m not thinking about that anymore.

  I’m glad to hear your mom got a job at the card store. I’ll stop by to say hello, assuming I can do that without being mobbed by our fans.

  As for your dad, what can I say? He’s a super-douche. If there were a land inhabited just by douches, your dad would be the king. Other douches would bow down to him.

  I have to run. Even though I am a rock star, I still have to go work in a men’s store in the morning.

  Talk to you soon.

  Good luck with finals.

  And in case you’re counting, it’s just a few weeks until you get to open your mom’s Christmas present! Holy crap! I may have to sneak into your house
just so I can see your reaction when you open it!

  Scott

  WAKE FOREST UNIVERSITY

  December 13, 1982

  Dearest Rock Star,

  I loved your tape! We all loved your tape! Me, Dorothy, and Jane, that is. It was so cool to finally hear Crush and to hear you sing! And not just because Dorothy had to give Thriller a break for a few hours! We had to listen to the tape several times because we were all talking over each other the first few times. Dorothy kept saying, “Is that Scott? Is that Scott’s guitar? Is that Scott singing?” Jane made me pull out one of your old letters so she could sing along with the lyrics to “You Don’t Know Me.” (I told you she’s a drama geek, right?) I was thrilled to hear you guys, but also a little emotional about the lyrics and how much they mean to you. Did you sing “Daddy Issues” or “Facial Tissues,” or whatever you’re calling it these days? It wasn’t on the tape, and we’d all really like to hear that one, too.

  And what about that song “Have a Heart”? Is that one of your songs, or is it a cover? If it’s a cover, whose song is it? And if it’s yours, I LOVE it.

  I’m so excited for you, Scott, and obviously you’re excited, too. Am I even going to recognize you when I get home next week? Should I be expecting spiked hair, tattoos, and multiple piercings? I mean, warn me now, because I have enough change waiting for me at home over Christmas. The last thing I need is for Billy Idol to come walking across the street to knock on the front door. (Ha, you didn’t think I’d know who Billy Idol is, did you?)

  By the way, Dorothy has been asking to visit “me” over Christmas break. Since you’ve specifically said that she’s not your girlfriend, I’ve been evasive and told her that I need to make sure that my mom is up for having houseguests. Actually, I know for a fact that my mom wants me to have as many friends as possible around over the holidays, and she’s told me multiple times to invite Dorothy and Jane and anyone else I want to stay with us. But this thing between you and Dorothy is more your business than mine, so it would be helpful if you could write to me one more time (or call and actually speak to me) and let me know if you want to see Dorothy over Christmas break, okay? We’ve got almost three full weeks of vacation, so if you want to see her, we’ll have time once I get home to plan the details and make sure we get to go to one of your gigs. I’d just like to know how to leave it with her before we leave campus. (And how cool is it that we’re talking about your “gigs,” by the way?)

  You might get the chance to meet James, too. He lives about an hour away from us, between Baltimore and Greenbelt, and we’ve talked about going for a run down around the Inner Harbor over break. I’m not sure if he’s my “boyfriend” since all we do is run together, but he’s a nice guy, and there really isn’t an opportunity to actually date someone during finals. We met in the art reading room at the Z. All the undergrads have a “reading period,” which is a week between the end of classes and the start of exams to do nothing but study. On the first night of reading period, I’d fallen asleep on my notebook when a bloodcurdling scream erupted from about 150 people on the quad in front of the library. In some weird throwback to the ’60s and ’70s, the students release exam stress by participating in a group “Primal Scream” at midnight each night. That’s a terrifying way to wake up, let me tell you. According to James, I sat bolt upright in my chair, screamed, and threw my highlighter in the air. When I was able to focus, there he was, standing in front of me, holding out my highlighter. He smiled and said, “Why don’t you let me walk you back to your dorm?” I wiped the drool off my chin, and the fairy tale began. (I’m kidding about it being a fairy tale!)

  Seriously, though, he lives in the boys’ dorm closest to mine. I’d seen him around, but I hadn’t talked to him before. On the way back to my dorm, he told me that he sees me running and asked if I’d like to run with him. I usually run by myself, but to be honest, the Public Safety Department and our resident advisors have been making me really nervous with all their warnings about not running around campus alone, so I accepted his invitation. Since then, we’ve run together almost every day. He’s very different from Walter. Instead of saying that I have a nice ass, James says that I have a beautiful stride. And even though he only sees me without makeup, sweaty, and red-faced, he still shows up at exactly 4:00 p.m. every day to stretch and go running.

  That’s pretty much been my life for the past two weeks. While you’ve been becoming a Rock Star, I’ve been studying, writing a paper, running with James, listening to Crush, and actually taking some exams.

  And I’m ready to be done with exams, but I can’t say that I’m ready to come home. I had to write a paper about “Duality in Frankenstein,” which can be summed up as “People have both good and evil in them.” Throw in a few quotes, rework that phrase about twenty times, and—voila!—you’ve got a five-page paper. It took me way too long to write it, though (I totally blew my PINK English periods on the schedule), because I couldn’t stop thinking about the “Duality in My Dad.” I’ve tried so hard to get through exams by not thinking about him and his pregnant hosebag, but having to write that paper made it impossible. I ended up wasting hours thinking about stuff like, How could he sit smiling at the family dinner table knowing that he’s having an affair with his secretary? How could he kiss me on the forehead every night after he’d slept with her? Why did he invite me to join them for dinner on Christmas Eve? I know you keep calling him a super-douche, but the truth is, he wasn’t always like this. He used to be a really good dad.

  I’m trying not to think about it because I still have to take my Biology exam, but the closer I get to Christmas break, the harder it is not to think about it. I even participated in the “Primal Scream” earlier tonight, and guess what? It was awesome. Okay, so maybe not quite as awesome as hearing a bar full of people sing along to your song, but still, kind of awesome. I’d scream again right now if I could, but Dorothy is asleep over there and she would totally throttle me. Has she told you about her new workout routine? She’s getting really strong. She and Jane and some of the other girls on the hall spend their BLUE periods doing Jane Fonda workout tapes. I run with James, they “Do Jane” (their phrase, not mine), we all eat dinner together when the Pit opens at 5:30, and then we scatter to our favorite studying spots. How can being a Rock Star beat that?

  All right, it’s really late, and Dorothy’s snoring is totally lulling me to sleep. I’ll see you soon. Let me know what to say to Dorothy. I’ll try to sneak a word in when she’s not making up lyrics to the new Michael Jackson album.

  Love,

  Cath

  P.S. Good luck at your next gig!

  P.P.S. Can you send us some of your Crush logo stickers? We’ll put them on our door and our backpacks, and before you know it, everyone will insist that you play at one of the events on campus.

  * * *

  AGEE’S MEN’S CLOTHING

  Where Men and Boys Shop

  EAST BLOOMFIELD, MARYLAND

  * * *

  December 14, 1982

  Cath—

  Here’s a tape from the show we did last night at the bowling alley. They did this thing called “Rock ’N’ Bowl Night” where they had us playing in the bar while people were still bowling. So if you hear any bowling pins getting knocked over in the background, that’s why.

  And if the suspense is killing you, I can end it for you before you even pop the tape in: yes, we TOTALLY ROCKED AGAIN!

  Scott

  * * *

  AGEE’S MEN’S CLOTHING

  Where Men and Boys Shop

  EAST BLOOMFIELD, MARYLAND

  * * *

  December 15, 1982

  Cath—

  Okay, our letters keep crossing in the mail. I just sent you a tape of our show from the bowling alley. Hopefully, you had a chance to listen to it already. We TOTALLY ROCKED, as I’m sure you’ll agree. Everyone seems to like to sing along to the chorus of “You Don’t Know Me.” And we played “Facial Tissues” live for the first time,
which is near the end of the tape (as you already know if you’ve had a chance to listen to it).

  “Have a Heart” is one of our own songs. I thought I sent you the lyrics before, didn’t I? Anyway, I kind of co-wrote it with Joe. I did the lyrics, and he worked with me on the music, particularly the guitar riff midway through the song (which I think he stole from the Stones, but who cares?) I have to admit that I’m pretty proud of the chorus: “If this thing between us is gonna start / The first thing is, you’d better have a heart.”

  I’m enclosing about a dozen Crush stickers for you and Jane. I am sending some to Dorothy separately. She mentioned to me that she might be coming to visit “you” over the Christmas break, which is completely cool with me. It would be great if you and she could come see us play at Duffy’s one Thursday night, but I do have to warn you that I’m not going to be able to take much time off work over the holidays, so you’re going to have to babysit her while she’s here. If that’s okay with you, great.

  Todd’s actually working out pretty well at the store. I wouldn’t be surprised if my dad wanted to hire him to work on weekends after the holiday season, although that might not happen if Todd doesn’t get a haircut soon. To quote my dad, “His hair’s longer than Lynda Carter’s.” (She’s the one who played Wonder Woman on TV. My dad has a crush on her.) Hopefully, it won’t be too awkward for you to see him. After the debacle with Samantha during the Thanksgiving party, I hope you’ll go out of your way to be nice to Todd and introduce him to your new boyfriend James. (Yes, James is your “boyfriend.” And, yes, saying you have a “beautiful stride” means he thinks you have a nice ass. It’s just like telling a girl you like her sweater or her blouse. That means you like her chest. In case you were wondering.)

 

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