took about four or five blows to finally make him stop. The three of us sat there disheveled and totally out of
breath. A few moments later, his mom started to cry
uncontrollably. Ronan broke the silence by saying he was taking
me home because he wanted to talk to his mom alone. As we pulled up to my house, I had never been so happy to
be home. But I was afraid for his mother. I hated walking out of
that car and leaving her alone with him. I hugged her goodbye
and said nothing to Ronan as I got out of the car.
I walked up my driveway and peeked through one of the
windows in the front of my house. My parents were watching
TV in the living room, so I decided to stay outside for a few
minutes to collect myself. My mind was racing, trying to
comprehend what had just transpired. I could never tell them
what happened, I couldn’t tell anyone. There was no reason to
anyway. I knew the moment I stepped out of that car that it was
over with Ronan.
A few days later, Jude and Sasha suggested we buy last
minute tickets to the L.A. Guns show at Irvine Meadows
Amphitheatre. I jumped at the idea and begged my parents for
the money to go. After the few hectic weeks I just had with
Ronan, a fun concert with the girls to blow off some steam was
exactly what I needed.
As part of a birthday gift from his parents, Jude’s younger
cousin, Jerry, had gotten concert tickets and limo transportation
to and from the L.A. Guns show. So being the cool older cousin
Jude was, she invited herself along with me and Sasha to mooch
in on the limo perks.
The night of the show, Lucy dumped me off at Jude’s right
when the limo arrived. I was the last to climb in along with Jude,
Sasha, Jerry, and his friend Cory. When I sat down, I noticed a
few unmarked glass bottles sitting on a little floor shelf. They
were all full so I assumed it was booze. I was surprised the driver
had left them there. Just as I was about to reach for one, the
driver opened up the divider between him and the rest of the
limo.
“I wasn’t told you kids were underage so hands off the
booze,” he said.
“Can we stop at a market at least? We wanna grab some
snacks,” I said.
“Of course,” he said and closed the divider.
“Great. What’s the point of having a limo if we can’t
drink?” Sasha asked.
“Oh don’t you worry, we’re drinking this booze,” I said. I grabbed the bottles of alcohol, pulled the top off each
one, and took a few sniffs like a bloodhound.
“Looks like we’ve got tequila, whisky, and this one is clear
so it’s probably vodka or gin,” I said matter of factly. “How do you know what everything is?” Jerry asked. “Because my family has a lot of barbecues and they drink
everything,” I said.
“So here’s the plan,” I continued. “We’ll refill the tequila
with apple juice, the whisky with a dark cola, and the clear one
with water.”
“Whisky doesn’t fizzle genius,” Jerry said.
“Who gives a shit? It’s so dark in here he’s not going to
notice anyway. Now everyone throw in a few bucks for the
chasers,” I said.
“You don’t think he’s gonna check when we go watch the
concert?” Jerry asked.
“The flasks will be full when we get to the show, and if he
does check who cares? He’s the one who’s gonna get into
trouble for leaving the bottles in here, not us,” I said. Over the next hour as we made our way to Irvine,
bottomless cocktails ensued in the limo. Despite our nosebleed seats, we were all drunk off our ass and had a great time at the show. On the way home our limo got a flat, so we used the breakdown as a photo shoot opportunity to commemorate the
night.
Going to the L.A. Guns show was the first time in months
I had fun. I was finally starting to feel like myself again, and my
feelings for Ronan were fading at a light speed rate.
Even though my fling with Justin was long over, the fact
that I had dared to date another guy completely set Ronan on
fire for us to get back together. He wanted to meet up again and
talk things out, but I lied and said I had finals to study for. The
truth was, I didn’t want to have “talks” or anything else with
Ronan. I didn’t want to deal with him in any capacity because I
was still so disgusted at the way he treated his mom. So I just
kept dodging his calls and making excuses, hoping that he would
get the hint and let our relationship fade into oblivion. Just my luck, Taz had a show coming up at The Roxy that
Ronan wanted to take me to, but I still hadn’t seen him since the
incident with his mom. I really wanted to see Taz because I’d
missed their last few shows, so I decided to play the curfew card
with Ronan to get out of going with him. I told him I’d catch a
ride from Lucy and just see him there so it wouldn’t interfere
with him going to the after party, a point which he certainly
couldn't argue with.
When I got to The Roxy that evening, I managed to avoid
Ronan a majority of the night. He always preferred to stand in
the back of the club to try and act cool, whereas I’d always go up
front to take pictures. In an attempt to keep him away from me,
I nestled myself right near the stage and in between the Taz
fatties. As soon as Taz finished their set, I darted out the side
door of The Roxy without saying goodbye to him. I ran through
the Rainbow parking lot and down to The Whisky where I had
Lucy and Tim pick me up.
5
WELCOME TO THE JUNGLE!
With my 16th birthday just a few exciting squeals away, I decided it was time for a fresh start. I wanted to leave everything that was negative in my life behind, and Ronan was the first thing on my list that absolutely HAD to go.
After going to the last Taz show at The Roxy, I realized I didn’t like them as much as I did before. I decided to stop going to their shows, which would also lessen my chances of seeing Ronan. I also busted my ass studying for my driving test, which paid off because I got my drivers license just a few days after my 16th birthday.
I felt I was on the right track in terms of getting my life together and wanted to share my sudden enlightenment with Brandon, who was still knee deep in drama with Grace. We had bonded over the school year, venting our relationship troubles to each other and expressing how miserable we both were. Now that the clouds were starting to part and I could see things clearly, I wanted to bring Brandon into the light with me.
Although I hadn’t made it official by telling Ronan to his face that we were broken up, I knew in my heart we were over. I had a long talk with Brandon and told him he should break up with Grace too. Neither of us had been happy in those relationships for months, and life was too short to be with people that made us miserable. We needed to be free!
A few days after my heart to heart with Brandon, he started acting strangely. He would barely talk to me in guitar class and started getting his own practice room rather than sharing one with me as we had done almost every day through the school year. While strolling through the halls at school one day, I noticed Brandon walking with Grace. She glared at me as they headed in my direction, and Brandon looked visibly uncomfortable. He didn’t say hi to
me. Hell, he refused to even make eye contact with me as they walked by.
Later that day, in guitar class, Brandon bolted to a rehearsal room by himself as he had been doing for the last week or so. This time I followed him in and asked what was wrong. He said nothing was wrong and everything was fine. After pressing him for a few minutes, I demanded to know what his problem was. It was then that he finally opened up and told me what was going on.
He said it wasn’t me and nothing I did, it was Grace. He said she hated that I was a close friend he could talk to, so she threatened him, or me I should say. According to Brandon, she told him she would beat the shit out of me if he didn’t stop being friends with me. With Grace being twice my size, he made the choice apparently for my own safety, as he had done with his old friend Jenny.
“This is EXACTLY why I’m dumping Ronan. It’s all about having control. You can’t let her do this!” I pleaded.
“I don’t want you to get hurt, it’s for the best anyway. I’m going to try and work it out with Grace,” he said sounding defeated.
“Are you out of your damn mind? You’re a bigger wacko than she is if you think it’s going to work out. Look at you, you’re miserable. We’ve been talking about breaking up with them for months.”
“It’s not that bad really,” he said as if trying to convince himself.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this. Is this what you really want?”
“You wanted to know what was going on, so now you know.”
“That’s not an answer.”
He looked up at me with these sad, puppy dog eyes and said nothing. I could tell by the look in his eyes he didn’t want this. I knew he didn’t want this.
“Yes, it’s what I want,” he said.
I stood there waiting for him to take it all back, but he didn’t. He started playing his guitar like I wasn’t even in the room, and our entire friendship flashed before my watery eyes.
“I can’t believe you’re throwing away our friendship because you’re too big of a pussy to stand up to her. You’re a fucking coward,” I said.
I grabbed my guitar and slammed the door behind me.
Weeks passed and nothing changed between Brandon and I. It wasn’t long until the last few weeks of the school year were upon us, and Brandon along with the rest of his fellow seniors prepared for graduation.
I felt bad about the fight I had with Brandon and wanted to make things copasetic between us before he graduated. So in a lame attempt to open up the doors of communication between us, I signed up at the Student Body office to send him a Gram for Graduation.
No not THAT type of Gram.
The Grams at my high school were basically a simple card with a Blow Pop sucker stuffed inside for the cost of $1. Students would buy them and send them to their classmates throughout the school year for different occasions like birthdays, Valentines Day, and graduation. I figured for a buck it was worth it if I could get another shot at getting through to Brandon.
After sending the Graduation Gram, I saw Brandon in guitar class during finals week. He walked in, sat a few seats away from me, and didn’t say a word to anyone. Once his name was called to do his test, he got up, played one minute of “Stairway to Heaven”, and asked the teacher if he could go to the bathroom. He left and never came back to class.
Later that day, I was walking with Arwen and Ariah through campus when I saw Grace coming down the hallway in my direction. She glared at me as she came my way, but that was nothing new. I continued on with my conversation because I was used to her giving me dirty looks. Grace had just passed us when all of a sudden she grabbed my arm and stopped me dead in my tracks.
“Why are you sending things to Brandon?” she snarled.
“I’m not sending THINGS to Brandon,” I said tearing my arm back.
“Yes you are. You sent him a Graduation Gram.”
“So what? I also sent grams to ten other seniors I’m friends with.”
“You’re only going to get yourself into trouble. HE DOESN’T LIKE YOU. He ripped up the Gram as soon as he got it. He only thinks of you as this dumb little girl who likes him and follows him around like a puppy dog,” she said venomously.
And just like that, my longstanding crush on Brandon turned into a crash. I didn’t know what to say to her, so I said nothing and continued glaring at her as she was doing to me.
“I bet he tells you that he doesn’t like me and how he wants to break up with me doesn’t he?” she continued.
“I haven’t really talked to Brandon lately, so I don’t know what he does or doesn’t like,” I said calmly.
“Oh really? That’s not what I heard.”
It was then that I realized how much Brandon truly cared about me because if I were some annoying little shit to him as she claimed, she wouldn’t even waste her time with me. We were very close, and that’s why she had a wild hair up her ass. So much so that she just had to walk up and say something to me about it.
As Grace and I continued to stare each other down, Ariah started purring like a kitten. Her purrs turned into a howling cat, and she started making clawing gestures at Grace. Arwen joined in, and I couldn’t help but laugh my ass off. Grace shot them a dirty look and walked off.
Speaking of psycho’s, I had my own to contend with since I was still doing the avoiding dance with Ronan. He kept nagging me about having that “talk” and suggested we grab dinner over the weekend, but I wasn’t ready to deal with any of that heavy shit. That was the first weekend my dad was lending me his truck since getting my drivers license, and the last thing I wanted to do was commemorate my first unsupervised drive by going to see Ronan.
Just like clockwork, Ronan called me that Saturday night as I was getting ready and asked if we could meet up. I told him I was home sick for the weekend, let out a few fake sneezes, then hung up with him and left to pick up Dagmar and Sasha. We planned on going to a friend’s birthday party in Arcadia, about fifteen minutes up the street from me.
When I turned down the street to our friend’s house, I noticed three cop cars parked out front and people leaving the house. I was pissed. I had a car, a brand new drivers license, and it was a Saturday night. There was no way in hell I was going home.
Some friends walked up to the truck and told us they were going to our friend Frankie’s house to have some drinks. Nothing about that sounded fun to me. I had been to Frankie’s house a million times before. I wanted to do something a little more exciting since I had a car at my disposal.
“I don’t really feel like going over there. I want to do something different,” I said. Dagmar wanted to go to Frankie’s, so she hopped out of my dad’s truck and took off with our friends as they continued walking down the street.
“Why don't we go to The Strip?” Sasha asked.
“Yeah right,” I said.
“Why not?”
“Um, I don't know. I have no idea why I said that.” “You’re a licensed driver, aren’t you?”
Sasha was right. There was no reason we couldn't go. I had
never driven that far away from home before though, not by myself anyway. But technically, I wouldn't be alone because Sasha would be with me. Of course it's not normal rationale, but in our 16-year-old minds it made perfect sense. So we hopped on the 101 freeway and made our way out to Hollywood.
As we turned the corner of Sunset Blvd and approached The Whisky A Go-Go, it looked like a building evacuation had taken place. A blanket of people covered the entire sidewalk, so much so that people were spilling into the streets. It was like a freak show. Spiked hair, colored hair, no hair, leather and spandex clothing or very little clothing, and this circus continued as we drove up Sunset, just past a club called Gazzarri’s.
SKITZ( TheGlamourPunks):Therewillneverbeanothertimein history that resembles Hollywood in that era. I can't speak for everyone whowas there (becausenoteveryonehaditsogood),butmy experience was AWESOME. I don't have to sit around and wonder what it would be like to be a rock star because
I lived it. Anything I needed was given to me.Inever had cash in my pocket and it didn't matter because everything was free. I had a bag with all of my belongings,alongwith myguitarandamp.Whereverthatstuffwas, is where Iwas livingat the time.Ihadmylittle clique andnothingelse really mattered. We looked out for each other. It was non-stop adventure tothe point that it reallystartedtocloudmythinkingand madeiteasy for me toget side tracked.There'sjustnoway tofully explain how crazy it was. I've tried to explain it to people and they just think I'm making shit up. If you weren't there you wouldn’t be able to comprehend the madness. Sometimes I question it myself. Did that REALLYhappen?
SUNNY PHILLIPS (Swingin Thing): The scene was great back then because people were coming from all over the country and all overtheworld to thisoneplaceforonepurpose,tocreate music and trytomake it big.
JOEL PATTERSON ( Blackboard Jungle): The most fun times we had back then were when we hung out with Kim Fowley early on. We’d always go to dinner with him at Ben Franks or Rock and Roll Denny’s and that was always an adventure because he was such a personality.
Neither of us had money for parking. After driving around for a few minutes, we finally found free parking down the hill on Cynthia Avenue, a residential Beverly Hills street just off Doheny Blvd.
A few minutes later, as we huffed and puffed our way up Doheny, we finally reached Sunset Blvd. We walked past Gazzarri’s, and our empty hands were instant magnets as various musicians bombarded us with their show flyers from every direction. It was a scene I was somewhat familiar with from going to all the Taz shows, but I had never gotten a chance to really hang out on The Strip before. I was usually bolting through the crowd in a mad rush to make my curfew.
I listened in on a few random conversations as we walked down Sunset Blvd. The street was like a sick and twisted networking session. Band members shook hands and kissed babies, schmoozing underage and overage girls into going to see their band play, in the hopes of moving up the show ladder to the coveted headlining slot. Gone were the days of walking into a club and just being able to play. The clubs wanted bands that had a guaranteed draw, not a borage of crickets and tumbleweeds. Unless you were able to pack a club, which few strip bands were able to do, the club promoters would require bands to sell pre-sale tickets, thus coining the term “pay to play”.
Rock and Roll High School: Growing Up in Hollywood During the Decade of Decadence Page 8
