When I was only two years old
My family went on a vacation
To Yellowstone National Park

That’s where I uttered my first word-“bear”

I have an image in my mind,
Where, surrounded by pine trees,
I’m looking down towards a lake

This is the first image I can recall from my childhood
And yet it’s a haunting one

There’s nothing definitive about it,
It’s not like there’s a demon in the picture
But the woods were quite spooky
And it seems as though there were
Malevolent spiritual forces there

It’s just scary that at such an early age
The forces of evil were already influencing me

The woods would always have an influence upon my soul
Or I should say the spirits that were out there

When I was twelve or thereabouts
I went on a Boy Scout camping trip
To the Desolation Wilderness

The first day was brutal,
We were loaded down with heavy packs
And it was all uphill
But when we finally reached the summit
We were greeted with a spectacular vista
Of endless pine trees stretching to a snow-capped peak

Just then a demon appeared to me
And with a wave of his hand, he said
“All this that you see,
this is all my realm”
I’ll have to admit that I was quite impressed

Left to my own devices
And without a moral compass
I was unsure of what was good
And what was evil

In later years,
Heavily influenced by psychedelic drugs
I’d dance around while wearing a deer’s head
Doing the wild thing in the deep of the woods

The pivotal moment for me though,
Came in November of 1986

Though I hailed from a posh suburb
I was trying to enjoy a hippie lifestyle

Society wasn’t too fond of that
And there were many conflicts
So much so that I started wearing
A sheathed knife on my belt

Anyhow, I woke up one morning
In my brother’s station wagon where I’d been sleeping
And since it was a hot summer day
I wore nothing but some cut-off shorts
And of course my knife

I was supposed to meet my girlfriend
In front of the cathedral
Where I had been an alter boy
But she was running late

So there I was,
A bearded, long-haired dude
Hanging out near St Catherine’s
While the people filed into church

For a long time I had wanted
To revisit the church of my youth
For nostalgic purposes at least
But I had always been scared away
Figuring that I wasn’t respectable enough

But on that fateful day,
The attitudes of some of the parishioners
As they filed past me
Was too much for me to bear

Didn’t these people pray to a God
Who taught not to judge by physical appearances?

When I had had enough, I said the heck with it
And went inside

Near the end of the service,
After everyone else had already filed past
I walked down the aisle headed for the priest
And my holy communion

This was my first mistake
I wasn’t even a Christian
To me, Jesus had been a laid-back guy
Who preached non-violence
A far cry from an all-powerful God
Who had created the entire universe

There was nothing humble about me
As I strode down the aisle
I was arrogant and cocky
Although in my defense,
At that time in my life
I practically had to be in order to survive

The priest was furious
“You can’t come in here looking like that”

“I think I look like the guy on the wall behind you” I replied

As the argument went on and on
The innocent looking altar boy
Kept looking back and forth at us
Unsure of who it was that he should believe

Finally, just to get me on my way
The priest gave me the communion wafer

Then, as I exited the church,
Jesus Christ appeared to me

Now, at that time in my life
I was sure that my days were numbered
And that I would soon die in the gutter
A victim of violence

Jesus Christ asked me
“Would you be willing to go peacefully like I did”

As I said before,
I didn’t know that he was all-powerful
And that he would be with me
Every step of the way
And that perhaps my death would serve a purpose
So naturally I replied “No way”
And just like that he disappeared
And the whole experience was wiped from my memory

For precisely seven years afterwards
My soul went through a downward spiral,
Every sin which I committed
Causing me to be brought down further
My life becoming more empty and evil

Then, in November of ‘93
I had a dream in which I saw the Lord enthroned
Upon Half Dome

                                  THE  CONFESSIONS

                           AND APOCALPTIC VISIONS
   
                         OF AN AMERICAN WEREWOLF
     
                                  FROM SAN MATEO

                        Copyright 2004 by Johnny Blade
 

I won’t bore you
By dwelling long on my childhood
There isn’t much to say

I grew up about twenty miles south of San Francisco
Right where Burlingame, San Mateo and Hillsborough all meet

I was raised by loving parents
In a house so big
It could have been called a castle

It was so full of books
It could also have been called
A small library

My mother always made sure
That there was plenty to read

My favorites were the history books

I loved reading about Alexander the Great,
Ferdinand Magellan, Marco Polo
As well as the other explorers
Their adventures appeared larger than life

There were creeks near my house
Which were fun to explore
I’d pretend that I was living two hundred years ago in the past
And that I was viewing this land for the first time
When all that existed on the peninsula
Was nature
With only a scattering of natives

I had an adventurous early childhood
Life was fun when there were plenty of kids to play tag
Or hide and seek with

Unfortunately, those days ended far too quickly

Part of my problem was that I was going to the wrong school
Many of the kids at St Catherine’s, where I  was enrolled
Were in too much of a hurry to grow up

Far too soon in life
They decided that playing children’s games was ‘kid’s stuff’
And that they were too grown up for it

Many of these youngsters
Had ultra-strict parents
Who expected their children
To behave in a manner
That befitted young adults
Of their upscale social class

The bottom line
Is that many of these kids
Became quite boring
And as a result,
I became something of a loner

Then I met Bob,
He was always full of wisecracks

The catholic school I went to
Was rather tame
And I don’t have any horror stories
But if it had been stricter
Bobby no doubt would have been
One of the ones getting it with the ruler
-And probably deservedly so

I shared my first beer with Bobby
And I was with him
When I ran across my first playboys

We’d been exploring around in the basement
When we came across someone’s  stash
I was sheltered and didn’t know a thing about sex
But my friend Bob filled me in
On all the details

I guess you could say he corrupted me
Telling me all about ‘Farrah’s faucet’
And the disgrace to which Linda Lovelace leant her face

But in my pre-pubescence
Sex wasn’t hardly as tempting
As fantasizing about war was

I just couldn’t get enough of it;  
Playing with army men,
Watching John Wayne movies,
Imagining the thrill of combat;
It’s pretty sad, but fantasizing about war
Was one of the only cures for my boredom

Life improved when I switched to a different school
The crowd at McKinley  was more lively

There was Buddy, and Doug, and Jamie
Who would eventually rule Washington Park

And there was Shawn, who, on Halloween
Would dress up like Ace Freeley from the band ‘Kiss’

In short,
Though this crowd was a bit rougher
They were definitely more rock and roll

Of course, no history of my childhood would be complete
Without a mention of Boy Scouts

Cub Scouts and Webelos had been fun experiences
But they paled in comparison with the real thing

Troop 10 tried to recruit me first
They showed me an interesting film
Which some of their scouts had made
Which included a really cool scene
Of a guy getting chased while he’s on a bicycle

He’s atop one of the cliffs at Coyote Point
And in the next scene, he’s supposedly dead
After falling sixty feet or so

I was impressed, but the troop seemed too militaristic to me
And I chose to join Troop 28 instead

It turned out to be a good choice
Even though the first campout was a nightmare
The older boys were absolutely merciless to us newcomers
On that Santa Rosa trip

They were strait up pelting us with rocks.
I’m not sure whether or not
Some of these boys got kicked out or not,
But fortunately there was a changing of the guard
And most of these bullies were soon gone

On another trip, we were on our way to Big Basin
When one of the vehicles overheated.
Fortunately it didn’t conk out until the gas station at Sky Londa
Across from Alice’s Restaurant

Naturally we got pretty bored
While we were waiting around for the car’s engine to cool down

That’s when somebody got the bright idea
To make off with a tire and roll it down the hill

As if that wasn’t bad enough,
Nobody had bothered to scout ahead
And so we didn’t know that the tire was headed strait for the highway
As it was winding it’s way up the mountain

Sure enough, as it flew off the embankment,
It landed strait on the hood of a car

Even though we were running uphill,
I’m sure we set some speed records as we fled that scene

That trip was a three day backpacking excursion.
The first day was pretty hard, mostly uphill
But the last day became a race for the ocean

Coincidently, on the very day we reached the beach
The authorities were unearthing the body
Of the latest of the trailside stranglers victims
One of the crimes for which David Carpenter is now serving a life sentence

Once a year, a jamboree was held at Huddard Park above Woodside.
It was an event in which the different troops competed against each other
In such skills as rope tying, plant identification, first aid and so on

It sure was a lot of fun
It was quite an experience to camp under the redwoods
Even as a kid, I could sense that they had an intelligence
Which, though different than our own, was nevertheless impressive

We also went to Camp Cutter in the Santa Cruz mountains

There was one boy there who was from another troop
Who needed medication or else he’d go into spastic fits.
I guess he had skipped his dose one day
Because he was thrashing about like a wild animal

Three boys from his troop were trying to restrain him, but without any success.
It was like he was on PCP and had superhuman strength

The camp was a lot of fun in spite of that frightening episode

There were canoes which you could take out onto the lake.
I made the mistake of taking one out with Bobby though
And the darned fool stood up
And started rocking the canoe back and forth

I tried to warn him to knock it off, but he wouldn’t listen
And in no time he ended up capsizing us
Fortunately at least we were in shallow water when it happened

Camp Cutter had a nice-sized pool
But somebody came up with the idea
That we should all go skinny dipping

Now skinny dipping can be fun
But not when you’re an insecure kid who feels forced into it

It kinda ruined what should have been a nice dip in the pool

By far the best trip we went on though,
Was a week-long backpacking adventure in Desolation Wilderness

I already mentioned the first day,
Of how it was a brutal uphill climb
And of how a demon appeared to tempt me

The rest of the trip was far easier.
I had time to climb three separate mountains
With Mike, who was quite a daredevil

This was not long after the movie “Jaws” first came out
And some of the boys were too terrified
Even to swim in the fresh water lakes

There was this other movie called “Prophecy”
About a deformed, mutant, mercury poisoned creature
Mauling people in the woods

Though it was cheesy, it had scared me speechless back then.
Needless to say I huddled close to the campfires
Terrified of the woods at night

We had a view of Lake Tahoe as we crossed the divide
But poor Eric barely made it out
Suffering as he was from altitude sickness

It was so bad, the Scout Masters were afraid
They’d have to call for a helicopter

The irony was that he was by far
The biggest and the strongest of the scouts.
Not at a high altitude though

Getting back to my schooling,
Burlingame intermediate was also a fun experience.
For the first time, we’d have a different teacher for every subject
So if you didn’t like your teacher
You’d only have to put up with them for fifty minutes

Most of my teachers were very good, however,
I especially liked my science teacher
Though shamefully, I can’t recall his name

A most disturbing phenomenon occurred here, however;
Instead of playing during lunch and recess, as in past years,
Most of the kids would just stand around talking

I wasn’t keen on socializing.
The truth is, at my young age
I didn’t have much to say

I preferred to play football with the nerds instead

I have to give credit to Tom,
He had a couple of older brothers and was pretty hip
He was the one who inspired me to go to the school dances

Mostly I  just stood around
Too shy to ask anyone to dance
I had had a crush on the Smith sisters,
But then who didn’t- they were gorgeous
But not very approachable

I finally summoned up the courage
And asked Maria Escramelia for a dance.
To my delight, she seemed pleased to have been asked
And we shared a slow, romantic waltz
To the tune of  “put your head on my shoulders”

Unfortunately, not much else came of it
And she never even signed my yearbook

Like I mentioned earlier, I was really into football.
The late seventies was a golden age for the NFL

Although the dreaded Steelers would win their Super Bowls
They were epic, hard-fought battles

Roger Staubach appeared heroic
The way he led his underdog Cowboys
Almost to the brink of victory

The Rams also gave the Steelers one hell of a dogfight

Inspired by such dramatic contests,
I began dreaming of football stardom myself.
I viewed it as a ticket out of my mediocre existence.
I wanted to soar like Lynn Swann,
Glide through the line like Marcus Allen

Not exactly realistic dreams-
Considering that I was a ninety pound weakling  with only average speed
But for years I was fed on such fantasies

I began lifting weights and I ran every morning
I even ponied up some money
And flew down to a football camp in Los Angeles

It was a great experience, but it wasn’t easy
We had four practices a day, two of them in pads

I had the pleasure of playing Pop Warner with Greg Jeffries
Another Serra high school star who would go on to play pro baseball

He was the quarterback,
His dad was the coach
And their San Bruno Rams team
Won their games by an average
Of over forty points each

Unfortunately I left the team
So that I could play high school ball
Where I hardly got on the field at all
Due to my small size

One of the saddest moments of my young life
Occurred in my sophomore year
When the coach told me that I wouldn’t be able to play;
That he didn’t want to take the chance of my getting hurt
Playing with the big boys

It broke my heart
But at least I had a remedy
Which nullified the pain

Marijuana

After I left the team
And gave up on my football dreams
I delved deeply into drugs

We smoked weed from Thailand
Which was so strong
I’m not sure it wasn’t opiated

The KGB(Killer Green Bud) we smoked
Was every bit as strong
As what’s going around today

The only difference being that back then,
It sold at one third the price that it goes for now

I soon forgot about my dreams of football stardom
And embarked on many new adventures instead

We’d smoke out by the golf course
Or venture up to Crocker Lake
Where there’d be miles of trails through the wilderness

All of Hillsborough seemed to be a forest waiting to be explored

Crocker School, Spencer Lake, Strawberry Hill;
We explored it all on psychedelics
Taking plenty of mushrooms and many tablets of mescaline along the way

We’d get high and hang out at the golf course
Where it appeared the roots of the Eucalyptus trees
Were grasping onto the earth with all their might
So that they wouldn’t fly off into space

Once we were almost busted as a lady golfer began scolding us
“you can’t be up here. You don’t belong.”

In spite of the seriousness of the situation
We could only laugh at her angry face as it melted
We were so high

Another time I was so stoned
It felt as though my head was an empty vacuum
And that all the air in the room was rushing into it at a top speed

I thought I had gone blind
Because my eyelids were closed
And I hadn’t the strength to open them

It seemed as if my friend just magically appeared
Whenever he came and went from the room

It wasn’t even top-notch weed that we had smoked
It was just a matter of us having smoked so much of it

Besides the psychedelic drugs
We were also influenced by some of the music from the sixties and seventies

Jimi Hendrix, Yes, Rush and Black Sabbath
Were among our favorite bands

I was blown away when I went to my first concert
Which was an Ozzy Ozbourne show at the Oakland Coliseum

I was a little intimidated by the crowd
Because I had never before seen so many cool looking people

Even though I was wearing a radical “Diary of a Madman” t-shirt
I felt nerdish with my short hair

The concert was held not long after Randy Rhoads had died
But amazingly, Brad Gillis did a decent job of filling in

The music was superb,
And the laser show fantastic
But it was the supernatural element of the show
Which was most profound

When the lights were dimmed
And the haunting chorus began,
And the pinpoints of laser lights
Grew to be bats flying towards me

And a bunch of fools near us lit a cross on fire
Nearly burning themselves in the process
I was experiencing the opening of  a porthole
Into a darker world

The lights came on briefly,
Revealing an empty throne
Then went off again

Next, the stage opened up
And out came Ozzy
As a laser cannonball shot out behind him

I missed a lot of good concerts in the early eighties
(Journey, Rainbow, Blue Oyster Cult, and Judas Priest
were all touring at the time),
But I didn’t miss all of them

Ozzy’s show was no doubt one of the best
What’s more- the price of admission was only $10!!
Later that year I saw Iron Maiden with the Scorpions for only 12!!
My have times changed!!

I also saw Yes and Rush in 1984
But I’m still kicking myself for all the good shows I missed
The Rolling Stones and The Who in 1982,
And Black Sabbath with Ronnie James Dio at the helm

We experienced a lot of good highs
But without a doubt some of them were wasted

I had landed a job at Marine World, back when it was in Foster City
Working the arcade games where people would try to win prizes

Like a fool I’d get stoned before work
Which only slowed down the clock and made the hours drag by

Once when we had taken mescaline, my buddy Mitch’s parents were gone
Leaving us free to jump off the roof into the swimming pool

It was one of the most fun things I had ever done
But then Mitch had to ruin it by dragging us all to the bike shop
So that he could run an errand

But the biggest waste of all were the afternoons we’d spend
Vegetating in front of the MTV

We’d keep hoping and praying that the next video
Would be from Iron Maiden, Judas Priest, or the Scorpions
But inevitably it’d be another Madonna or Huey Lewis fiasco

The bottom line
Is that we smoked and dosed a bit too much
And our bodies developed a tolerance

As far as peer pressure was concerned
There was plenty of it

Many of the strait kids saw nothing wrong
With driving to keggar parties
And then driving away drunk

Meanwhile, me and my buddies would get stoned
And ride our bicycles.
Now tell me- who was it that was living dangerously?

My poor mother believed the anti-drug hysteria espoused by Nancy Reagan
And would chase me around in her blue Caprice

But she couldn’t stop me from something I loved,
Something which was a part of my life

When she grounded me
I simply ran away from home

As far as Mrs. Reagan was concerned;
She might have cried a bucketful of tears for “her children”
But me and my buddies weren’t her kids
She seemed like the type of Hillsborough b*tch
Who would have only sneered at us for not being upscale enough

I’m not sure what the long-term effects were
Of the drugs which I was taking
But in the short-term
They sure didn’t affect my schooling

In my junior year of high school
I pulled down not just a strait A average
But even better- a 4.07 gpa

The problem was that by taking advanced courses
I found myself immersed in classes
Which abounded with strait kids

They made school miserable for me
Transforming high school into hell school

I was labeled a stoner
And quickly became an outcast
And the butt of many jokes

I can’t count the number of times
I was hit on the back of the head with spitwads
Or was tripped up as I walked down the hallway.

Once an a-hole even peeled out on me
Splattering me with mud

At least I was able to escape during lunchtime
Out to the grass fields
Where the other stoners hung out

We’d smoke out every single day
And why not?
I had history right after lunch
And I had to be stoned for that class,
It was my favorite

American history is so dynamic.
It’s really incredible,
All the changes which have occurred here
In such a relatively short amount of time

I especially liked learning about the American Revolution.
Eventually I wrote an epic poem
Which I hoped would capture
Some of the drama of that struggle;

           
 1776

All was chaos and great loss
No orderly retreat was this
But the worst sort of rout

Officers shouting, pleading
Attempting to restore order,
Were quite literally run over

This was nothing less than a stampede
Not even the wide stream up ahead
Could impede the frenzied mob
Which plunged headlong
Into the frigid water

Rifles were held aloft by some,
But discarded shamefully by others

Men who tripped were soon smothered
Under the trampling, frantic feet

The wretched stench of defeat
Did more than merely linger,
Penetrating to my very core

As I paused above a rocky outcrop
Already I could see
The drifting of not yet bloated bodies
As they journeyed out to sea

The muddied stream wore a shade of crimson
And scattered about it’s shore
Were heaps of flesh
Which till recently had been human

The entire scene did reek of ruin
Yet what most dismayed my sight
Were the scattered packs and discarded muskets
Where had gone the spirit of our fight?

Was it only just a dream
Or had we not indeed defied
At least for a short time
The might of a far off king?

Only this morning we had stood united,
Side by side,
Our battle lines as stern and rigid
As our resolve

We had faced horrendous odds
The greatest force Great Britain had ever sent abroad

All throughout early august
Their ships were dropping anchor
Till at last their bare masts
So filled up the harbor
They resembled an entire forest
Of trimmed pine trees
And every man of war
Was a floating battery

Through their telescopic sights
Our officers were doubtless sent a shudder
By the mere numbers of disembarking troops

It appeared Staten Island would surely sink
Beneath it’s weight, they were so many

No doubt the teeming slums of London
Had been all but striped bare
Of able bodied, yet idle men
Ole King George had found a use for them

Rumor was, he’d even gone and hired Hessians
Mercenaries all the way from Germany!!
Such a crime could scarcely be believed
Yet how else could we account
For such a force upon our shores

We had thought ourselves blessed
Back when we had severed our ties
That the might of an ocean
Between us and England did lie

Yet they had weathered the Atlantic
With the most impressive army
Ever to set foot upon the continent

To and fro, each and every day
Did their splendid regiments parade
Displaying, for all of us to see
Their clear superiority

They wheeled about
With a precision
Which could only be weaned
Through endless drill
And the harshest forms of discipline

Why our enemy
Appeared more akin to machines than men!!

All throughout the summer
We had waited for them
With ten thousand souls
Here on Long Island’s soil
A similar number
Just across the East River in Manhattan
Where with our shovels and spades
We’d transformed New York
Into a city bristling with barricades

We were in dire need of such entrenchments
For besides cannon captured earlier in the war
We were armed only
With the wide variety of weapons
Which the men had brought with them

Brown Besses, Blunderbusses, Fowling pieces
And even an occasional rifle
Which, with it’s grooved barrel
Was capable of sending a bullet
A full two hundred yards accurately

With our musketry of such a wide variety
Our quartermasters faced a difficult chore
In keeping us supplied with ammunition

Fortunately our good citizens were all too eager
To donate items which could be melted down

The statue of King George upon his horse
Would alone provide sixteen-thousand rounds

An even more pressing problem
Than that of our weapons
Concerned the quality of the men

We hailed from every colony except Canada
Fathers straggling in with their sons
Or whole towns coming out in unison

A Virginian, George Washington,
Only nominally held command
For we were sorely untrained, ill supplied
And mostly only recently arrived
Our numbers always fluctuating
For men were free to leave at their own discretion

Farmers mostly, they’d drift in from the countryside
Only to vanish again come harvest time

Could these men, as yet untrained
Be counted upon to stand their ground
Once the battle was joined?

Or would their self-preserving instincts
Prove to be unmastered?
Were we headed for a disaster?

In and about the campfires
There were braggarts, full of bluster
Yet these men hadn’t yet seen battle
Would they still be so brave
When facing bayonets?

Certainly today they had failed their test
Though it must be said in the men’s defense
The British had struck where they were least expected

Though our front line was well protected,
Strung out though it was
Along the long stretch
Of Long Island’s heights

General Howe took us by surprise
Sending his men on a long flanking march this morning   
Over an unguarded ford
And through an empty wood

Our extreme left flank was struck suddenly
And with all our guns facing the wrong way

It’s only to be expected then
That our raw troops became confused and panicked

Yet why were there no pickets?

Yet whoever is to blame
The truth remains
That we are no longer an army,
But instead a rabble
Being driven forward like a herd of cattle
And this after our first battle!!

Shamefully I could only wade the stream
With the rest of the stragglers
After all, it was a far better cry
Than being captured
Yet, though I was forced to swallow my pride,
I deeply seethed inside

Closing my eyes,
I softly cried
For assuredly on this most accursed day
Had our most glorious cause died

Our retreat was most discouraging
And we no doubt made a most pathetic sight
Yet we were safe once we reached the Brooklyn Heights

There we were joined by reserves
Who were well entrenched and rested

There was a brief moment of apprehension
When the redcoats
Reformed, and marching in cadence
Greatly shortened the distance
Between themselves and us

But alas,
It proved not a real thrust
But merely a feign,
A showy display

They then wheeled smartly about
And left us the day

Their coup de grace
Would apparently wait until entrenchments,
Creeping steadily closer
Would enable their artillery
To be brought fearlessly into range

We’d then be blown to bits
And our cause along with it

Sir William Howe had decided
Upon a most conservative plan of attack
Yet with the East River at our backs
We were still hopelessly trapped
Upon a most tiny strip of land

Clearly we now face annihilation

And yet how ironic
That it’s been just a mere two months
Since that most festive day
When our declaration
Was first ratified by the delegates

Jefferson’s emboldened statement
Concerning the rights of men
So eloquently put to the pen

Church bells peeled
Raucous crowds cheering
In all the town squares

Despite the sweltering heat
The streets were wild and alive
With hopes and dreams

Yet did we really believe
That we could somehow break free
From that wicked tyrant across the sea?

The naysayers were all too quick to point out
Just how heavily the odds were stacked
In his Majesty’s favor

Foolishly, we simply brushed them off as traitors

Yet here we are
Just a mere two months later
Heavily outnumbered
And with our backs to the river
Waiting for a sledgehammer blow to be delivered

We have but one small comfort;
To our credit
Though we hail from separate colonies
We shall surely hang together
Our common cause indeed has brought us closer

Mostly our men are from Jersey,
New York or New England
Yet I’ve met many a Virginian

Strange men, these southerners
Yet they’ve traveled so far
And are quite brave

Initially, we shared diseases
More than pleasantries
Yet that’s begun to change

Our shared dream of freedom,
Alike experiences and sufferings
Have served to ease tensions
Between the men

Perhaps one day
We indeed might have become
A nation united

Governed by ourselves
And not the petty whims
And harsh decrees
Of a far off king

 Ahh, to dream of what might have been!!

As it stands,
I can no longer imagine
Such happenings

Although I keep my lips pursed,
Lest be denounced as defeatist,
Or worse yet a traitor
Still I pray that our leaders
Do seriously consider
The King’s olive branch petition

It may indeed be our last hope
For reconciliation

With shame and great sorrow
I eyed our proud banner
Whipping about fiercely in the breeze

White, red and blue
Her colors flew
Just like the Union Jack

But with horizontal bars
And a circle of thirteen stars
One for every colony but Canada
Which chose to side with the mother country

My, she was pretty
Yet though resplendent,
She was as yet untested
And so very recently sown

Why, our entire nation
Was not yet two months old!!

Such a shame
That so very soon
She may be driven down
For the last time

I closed my eyes and cried
For surely on this most accursed day
Had our most glorious cause died

With our entrenchments already dug
There was little else to distract me
From increasingly somber thoughts
My heart sinking ever further into despair

Damn the congress for their having demanded
That New York had to be defended

The city was astir with tories
Who would only be too happy
To welcome a British presence

But worse yet
It rested on the southern tip of an island
Which was adrift in a British sea

I mentioned before just how numerous
Were the ships of the enemy
Which could so easily sail
Up either the East or the Hudson rivers

We had submerged a few rusting hulks
And had laid steel cables
Yet to no avail
Our enemy still ruled the waterways

That is until a thick fog
Descended fortuitously

Washington, without hesitation
Issued orders for a evacuation

Campfires were kept lit
Though they were manned thinly
As our entire army
Throughout a long and restless night
Was ferried to the relative safety
Of Manhattan’s shore

In later years
I would learn just how precipitous
Was our dire predicament
On that nervous, near endless night

Apparently,
While we were busy straining
Against the broad river
A tory woman, loyal to the crown
Had sent one of her slaves
To deliver the alarming news
Of our attempted escape

Had he not stumbled across Hessians
Who understood not what he was saying
Our enterprise would have been quite literally sunk

Instead we were able to steal away
Perhaps to fight another day?

As I boarded one of the last boats
Just an hour before the revealing light of dawn ascended
I was awarded the most amazing sight
Of our commander in chief
Large in stature as well as measure
As he directed our rearguard
From astride his white horse
Washington was one of the very last to leave

Though we had been granted a reprieve
We were still in a bind
At the southern tip of Manhattan

Clearly New York would have to be abandoned
Yet still we dallied
As if we were capable of defending her

When we finally began to withdraw to the north
It was very nearly too late

Grenadiers stormed ashore at Kip’s Bay
A point midway up the island

The mere sight of the bright sun
Glinting so fiercely off their bayonets
Was more than enough to knot our bellies
And turn the supposed backbone
Of our shoreline
 to so much jelly

Washington, who was at the scene  exclaimed
‘Are these the men
 with whom we are to defend America!!’

Incredulous,
He lashed out with his riding crop
At the men rushing past him
Yet to no avail
They still turned tail

Thoroughly dispirited,
He hung his head
Slouching in the saddle

The redcoats were already within musket range
When he was saved by a quick-thinking aide
Who pulled hard on his horses’ reins
To spirit the animal away

Had the redcoats marched swiftly
They could have then cut off our rearguard-
Henry Knox bringing up the artillery

Instead,
In the woods which would one day form Central Park
They shamefully stopped for tea!!
Only thus were four thousand men
And all our cannon spared

British laziness
(Or was it overconfidence?)
Had cost them yet another chance
To trap us near the sea

Yet no war has ever been won
Merely through great escapes

Our retreat, however miraculous,
Still reeked of defeat to the men
Who by now were most discouraged

Surprising it was then,
That we found our courage
At Harlem Heights
Where a skirmish was fed
Until it became a stiff fight
The queens own Black Watch
Was sent reeling in flight

Though it was but a small victory
It was one savored by the men
Who had little else to cheer

We’d built a pair of forts,
Washington and Lee,
To guard the Hudson
But the British defied their guns
And sailed at will
Up and down the river

Fort Washington,
In upper manhattan
Should thus have been abandoned
Yet into it’s inadequate defenses
We poured twenty-four hundred men
And far too many of our precious cannon

Some filthy Tory spy
Must have supplied Lord Howe
With the blueprints for it’s defenses
For his attack, when it came, was well planned

Simultaneous amphibious operations
Were launched against her north, east and southern sides

Many a mercenary german died
Assaulting the southern slope
For it was very steep

But our men couldn’t keep up their murderous fire
As their rifles soon were clogged
They’d been designed for hunting, not combat
And soon their barrels were too hot

The redcoats had an easier time
Though still over a hundred and fifty of them died

Yet with fifteen thousand of the enemy
Taking part in the assault
The end result was inevitable

As the enemy closed in,
Our men crowded together like cows
In a slaughtering pen,
Had no option but surrender
And thus were our comrades
Forced to stack their arms

The Germans,
Who had suffered greatly during the assault
Unleashed their anger on the prisoners

Many of them were stripped half-bare
And this in the frigid cold of late November

The poor souls were marched ignominiously
Back to New York
Where churches or the rotting hulks of ships
Would house them

Unfortunately, I haven’t yet finished this epic poem
But I can tell you how the story ends;

Washington and his men were chased
All the way across New Jersey
By Lord Cornwallis

Unlike General Howe, who moved slowly,
Continually allowing the Americans to escape
Lord Cornwallis, just like General Patton two centuries later
Believed in crushing the enemy swiftly

It was, therefore, a very desperate chase
And a very near thing
But Washington and his men were safe
Once  they crossed the Delaware River

Still, they were in a bad way;
Morale, already low,
Plummeted with the onslaught of winter
And many enlistments were due to expire at the end of the year

Even worse, Washington was being undermined
By Major Charles Lee
The second in command
Of the Continental Army

Figuring the war was all but won,
The British and their German allies
Settled down in their New Jersey garrisons

It was on Christmas eve
When Washington recrossed  the Delaware
And attacked Trenton,
Taking a thousand prisoners and the town
At the loss of only four men

Although the war would drag on
For another seven years,
It was this turn of events
Which gave the revolutionaries
The hope which sustained them
Through the difficult times ahead

Anyhow, I think you can see why it was
That history was my favorite class

I find it sad that so few people
Who call themselves Americans
Even know how it was that their country was founded

Needless to say I aced my history class
Scoring 197 out of a possible 200
On the final

All of my junior year was a breeze
Except for the flack
Which some of the strait kids gave me
                                                                                                                   Eventually though, the party had to end

I had smoked so much weed over the previous year and a half
That I had developed a tolerance to it

Even if we smoked the best buds
We’d get burnt out
More than we’d get stoned

It was time to take a break from getting high

As a senior I had to get serious about college
And what I planned on taking as a major

My Physics teacher inspired me
To look into civil engineering
That’s what I took when I first enrolled
At the local community college

Chemistry was actually fun
Because the teacher was very good
But my Calculus teacher was an incredible bore
As was the subject he taught

It was all too soon that I began having doubts
About my career choice

Most of the bridges and dams
Which needed to be built
Had already been erected

What would I be doing if I graduated? Earthquake retrofit work?
BORING!!

The truth is, I was unsatisfied with my life in general
Largely because I had no love life

Here I was, now eighteen years old
And had never so much as kissed a girl
Or gone on a date

It was extremely frustrating.
The closest I had come
To having sex with a real lady
Was masturbating with my playboys

I still remember the first ones in my collection.
A friend of mine sold me three issues for only five bucks

I couldn’t believe he was willing to part with them
I’m telling you, these women were gorgeous

What could beat the spectacle
Of a scantily clad Candy Loving
Sliding down a pole
Or going for a swim
At the playboy mansion?

Penthouse came next
And it was even racier

Do you remember Dorothy Stratten
The playboy model who was tragically murdered
By her jealous boyfriend?

Though I’m ashamed, I have to admit
That I fantasized f**king her
Even after I knew that she had been murdered

Though I couldn’t have known it at the time
There was a Lord God above
Who was much displeased

Another time I was with some of my buddies
When we came across a playboy
Which featured Shannon Tweed
The lady who was in the movie ‘hot dog’
And who eventually happily “un- married” Gene Simmons
From the band “KISS”

So strong was my desire
To snag the mag and make like a stag
It was even bestial
A demon entering inside
A demon driven by desire

Every month, with every new issue,
I had a new fantasy f*ck

While there’s no denying that it felt good
The shameful thing was
That I was never alone in my room
I never was-
There was always God above
Not to mention all his angels-
And demons
And my shame was out in the open
For all to see

Undoubtedly masturbation
Only led me to be more insecure

Fortunately though, I had a couple of solid buddies
With whom I could drown away my sorrows

I had been working at the old Woolworths
On Burlingame Avenue
But since my friends were unemployed,
The beer runs quickly ate into my paychecks

Still it was worth it-
I had some grand times with Marty and Alan;
Sneaking into the high school football games,
And drinking atop the fox mall outcroppings
As we gazed down upon the avenue

Of course, I’ll never forget the other time
When I was headed to Half Moon Bay  with a couple of friends

Highway 92 was really clogged up,
It was bumper to bumper
But I could see Marty and my brother far up ahead
So I got out and jogged up to their car

Boy were they surprised when I suddenly hopped into their back seat

I believe we ended up going to San Gregorio
With it’s awesome, yet haunting cave

It turned out not to be the greatest trip to the coast
But at least we tried

We started driving to kegger parties though
And it was very nearly a tragic mistake

I remember once Matt was puking violently before he piled into the car
-And he was the driver!!

We were going 70 mph
As we cascaded down Ralston
But Matt couldn’t quite handle the veer in the road
Directly across from Crocker School
And we hit a telephone pole
His car doing a 180 on the spot

If we had hit the pole just a tad in the other direction
We’d have both smashed through the windshield

We nearly crashed another time
On the very same street

It was Erik and John
Who had the brilliant idea
Of driving all the way down to Davenport
On the coast near Santa Cruz
To drink beer

Then, just as Matt was suffiently drunk
Suddenly it was time to head back

Their plan was to get Matt wasted
So that he’d have to relinquish the keys
And let them drive the car back

After sufficient pestering
Matt finally agreed to head back
But he wasn’t about to let anyone else drive his car

At least, put it this way,
He was going to be the one
In the driver’s seat

As it turned out,
Erik and John did do some of the driving

They were the ones,
Erik from the back seat,
And John from the passenger seat,
Who had to continually grab the steering wheel
And veer us away from the oncoming semis

If I hadn’t been so unsure of my future,
Depressed even to the point of being suicidal
I naturally would have been much more alarmed

Poor Matt,
He was a handsome guy
And girls would be calling him all night long
But he’d just mope that there was nothing to do

He’d eventually end up living on the streets
A victim of severe manic depression

It’s no wonder that M.A.D.D. was founded
(mothers against drunk drivers)
The drinking and driving was out of hand
In the early eighties

So was the cocaine use

I was fortunate that I could never afford it
And only partook when it was offered to me

Personally I couldn’t understand what the big deal was all about

Sure, it provided a good buzz
And helped people to socialize
But it was so expensive
That I didn’t see that it was worth it

A handful of people
That I had gone to high school with
Would eventually get busted, big time
Stealing even from their own parents
In order to support their habits

That’s not to say that I never did coke

My friend Joe worked at a gas station
Which had a garage for car repairs

One night he “borrowed” one of the cars
Which was being worked on
And we drove over to the hills near Trousdale
Where we had a good view
Down to the S.F. airport

We did some lines and talked till four in the morning
Until we finally decided to head for home

That’s not a good time to be driving through Hillsborough
And sure enough we ended up being trailed by a cop

Fortunately, we ditched him by pulling into a driveway
And pretending we lived there

Of course I can’t recall what we socialized about that night
But I know that the talk was soothing
And I was in need of some comfort

I was adrift,
Unsure of what I wanted to do with my life
And adulthood was approaching far too fast

I knew this much;
I was no fan of the eighties.
I was clean-cut
But only because I was afraid not to be

I finally concluded
That since I was unsure of what I wanted to do with my life
I was just wasting my time in school

Looking back,
I can see that it was a mistake.
I should have only dropped Calculus
And stuck it out in Chemistry

In any case,
One thing I was sure of,
I was going to be myself
And not portray some image
That others wanted

If I was ever to be so lucky
To be asked out by a girl
She would never have to ask me
What type of music I liked

I was a headbanger
And loved Heavy Metal music
And was sick of not being allowed to show it

F*ck the preppy b*llshit
I was going to grow  my hair long
And wear leather

The first thing I did-
I got my ears pierced
And started wearing a battle-axe earring

Sure, it didn’t take long
Before my parents kicked me out of the house
But even then things worked out

Good Ole Frank,
Who I worked with at the liquor store,
Took me in and let me sleep on the couch
For just twenty bucks a week

Occasionally he’d have his girlfriend over
And I’d have to vacate
But I had other homeless friends at the time
And we’d all crash in Tom’s mobile home

Never let anyone convince you
That appearances don’t matter
The same people that say that
Are the ones who will scream at you to get a haircut

I’ll say this much;
I hadn’t ever felt free before
I had always been quiet and shy
Secure in the knowledge
That if I had gotten into a fight
I’d probably have been the one getting my ass kicked

But I had grown quite a lot
Over the previous couple of years
And had pumped a lot of iron

Now I was quite buffed
And was tired of letting other people dictate
How I should dress or wear my hair

At a time when Madonna,
Huey Lewis and the Pointer Sisters
Were overplayed on pop radio
I was head banging
And that made all the difference
I didn’t spell relief ROLAIDS
I spelt it RHOADS, as in Randy Rhoads

I’m sure that many people would say
That I just wanted attention
-and they’d be right
I was tired of being ignored,
Of being a nobody,
Most especially to the other sex

It seemed that if you wanted to be a sexy guy
And impress the ladies
The socially acceptable way
Was to carry around a big, fat wallet
Or a big, fat penis

I wasn’t about to play that game
It seemed to me to be crude in the extreme

Growing up in Boringlame
I knew I’d be bound to get into fights
But I was willing to pay that price

All in all then,
1985 started out as a great year
Unfortunately though my job did not last long
Too many people were complaining
About my physical appearance
And I ended up getting canned (fired) from the liquor store

Frank felt sorry for me
And lent me some money
So I could get started as a drug-dealer

Now I don’t have any moral qualms about this
After all I was only selling marijuana and mushrooms
My favorite drugs, which I was more than willing to take myself

In fact, my career as a dealer was very short lived
Because I was smoking and eating up all of the profits

That being said, I shudder to think of what a bummer it would have been
To have gotten busted

That never happened
Though once these guys tried to rip me off

It happened at the showboat, out by the bay,

I was with three of my friends
When we ran into two guys who were with their girlfriends

We were all partying together
When one of the guys asked if he could check out my weed

Like a fool I whipped it out and showed it to him

The next thing I know,
The *sshole is walking away asking
“Now what would you do if I didn’t give this back to you”

This guy was huge, if not solidly built,
And he had a 1.75 liter Jack Daniels bottle in his hand

It didn’t matter.

I was furious
And as my weed was almost the only thing I owned in the world
I wasn’t about to let him walk away with it

As it was, we happened to have an old rusty machete in our car

I remember grabbing it,
But after that all I saw was stars
My adrenaline was pumping so fiercely

That’s not to say that I wasn’t conscious,
But I was seriously blinded as I made my way towards the scrawny friend
Of the huge guy who had stolen my weed

I was shouting out every curse word I knew
As I waved the machete like a madman

As my vision finally returned
I stood facing the scrawny dude who was armed with a whip

I had no idea what to do next
But fortunately I didn’t have to do anything
My earlier display of my anger
Had been convincing enough
And the huge guy handed my weed back

I have to credit my friends Joe and Frank
With helping me in this engagement

While Frank scuffled with the whip-yielding dude
Joe was as calm as a wind-less pond
And by circling to the rear of the buffed dude
He kept him preoccupied

That wasn’t the end of the fight though,
For as the two dudes and their ladies piled into their hot rod
They didn’t take off, but instead hit it in reverse
And slammed into my buddies car three or four times

Fortunately, my friend’s car was a piece of junk to begin with
And so he hardly cared that his car was now a total wreck

I managed to hold onto my weed on that night
But eventually my supply ran out

Like I said I was eating and smoking too much
To turn a profit

I tried looking for a job
But I was repeatedly turned down
No doubt my long hair being a factor against me

Pretty soon, as I was unable to pay the rent,
I found myself booted out of Frank’s place

With nowhere else to go
I had to trudge back to my parent’s house

I was weary of what was to come as I rang the doorbell
But turned out to be surprised
For my parents had undergone a change of mind

They let me move back
On the condition that I went back to college in the fall

I was ecstatic!!
The good times, apparently would be allowed to continue

Eventually I landed a job at Toys R Us
And managed to save up for some kick *ss concerts

I had mentioned earlier of all the concerts I had missed;

Another concert scene which I didn’t see
Occurred at a Saxon show

My good friend Paul had gone to see them with his friend Carlton

Now Carlton was hopeless when it came to drugs

If you had handed him some pills
He’d take them, without even asking what they were
And down them with a shot of whiskey

He was insanely reckless when it came to partying

This time it wasn’t entirely his fault, however
For some guy at the concert was simply offering up a joint
As Carlton took a hit, however, he started turning green

It turned out, the joint was laced with PCP
And as the word got around, nobody else wanted to hit off of it

That is except for Carlton, who finished it off

Now Paul and his buddies were seated up on the balcony

The next thing he knows, Carlton is freaking out
Saying that he can telepathically communicate with Biff,
The lead singer of the band
And that he has to get backstage right away

So what does he do?

Logic would have dictated
That he’d have taken the stairs down

Instead, to the cheers of the crowd,
Carlton runs and leaps off the balcony!!

Thud…

Naturally, he smacks the concrete hard
And there’s a sobering hush from the audience

Then, miraculously, he gets up
As if nothing had happened,
The crowd once again cheering!!

I never did find out if he made it backstage

Paul related to me later
Of yet another amazing stunt which Carlton managed to pull off
Paul and Carlton, along with some other friends
Had taken some hallucinogens at a Black Sabbath show
Which was held at the Cow Palace

Though they had become separated,
They somehow managed to hook up after the show

The only problem being that they had no ride home

Well, Carlton picks up the phone, and out of the blue
He calls a cab company

Then, through some amazing psychic ability
He manages to convince the driver that he knows him,
Correctly guessing not only the driver’s name
But also his birthday!!

Before the spell wore off
Paul and Carlton had their ride home
Free of charge!!

The last I heard of Carlton
Was that he had become a monk
And was living in a monastery somewhere in Northern California

Good for him,
No doubt he had plenty of sins
Which were in need of repentance

Another concert scene, this one I’m glad that I missed,
Occurred at a Billy Sheehan show In San Jose
Where some fool, no doubt very high on some type of drug,
Began climbing up the rafters
Up and up he went, until he was at least fifty feet above the pit

He then tried to jump into the crowd,
But the crowd had been watching him
And pulled away as he leapt

This time there would be no getting up from the concrete

The heavy metal concerts of the early and mid-eighties were wild
You never knew what to expect

The security back then was sparse
And though there were always seating areas,
The area in front of the stage was a free for all
Where the stronger guys and girls
Tried to muscle their way closer to the stage

This area, called the pit, was notorious for fights

I only dared to brave the pit at a couple of shows
Most notably the Iron Maiden show on July the third of 1985

Though the show was way down in San Jose
I was already thoroughly stoned
By the time we passed through Menlo Park
On highway 101

Mingled with my high
Was the paranoia I felt
Since I didn’t have a ticket

I had never bought off a scalper before
And was afraid that the show would be sold out
So naturally I snatched up the first ticket I could find at $35
And I felt like a fool once I crossed the street
And saw tickets going for only $25

No matter, the show would prove to be well worth it

I didn’t care much for the opening band W.A.S.P.
But I had to admit they looked pretty scary, even demonic
As I nudged my way ever closer to the stage

By the time Iron Maiden came on I was within a few feet of the barricade

The most intense moment came when I made eye contact
With Bruce Dickinson, the singer

At that moment,
Through a demonic hallucination,
Everything faded away and I faced him alone
On a bloody battlefield

Now let me mention something about Bruce Dickinson,
He was one bad-assed dude.
Aside from his operatic singing ability
He had a certain aura about him

At one point he was rated number four in Britain in the sport of fencing

He was even featured in Sports Illustrated.

They had a picture of him, taken at a concert,
In which there’s blood running down the side of his head.
The caption read “An Iron Maiden concert
Can be a sporting event in itself”

Anyhow, he’s not the type of person
You’d have wanted to face on a battlefield
Back in the days when swords were still used
And so naturally my hallucination
Caused me to suffer a brief moment of terror

Nevertheless it was an intense concert
Especially when seen from the front barrier

As the concert ended
I was given an extra treat
For as I was on my way out of the arena
I decided to take one last look back at the stage

Lo and behold, a wristband thrown by Steve Harris
Was sailing right towards me

Like a fool I dropped it
But at least I was quick to pick it up

I immediately stuck it in my pocket
And looked around, all pissed off and ready to fight
In case anyone wanted to challenge me for it

Nobody did and it was mine

Right after the show
Paul offered me $25 for it, but I refused.
I probably should have accepted
Because I wore the wristband everywhere
And it wore out pretty quickly

Few concerts could compare though,
To the day on the green in 1985

We arrived late
And thus missed the Swedish guitar virtuoso
Yngwie J Malmsteen
Who would throw his guitar twenty feet in the air, catch it
And keep on playing without missing a chord

He was absolutely incredible
Yet even though we missed him
A young and hungry Metallica was up next

Far from being a household name,
They were only just beginning  to taste fame
Still with Cliff Burton, their original bass player
They were embarking on their breakout tour

In short, they kicked *ss
I didn’t even know who they were
At the beginning of the show
But I left a believer

I was a bit taken aback
When I saw Y&T hit the stage
Wearing yellow and pink

They were decent, but it wasn’t one of their better shows

The Scorpions though, kicked butt
Of the four times I’ve seen them
This was by far their best show.
No doubt they were inspired by the bands
Which came before them

As my hair grew longer,
I was growing more handsome by the day
But I also started getting harassed big time

I was an Ozzy Osbourne fan
And that brought me a lot of grief
Ozzy had just recently bit the head off of a bat
And understandably
that made him public enemy number one

I was f*cked with even more when I started wearing leather
“Are you in a band?”
or “Do you ride a bike?”

I grew sick of being asked those questions
By total strangers
As if it were any of their business

Fortunately there weren’t all that many fistfights
Usually  I’d just hear  “Get a haircut (you faggot)”
But usually by guys speeding safely by in their cars

Occasionally a bottle would be thrown
But mostly it was just dirty looks that I had to contend with

Something else I should confess;
Now don’t get me wrong-
I’ve never felt like a woman
Trapped inside a man’s body
Or anything like that
But I started cross dressing-
Wearing woman’s clothes

I never viewed it as a problem,
Just something kinky and fun.
I’d dress up in sexy lingerie
And dance around like a stripper

I guess I always envied the way that erotic dancers
Could treat men like suckers
And snatch their money

I suppose you’re probably thinking that I was a fag
But I don’t care
Like I said
It was something kinky and fun
No harm done

Eventually the school year drew near

This time I decided to give psychology a go

But I signed up with the same teacher
For both of my psych classes
This would prove to be disastrous

Naturally it was fun
Meeting new friends up on the hill
At the College of San Mateo
But no one caught my attention
More than a certain young woman

I know it sounds strait out of a screenplay
But I swear I first met her
When she dropped her schoolbooks
And I was handy to pick them up

Perhaps she dropped them on purpose
I’ll never know
I never asked

Now that’s not to say that I hadn’t eyed her earlier.
She was gorgeous
With her lovely, long blonde hair
And deep blue eyes
Which had once earlier
Made contact with mine

When we first set to talking
I wasn’t the nervous geek
Which I would have been just two years earlier
I didn’t even stutter

I was helped further
By her poor ability in math
And her need of a tutor
-For that I was the perfect suitor

She was a head banger
The same as I
Her name was Diana
And there was a concert coming up
Which we both wanted to see.
It wasn’t long before we set a date

Now her ex-boyfriend took much offense
And I was on the hit list
Of him and all his friends

Unfortunately that was quite a big circle

Once we exchanged phone numbers
We devised a code
And met at certain places and times
To avoid the prying eyes

It was a bit of a hassle
And I wanted to show off  my feelings for her
But it was little to ask
For such a treasure
As her company

It wasn’t long
Before our math-study sessions became intimate
And her grades, accordingly
Began to slip

Eventually the day of the big show arrived
A date we had been looking forward to
For some time

I was blown away
When she picked me up
She had never mentioned
That she owned a hot rod
Much less a 68’ Chevelle

My favorite memory of that night
Was the drive over to Oakland
Where the concert was being held

It was like living in a dream
I couldn’t believe
That such a wondrous thing was happening

I had had a couple of offers before
But I had wanted to make sure
That my first date
Was with Mrs. Right

Apparently I had found her
-Or her me

As for the concert itself,
It wasn’t anything great

We went to see the opening band
But they played a pathetically short set

At least I was able to get her close to the front
Where she had a great view
From up on my shoulders

The important thing
Was that as we left the arena
We were still holding hands

Things moved quickly after that

I wasn’t making any moves
I was leaving that up to her

“Aren’t you going to kiss me goodnight?”
She asked as she was dropping me off
After our second date

The third time we went out
We went to a party

We’d been kicking back at a table
Where she was playing with some beads

When she looked up
She had a wicked look about her
The evil eye

I knew then that we’d be sleeping together soon

A few days later
We were making out before class
When things got very steamy

She asked if there was anyplace
Where we could go
But I didn’t know of any
And so we made lust
Right in the back seat

This soon became a habit of ours

Now I can’t speak for her
Besides math, I can’t recall
What other classes she was taking
But my psych classes were a real drag

I mentioned before
That I had the same teacher for both of them
Well, he was an insecure little man
And that’s putting it nicely

Judging at least from the way he spoke
Money was the most important thing
In his little world

This a-hole would actually point out
Towards the lower income neighborhoods out by the bay
And call all the people who lived there “scums”

In today’s politically correct environment
This man wouldn’t last a day

When he wasn’t lashing out at “fags”
He was cutting down
 “those long hairs down in Santa Cruz”

The sad thing was
This man was a licensed therapist.
I feel sorry for the poor people
Who shelled out $75 or so an hour
Just to be cut down by him

I, for one,
Wasn’t about to sit in his classroom
And listen to his diatribes
Fortunately I had something better to do.

F**king, after all,
Was a lot more fun

For a while Diana and I were inseparable
But eventually I returned to my other friends as well

Joe was my best buddy

Poor guy,
Though his dad had long ago divorced
And then been remarried
Joe’s mother in law
Had never treated him as a part of the family

It got so bad
That he had to venture out on his own
And found himself without a home

Once my parents found out
That I had dropped out of school again
I was forced to join him

We weren’t totally skid
After all, Joe had a car

There were only two problems though-
Anyone walking by
Could see us crashed out
After all we weren’t in a van
But worst of all
The car didn’t even run!!

We’d park it in a certain place for three days
And then be forced to push it somewhere else
Usually late at night

Obviously this couldn’t go on forever but
Fortunately we found an abandoned house
Which was scheduled to be demolished

We managed to crash there for a whole month

And then there was that empty apartment.
A friend of ours
Who lived in the complex tipped us

I forget how we got in,
This was so long ago,
But in any case it wasn’t long
Before the manager came by and caught us

Fortunately it wasn’t much of a bust
And we were able to walk away

Late one night
Joe came by and woke me

He’d broken into the record store
And had packed a few boxes
With his favorite albums and tapes

Naturally he needed my help
And so we pushed the getaway car
About half a mile to the store
Then after he piled the boxes in,
We pushed the car away!!

It definitely was amazing that we didn’t get caught.
I knew the guy who owned the store
And should have felt bad about stealing
But I figured I was just paying back Joe a favor

After all he was letting me stay in his car
And he would have been hella pissed
If I hadn’t have helped him

The heist did put a strain
On our relationship though,
For the next day over at Doug’s house
Both Joe and Doug were obsessed with greed

“You ain’t getting anything”
They kept parroting

(Doug was getting a share of the records
In return for allowing them
To be stored at his house)

There were some rare records
Including “The Magic Lanterns”
A sixties group which featured a young Ossie Ozbourne

I just took off disgusted, however

I started sleeping in Diana’s car instead
Or when that became a bust
I’d sleep in my brother’s station wagon

It was summertime
And I was enjoying
Living like a hippie
But society wasn’t.
At least not in the ritzy town
That I was living in

This was the heart of the 80’s
When conformity ruled supreme,
At least in the suburbs

I was getting f**ked with on a daily,
No, more like on an hourly basis

So sick was I of being messed with
I started carrying a sheathed knife on my belt
And I changed my name to Johnny Blade
Which is the name of a Black Sabbath song
About a guy who dies in the gutter

“Been alone
All through his life
His only friend
Is a switchblade his knife

He’s the one
Who should be afraid
What will happen
To you Johnny Blade

You foolish people
Who’s fooling who
It’s time to listen
The fool is you”

Once I changed my name
I began having problems
With certain members
Of the Washington Park crowd

Buddy was the undisputed king of the park.
Everybody knew him
Yet nobody messed with him

I’m sure he felt
That I was encroaching on his territory

All that I was doing
Was representing Heavy Metal
But there weren’t many head bangers who were

One of the things which saved me from a showdown
Was that previous machete incident

By now, almost everybody had heard of it
And it gave me a reputation
Of being a crazy madman
Who you didn’t want to mess with

Even so, it frightens me
To think back on the time
When Sean was giving me some sh*t about my new name

We were on the second story of an apartment complex
And my back was to the railing

He was in my face
Giving me a hard time
And what scares me the most
Is that he was the type
Who would have just hucked me over the railing
Without thinking of the consequences

Sean would end up
Doing some serious prison time
For beating the sh*t out of some poor guy
With a baseball bat

I’m sure glad it wasn’t me.
I had enough worries at the time.
My stomach had begun to suffer
Because I had so much anxiety  inside of me
Just from walking down the street

I wasn’t about to give in though,
Instead I’d just crank the Heavy Metal louder
As I cruised around with Diana

Poor girl,
I really did abuse her car stereo
But this was a cultural battle which was being fought
And I wasn’t about to quit

I was friends with a couple of girls named Tina and Michele

When I was introduced to Michele’s mom
It was obvious at the first glance
That she already disapproved of me

I could tell by the sneering look of skepticism she wore

Once, as she was driving up the avenue,
I was being assaulted by a man
Who had just left a bar

The guy was calling me a punk
Calling me a punk!
As he attacked me
For no reason other than my physical appearance

I was able to ward him off
Without much trouble
But as I was busy doing so
His sneaky friend tried to circle around
And take me from behind

It was a good thing that I had my friend Joe on my side
He arrived just in time

Our attackers were unable to make much headway
And the fight soon petered out

Just as it was breaking up
Michele’s mom happened to drive by
And she scolded me for fighting

Here I was, the one being attacked
And in her mind I had probably started it all
The irony struck hard and left me speechless

I finally came to my senses
And dropped the knife
And began carrying around
A baseball bat instead

It was during this time
That I had that fateful experience at the church

As I walked down the aisle
A hundred stares upon my back
The beautiful stained glass windows
Instead appeared eerie and oppressive

A dark cloud was descending upon me.
What I had thought were shivers
Racing up and down my side
Were actually demons entering inside

Following my encounter with the priest
And with Jesus Christ
By life began a downward spiral,
Yet ever so slowly

In the short term, however,
Things took a turn for the better

I began writing epic poems

What inspired me were the lyrics
From the bands Iron Maiden and Rush

It was amazing how well they could put words together.
I just had to have a stab at it myself

My first fantasy story
Concerned an evil religious crusade
Herein lies a sample;

“No quarter, either side
Nowhere to run
Nowhere to hide
We’re trapped, surrounded
Perched on a mountainside

Caught in the deadly grip
Of winter and hunger
We warmed ourselves by cooking dead comrades

Slimy, wormy tissue
It squirmed down my throat as I swallowed
I held back my distaste
We’d all need strength for the breakout attempt

The sky bloody red
The sun already set
We prepare for battle
Last will and testament

As arrows pierce our ranks
We charge on
Rolling dice with death

 I could feel the dragon’s breath

We were so close
We could almost spear the enemy
Then, suddenly, the ground gave way

“Get back, it’s a trap”
The warning came too late
And we were seared by the flames

Branch covered, oil drenched pits
Just waiting to be torched
Spread out in front of their trench
The rotten stench of death abounds

Limbs, amputations;
They litter the ground

Exhausted, dispirited
I make my escape
Past the head of our leader
Impaled on a stake”

Since the epic poems I was writing
Were similar to the lyrics
of Heavy Metal songs
I’d often recite them to other head bangers

I’d find plenty of them
Hanging out along El Camino in San Mateo
Back in the days when cruising  was still popular

On Friday and Saturday nights
Between highway 92 and Hillsdale
The El Camino was practically a parking lot
It was so jammed with people of all stripes

Preppies, jocks, head bangers;
You name it

It was wild.
Once I saw some rookies driving by
Who were drinking from an open keg as they drove
Talk about a lame bust!

I have mentioned earlier
Of how I had worked for Toys R Us

Well, on Saturdays
I had a brutal twelve hour shift
From 10 AM to 10 PM

Afterwards, I’d walk all the way home from Redwood City

Even though it was a good ten miles
I figured I could use the exercise and the adventure

Anyhow, the best part of the hike
Was through San Mateo where the cruise was

Now, a year later,
Thanks to Diana, I was actually driving the cruise
Instead of walking it

We were styling in her Chevelle
And couldn’t help blasting “Highway Star”
Or other Heavy Metal hits

My epic poems made a great conservation piece
And I met a lot of guys who were in rock bands

I also met a few idiots

Mark, aka “The Loony”
Was a masochist

Though he’d often rub people the wrong way
And got into a lot of fights
He’d rarely ever fight back

Instead he’d just say “hit me”
Inevitably the other guy would
And Mark would be bleeding
But he’d just beg for more

“Oh, so you think you’re tough, do you?
Then hit me again” was all he’d say

At least for awhile,
Mark’s way of getting around
Was not by a car or a bike
But by a pogo stick!!

Even on the El Camino you could see him bounding along.
No word on whether he developed back troubles

 Mark’s best buddy was Howie
A most disreputable sort

There’s no counting
The scores of young women he deflowered
It was probably far more than one hundred

Once, when he was in bed
With an underage girl,
Her daddy burst into the room with a shotgun

Howie managed to get away that time
By leaping out of the window
Of the second story apartment building
But the police managed to catch up with him
And while he was in the county jail
They stopped the elevator between floors
And beat the cr*p out of him

Howie eventually had to take off for another state.
He had created too many enemies
Among jealous ex-boyfriends

The El Camino cruise was a lot of fun
But there were a lot of a-holes
Who hung out there as well

Once, when I was alone,
Showing off my poetry
I was jumped by a gang of thugs

I wasn’t even looking when they first hit me.
The next thing I know
I’m being dragged into an alley
Where they proceeded to beat the cr*p out of me

One punch landed directly in my eye
And I saw a big green flash
“these f*ckers are going to blind me” I thought
As I started shrieking like a wild animal
As loud as I could

It worked and my assailants fled,
No doubt only concerned that they might get caught

As I took off and tried to get away
They came after me again

Fortunately a couple of good Samaritans
Said “get in” and drove me away from danger

The San Mateo police
Eventually cracked down on the cruise
But it was fun while it lasted
In spite of some unfortunate incidents

Naturally, the best memories I have
Were of scoring in the back seat of Diana’s car

One time we were busted
Or at least we could have been
But the police officer just checked our Id’s
And left us alone

No doubt he had other more pressing concerns

We discovered an even better hangout spot
Downtown in Redwood City

Pony Express Pizza served up more than just food.
In the back of the restaurant was a stage
Where local bands would play

Sometimes they were juvenile,
Just kids who were out of tune
But there were some decent bands as well

“The Ruffians” were very good
In spite of their lame name

They had opened for Ronnie James Dio before
And had at least one epic tune
With an Egyptian theme

I was friends with a couple of the guys
From “Hidden Fate”
They were very talented
But weren’t commercial enough
To become a huge success

Unfortunately I never did see any of Brandon’s bands.
Brandon was an awesome singer
Who fronted “Heaven and Hell”
(a Black Sabbath tribute band)
As well as other projects

The band “Riot” was also very good
I can’t figure out how they didn’t hit the big time
They were certainly talented enough

What made Pony Express such a cool hangout
Was that half of the audience members
Were in bands themselves

I kept reciting my epic poems
Hoping to find a band which I could collaborate with
My main poem was still the one dealing
With the evil religious crusade

“We traveled from tribe to tribe
Embracing pagans with the Lord’s religion
And enslaving natives
To build great missions

Some fled or resisted
Their traps well hidden
Our  wells doused with poison

In skirmish we were successful
They hightailed into shadows
Watching, waiting,
Their numbers always gaining

We’d been marching through woodland
In an orderly column

Suddenly savages sprung up all around us!!
They caught us in the open
And then cut us down!

Wounded King Peronakin,
His horse shot from under him,
He lay on the ground dying of wounds

Their marksmen shot us to pieces
Before we could retrieve him
Then slipped away
The field filled with dead and dying
Our king lying on his death bed

Sweeping out of the woods
They sliced us to shreds
Then fell back to the mountains
To ambush again

Burning bridges,
Destroying our roads
Poisoning our wells and water holes

We couldn’t even tell friend from foe
For those in battle wore no colors
And many of our “friends”
Proved only actors
Burning our churches
When our backs were turned

We were forced to use torture, interrogation
Meanwhile I did some thinking of my own

These natives we were fighting-
All they wanted was their freedom
And what’s so bad about their own religion?

They eat wild mushrooms
But in moderation

Respecting and loving one another and nature;

Would it be that we could be so pure

But as I am wise
I must also be quiet
The watching eyes, they are upon us

‘Does thou doubt our mission a holy one?’
The bishop’s grin was evil, twisted.
I must better hide my expressions
We’re strangled by inquisition”

Unfortunately, I never did find a band
Which was receptive to my lyrics

But Diana, on the other hand, encountered one
Which was in need of a manager
And she volunteered her services

This band was good, but not great
But it was fronted by a most interesting singer

Marty was delusional and I seriously believe
That he thought he was Robert Plant,
The lead singer of Led Zeppelin

That being said,
He was a very intelligent dude
With whom I would have some interesting conversations
In the years ahead

In the meantime though,
Diana was becoming more frustrated
By my homeless and jobless situation

She expressed her wishes
That I would find a job
So that we could move in together

One day I accompanied her
When she had some business to tend to in San Francisco

I wore my leather pants and vest
And didn’t think anything of it
-boy was that a mistake

Apparently, in the city
Things were a bit different

I spent the four hours or so
Which I had to kill as I waited for her
Wandering around Market street
Where people thought I was a male prostitute!

As if that wasn’t bad enough
This was at a time when AIDS was rampant
And as I went into the fast food restaurant
And ordered my meal
The employee looked at me as if I were already dead
I.e. contaminated,
Doomed to die

One guy solicited me
But offered me only twenty bucks

Yeah right!
Try fifty thousand
And then we’d have had a deal

Needless to say I was happy to see Diana again
And head back home

I gotta give Diana a lot of credit
For she turned me on to a couple of great bands

I had thought that I knew
Most of the decent metal bands
But I had never even heard of U.F.O. or
Ritchie Blackmore’s Rainbow

Back in the seventies
When they were fronted by Ronnie James Dio
Ritchie Blackmore’s Rainbow produced such hits as
“The Gates of Babylon”, “Rainbow Eyes”
and “Still I’m sad”

Their greatest hit of all though,
Was “Stargazer”

It makes me sick that radio stations
Ignore this band

What is the point?
Are you trying not to sell CDs?!!

I challenge the people over at MTV
To pick a person at random
Right off the street
And ask them to direct a music video
For the song “Stargazer”
And I will bet you
That they could easily help sell thousands of copies
Of the CD which the song is on; “Rainbow Rising”

The song is as epic as A Stairway to Heaven
And would lend itself easily to video

This classic,
Placed in an Egyptian setting,
Concerns a race of people
Who, led by a sorcerer, build a pyramid
In the hopes that the sorcerer
Will be able to fly off of the pyramid
Once it is built

The first part of the song
Deals with the building of the pyramid

Then, the guitar solo represents the sorcerer
As he climbs up the monument

Tragically though, after he leaps off the pyramid
He falls to his death
Instead of flying away

In the song’s climax
Ronnie James Dio practically cries as he laments the people’s woe
Since all their beliefs in their prophet
Turn out to be forlorn

Sorry to go off on a spiel
But the capitalist in me
Sees it as a big waste

Nine out of every ten Led Zeppelin fans
Would also be Rainbow fans
Yet instead they don’t even know that this band exists
All they ever hear the radio stations play
Is “The man on a silver mountain”
Which isn’t even one of their best songs

Anyhow, back to the real world;

I managed to land a great job at the local library.
What could have been better than to be paid
To shelve books!!

Of course with all that wisdom passing swiftly by
I couldn’t help but read some of them as I shelved

Much of what I read was disturbing, though

The history classes
Which I had taken at school
Usually wrapped up around the time of the Korean War

Now, for the first time I was reading
About my governments foreign policies
During the Vietnam War era

Much of it was scandalous

In 1973, Salvador Allende
Was freely elected by the people of Chile

While it’s true
That he nationalized many industries
Which had previously been owned
By U.S. companies,
Most notably the mining interests,
He had, after all, been elected fairly

Kissenger remarked however,
“I don’t see why we should stand by
and let a country go Marxist
because it’s people are irresponsible”

Immediately the Nixon administration
Began efforts to undermine Allende

The CIA not only funded his opponents
But also encouraged the Chilean military
To attempt a coup

When the chief of the Chilean armed forces
General Rene Schneider
Refused to be tempted
And supported democracy instead,
The CIA issued $50,000 for his head

We wanted him kidnapped
But when the attempt was bungled
He ended up being murdered

The CIA soon had it’s coup
And Allende fell from power
Only to be replaced
By a most brutal dictator
Augusto Pinochet
Who would rule with an iron fist
For over fifteen years

As if our policy towards Chile wasn’t bad enough,
We supported Ferdinand Marcos in the Philippines

I’ll admit that at certain times
I was a small-time criminal
But there was nothing small
About Marcos’s crimes

His nation was impoverished
Yet that never stopped him
From looting the coffers

He and his wife Imelda would amass a fortune worth billions
While a great many Pilipinos
Had to turn to prostitution just to survive 

The drug dealing, prostitution and money laundering
So rampant in his country
Was not only tolerated, it was sanctioned
Just so long as he got his share

While his people starved,
He had a huge Rushmorian bust of his head constructed
A monument to his arrogance

It was only obvious
That there would be opposition to his reign

In his view though,
All of his opponents were communists
And deserved to be tortured accordingly
-with electric currents applied to their genitals no less

Marcos declared martial law in 1972
Yet the more repressive his measures,
The more his people rose up against him

Sadly, even the Carter administration,
Despite it’s concerns for human rights,
Continued to support his many wrongs

As far as more current events were concerned,
Closer to home was Central America
Where the Reagan administration
Supported the Nicaraguan contras
Or counter-revolutionaries with drug money!!

Reagan first tried to obtain funding the legal way,
By congressional approval,
But when that didn’t work
Cocaine dealing did the job

Before working at the library
I had largely been ignorant of foreign affairs
Now I was outraged!!

Of  course it would have been impossible
To support saints
This world is a dangerous and corrupt place
But often the regimes we propped up
Were even more repressive than communist states

Surely this had to change
And I thought I had an answer

I would seek out people who were like-minded
And would form a militia

We would organize and drill
Until we had raised a small army
And then we’d march off to Europe
And try to join N.A.T.O.

Of course not all of us could go
Economically that would be unfeasible
But even with the few troops we’d be able to send over
We’d make a powerful political statement

Millions of Americans were opposed
To our nation’s policies
Towards Nicaragua and El Salvador

What better way to grab attention and headlines
Than by manning the front lines
In Germany and France
Or any other N.A.T.O. ally who would take us

Back when America was first founded
The revolutionaries fought back against the British
Not only with the regular soldiers
Of the Continental Army
But also with various militia outfits

The war could not have been won
Without these two widely different types of fighting units
Struggling together with the same goal in mind

To raise a militia was an American as apple pie
At least it was in the early days of this country
And that was good enough for me

I lived in fear of the draft
Because there’s no way I would have gone

More than likely, I would have waited with a rifle
For the authorities to come a knocking
And would have gone out in a blaze of glory

Oh, don’t get me wrong
I wasn’t afraid of dying in a war
I half expected it. I wanted to be a soldier

But I wasn’t about to be ordered about
And made to fight for a cause that I abhorred

Though we can all thank Ronald Reagan
For his vital role in the collapse of the U.S.S.R.,
I venemently disagreed with his policies
Toward Central America

The brutal murderous thugs
Whom the Reagan administration propped up in El Salvador
Were in my view the one’s most responsible
For the carnage in that beleaguered country

I believe in capitalism to a large extent
But when less than 5% of the population
Owns more than 90 percent of the wealth
And holds onto their power by murdering
That’s not capitalism, it’s corruptionalism

If the Reagan administration
Had sent a large number of troops
To Central America in the 1980’s
There would have been a public outcry
And many protests

If they had tried to conscript young men
And force them to fight
There might have been a lesser version
Of the virtual civil war
Which broke out in the tumultuous sixties

The politicans were smart enough to realize this
And that’s part of the reason such things didn’t happen
But that doesn’t change the fact
That I lived in fear of such horrors occurring

I for one, wasn’t about to wait around
Until a war broke out

Once I hit upon the idea of raising a militia
I went all out to convert others to the cause

I knew that one divisive issue
Would be whether or not homosexuals and bi-sexuals
Would be allowed to enlist

The eighties must have been a hard time for gay people

Not only was AIDS an epidemic
But society wasn’t all that welcoming
To those with divergent sexual desires

I imagined that many homosexuals and bi-sexuals
Would jump at the chance to serve their country
Even if it were in a radical militia

Perhaps gaining more self respect
But certainly more respectability in society

I had no intention of turning them away
But I also had to deal with some strait people
Who didn’t want to have anything to do with queers;

Therefore, the militia would have to be segregated
With one branch open to homosexuals and bi-sexuals
And the other one reserved for strait people

During the Vietnam War,
Many members of the Hells Angels Motorcycle club,
No doubt upset with the anti- war protests,
Volunteered their services to the government

They were willing to go to Vietnam
And join the fight against the Viet Cong
Not as Marines or Regular Army Soldiers
But as Hells Angels
Their beards, long hair and tattoos intact

The government turned them down
Which is understandable

The problem was that the Vietnam War
Was a guerilla war
In which it was hard to tell who the enemy was

One moment, you could be marching past
A couple of innocent looking farmers out in the fields
And the next moment
They might drop their hoes,
Pick up AK47’s,
And start shooting at you

In such a confusing struggle
It was easy enough for tempers to escalate
To the point where atrocities might occur
Such as the ones depicted
In the Academy Award winning film “Platoon”

In one of the film’s dramatic moments,
Staff Sergeant  Barnes,
A hard-edged whiskey drinker from Texas played by Tom Beringer
Kills Sergeant Elias, who is a good soldier
But also somewhat of a counter-cultural hippie
(he’s played by William Defoe)

Sergeant Elias believed in winning over
The hearts and minds of the Vietnamese people
As much as it was possible.
I’m not so sure that the Hell’s Angels Motorcyclists
Would have been so good at that.

On the other hand,
If they had offered to fight in the Korean War back in the 1950’s,
As the South Korean people would have welcomed them,
I don’t see why a deal couldn’t have been arranged.

I believe that Marijuana is legal in America
For the simple reason that 
The Declaration of Independence states
That “All men are created equal
and are endowed by their creator
with the basic rights of Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of happiness”
enough said!

It is interesting however,
How society’s views towards Marijuana
Have changed with the times

It caused an alarm to conservative society
When Black and Hispanic minorities used Marijuana
As far back as the 1930’s

However, Marijuana really made it to the forefront
Of the political debate during the tumultuous 1960’s
When droves of young people began using it,
“dropping out of society” and protesting the Vietnam War

I can attest from my own experiences
That Marijuana tends to make at least some people
more peaceful and reflective

I was sure that the cure was solid doses
Of melodic Heavy Metal

I’m talking about Yngwie Malmsteen, Rush
Black Sabbath and Iron Maiden

They wrote epic tales of warriors from long ago.

Their sagas sure got my blood pumping.

I mentioned before just how crazy some of the concert pits were
Back in the 1980’s

They were free for alls where guys would be just wailing
On each other with their fists.
This was especially true with the heavier bands like Metallica or Slayer

Why not harness all that otherwise wasted, negative, often demonic, energy
And direct it towards the Soviets instead?
That was my thinking at least.

It seems to me that it is culturally insensitive, to say the least
For the U.S. Military to continue to shave the heads of all the recruits
Who are entering into their hallowed institutions
 
To shave the head of a Heavy Metalhead such as myself
Would have been akin to cutting off Samson’s hair before
He was expected to go into battle against the Phillistines

It was also reminiscent of Roman campaigns
To civilize the barbarian tribes

That wouldn’t have worked for me at all.

I have to believe that there are more than a few Native Americans out there
Who are also resentful of the fact that if they wish to serve
Or are drafted into the U.S. Military,
They have to go through the humiliation of having their hair shorn off.

If you ask me,
It’s reminiscent of ancient campaigns
To “civilize” the natives

As far as women are concerned,
I’m glad that they earned the right
To serve in the U.S. Military
To the extent that they have

I’m glad that at least some minorities
Have the right to serve their country proudly.
I’m still struggling for that right myself

During the mid-80’s
There was a horrible famine in Ethiopia
Which was largely a result of that country’s ongoing war
With neighboring Eritrea

A musician named Bob Geldof organized a benefit concert
Which was called “Live Aid”

The show featured many top acts including Queen
And Led Zeppelin and Black Sabbath even reformed for the occasion

The concert was a success and raised money for a relief effort.
Although it was a noble cause, worthy of praise,
It would have been far more adventageous
To have prevented the famine before it even happened

All the signs were there
Which pointed to a disaster in the making
Yet the world stood idly by until it was too late
And people were already dropping from starvation

I realize that there are those who couldn’t give a damn
About poverty and hardship in other parts of the world

I even heard cruel jokes being made
About the famine victims

I didn’t share these views, however

The way I saw it,
I could have easily been born in Africa, Asia, or anywhere else
And it would have been a great shame
If I didn’t use the power I had
As a citizen of a mighty nation
To at least attempt to alleviate the sufferings
Of those less fortunate than myself

I didn’t have much money to give away to charities
But I at least tried to read up
On events and injustices in other parts of the world

I suppose in another life
I might have been a missionary
It was certainly something which interested me

In any case,
I hoped that if I could find recruits for the militia
That they’d be conscientious and charitable
Rather than apathetic

The way I figured it,
By coming to the aid of struggling peoples
Who weren’t as fortunate as us,
We’d be winning over hearts and minds

There was an organization called “Sane Freeze”
Which had an office in San Francisco
(It’s now called California Peace Action)

I wish I had known of it back then,
For it was staffed with energetic, enthusiastic people
Who would have eagerly lent me their ears

Instead I was left adrift in a sea of apathy

When I first set out on my cause
I was of a democratic mind set
But after years of being ignored and laughed at
I would later become bitter and tyrannical

Although it was my shame
That I never paid my fair share of the rent
It most definitely was a pleasure to live with Diana
When we finally moved in together

We no longer had to worry about getting busted
Every time we made love or had sex

We could get as kinky as we desired

We’d both dress up in lingerie
And take turns strip-teasing each other

I’m not sure if it turned her on when I danced
But at least she didn’t laugh
She definitely liked my poem “Danielle”
Which I wrote about an erotic dancer who is nervous
Because it’s her first day on the job;

I was wearing a white,
One piece bathing suit
With a red belt secured tight around my waist

The boots I had on were pink, leather
And caressed my legs
To just above the knee

Everyone I had asked
Had thought they were too dangerous
But I couldn’t have cared less
I loved to be caressed

At the moment
I was taking a last nervous look at myself
In the full length mirror

Though I was generally pleased
With what I saw
Still my suit was a size too small

Even though it was sure to end up stretched
I pulled it up till it covered my breasts

It felt as though
It’s straps would break
Yet after a struggle
I had them secured

The suit was sure to leave marks in my shoulders                                                       Still I couldn’t have cared

I just loved the snug fit
And the feel of pleasure
As it hugged my derriere
Far outweighed the pain
Of feeling restrained

Masochistic I may be
Yet for now I’m free, unbounded
And full of energy

My golden locks falling past my belt
Had vibrance and bounce
As I danced about
Playfully rehearsing my moves
In front of the mirror

When at last I felt ready
To put on a show
I spun a half-circle on my heels
And headed for the hallway

My customers were in the recreation room
And I couldn’t afford to keep them waiting

I took a deep, uneasy breath
Outside the door
My hand trembling
As I turned the knob

I was tense
And made anything but a grand entrance
As I strolled into the room

Two of my customers
Didn’t even bother
To look up from their game of pool

I shrugged off their absorbed self-interest
And turned my attention
To the other pair of men instead

They too were wearing suits
And were seated on the far end of the room
On a sofa

I was pleasantly surprised
When I realized they were so handsome

At most they were only a year or two older than me
And that made me all the more eager to please

I wanted to kick up my heels
And prance across the room
Like a Vegas showgirl
But instead, I settled for a lazy stroll

Even still, they thought I was sexy
I could see it clearly in their eyes
-the way they focused on me
As if I were on parade

I did my best to play the part

Placing my hands firmly against my swaying hips
I ran my tongue in a wide arch
Across my upper lip

In no time,
Having crossed the room,
I stood before them

Suddenly however, I was unsure of what to do

Every erotic dancer has to start somewhere
Myself, I had never put on a show
For a man before
And was feeling insecure

Just then I noticed
That the most handsome of the two men
Was about to fire up a joint

A hit of pot always helped me to relax
And to release my inhibitions
So naturally I sat myself down
In the man’s lap
When he offered me a hit

When Diana decided she wanted a pet
I suggested a cat or a dog
But she knew better
And soon we had a Budgie,
An awesome little green bird

He would continue to be my friend
Even long after Diana and I
Eventually split up

He would spent hours in front of the mirror
Making out with his own image
All the while thinking
That if was another bird

Once, like a fool,
I took him outside

He took one last look at me
Hardly believing that he was actually free
And then he shot off into the sky

Immediately a large raven swept down to attack him
And he was forced to flee to the shelter
Of a nearby tree where I climbed up and grabbed him

Diana and I were low on funds
And couldn’t afford to go to all the great concerts
But we did see Megadeath, Aerosmith
And Ronnie James Dio, who with his castles
And fire-breathing dragons
Was always sure to put on a great spectacle

An even better show
Was Metallica’s last tour with Cliff Burton
Just before the tragic bus accident
Which claimed his life

We were seated far above the fray
Yet even still the pit was murderous
The fists seeming to fly in sync with the music.
It was definitely the livest crowd I had ever seen

Unfortunately melodic Heavy Metal as I knew it
Soon all but disappeared
To be replaced either by thrash bands
Playing at the Stone in the S.F.
Or glam bands from L.A.

The worst was when MTV came out with it’s Headbangers Ball show

What a nightmare!!
One apathetic, poser L.A. band after another

I couldn’t stand to watch it
But as Diana enjoyed the show
It was on every Saturday night
Ruining many of my evenings

It was about this time when I almost lost my sight in an accident

It occurred on a weekend
When we cruised way down to Butano State Park;
Diana and I, along with Jeff and Anton

We went for a short hike together
But then split up

It’s not that Diana and I were consumed with passion
And wanted to do the wild thing
But we did want some privacy

We spent a good part of the afternoon
Being sweet and romantic with each other
But then my buddies showed up
And they were hella pissed off that they had been ignored

They were each waving a stick around
Challenging me to a stick fight.
When they started making fun of my new name
I was fool enough to rise to the bait

The joust only lasted a few moments;
We were both pissed off and swinging hard,
But unfortunately for me, Jeff had the weaker stick

It snapped in half,
With him still holding the stem
As the other end shot directly into my left eye

I didn’t feel any pain
Though when the shock wore off
I began to worry that I’d go blind in that eye

It is nothing short of a miracle that I didn’t
And that to this day I can see clearly

About the only bright side
Was that I knew then just how much Diana cared for me.
She let out a primal shriek when it happened
And bereted Jeff for having hurt me

At least the incident didn’t affect our friendship
Everything returned to normal for Jeff and I
Once it became clear that I was okay

I can’t even remember the name of the band
Which Diana managed
But I got along well with Marty the singer

He was always interesting to talk to and I tested all my theories on him

When we got together, we’d play Avalon Hill strategy games
Such as Panzer Leader, 1776 or War At Sea

I’m sure you’ve probably heard of
Or maybe even played the game “RISK”

I never cared for it because there was way too much luck involved

What we did was throw away the RISK cards
And we’d play instead with infantry, tanks and planes

We basically meshed AXIS AND ALLIES and RISK
And played on the RISK board

Even Diana played along with us.
She wasn’t the greatest strategist
But I could usually count on having her on my side

Naturally Marty and his other friends would have to unite against us

While we played, we socialized about radical politics;

                               DAMON
Did you ever hear about how the Hell’s Angel’s Motorcycle
Club had many of it’s members volunteer to go off and fight                                                        in the Vietnam War?

                               MYSELF
Oh, that’s right. They wanted to fight, not as Marines or Army
Soldiers, but as Hell’s Angels. And our government turned down
Their offer.

                               MARTY
I can understand our government’s reservations. After all, the
Vietnam conflict was a brutal guerrilla war where you didn’t
Always know who the enemy was. One moment, a peasant could
Be harvesting rice and the next thing you know, she has an AK47
Pointing at you.

In such a conflict, your soldiers have to be really well trained
Or else the chances increase that they will commit atrocities.  

                                 MYSELF
In a more traditionally fought war, though, such as the Korean
Conflict or World War Two, where you know who your enemy
Is because they are wearing uniforms, I don’t see any reason                                                             Why a Motorcycle group or any other sub-culture shouldn’t
Be able to fight as it’s own entity, just so long as they have been
Very well trained.

Heck, just look at our alliance of N.A.T.O.  It’s comprised of
Soldiers from many different nationalities. Some of those
European countries allow their soldiers to wear their hair long  
And some have more lenient policies towards marijuana usage.

It doesn’t appear to have irrepedely damaged N.A.T.O.’s cohesion 

 
                                 Myself   
So, do you know the story about the Colt 45?
Why and how it was invented?

                                 Marty
Wasn’t that during our conquest of the Philippines
Back at the turn of the century?

                                 Myself
Yeah, the American soldiers would shoot the Filipinos
But they’d just keep on coming.

So they needed a better type of weapon,
One that would stop them in their tracks.

                                 
                    Damon                                                                                               I’ll bet that did the job.

             
                    Myself
I’ll say. It blew holes strait through them.

…So, you know how that war ended, don’t you?

               Marty
I forget. Fill me in.

                         Myself
An American officer named Frederick Funston
Thought up a clever ruse-

                          Marty
Oh, don’t tell me, I remember.
He pretended he was a prisoner, and with a Filipino guard
Loyal to the Americans marched right into Algonados’s camp
And captured him.

                          Damon
Is that who Fort Funston is named after?

                          Myself
Yep, that’s the guy.

It’s a good thing that the Americans-

                          Damon
More like Tyrannicans.(laughs)

                          Myself
Well anyway, it’s a good thing that he managed to pull
Off that stunt because otherwise the war might have gone on and on.
It was a lot like Vietnam. A brutal guerilla war.

Do you know that’s when the term gook was first coined?
 
                          Damon
Hurry up and play. It’s your turn.

                                Myself
Speaking of the Philippines reminds me of Macarthur,
What do you think of him?

                      Marty
What about him?

                                Myself
I don’t know where to start. Well, actually for starters, shouldn’t
The Philippines have been evacuated when it appeared that war
With Japan was eminent? Weren’t they indefensible?

                                Damon
Yeah, we sure got our asses kicked there, didn’t we?

                                Marty
What gets me is that he abandoned his post and retreated in a sub,
Leaving Wainwright to surrender.

                                Damon
Well, you really can’t blame him. After all, Roosevelt ordered him to retreat.

I will say this, it was in the Korean War where he really screwed up.
If he hadn’t threatened China, they might not have gotten involved.
That war might have lasted less than a year.

                                 Myself
At least give him credit for the Inchon landings. Boy were the North Koreans
Overextended. He really cut them off there.

                                 Damon
What do you think of the Indianapolis, the naval vessel. What do you
Think of that story?

                                 Marty
Wasn’t that the ship which carried the atom bombs across the Pacific?

                                 Damon
Yeah, imagine that. We had only two atom bombs
And yet we housed them both on the same ship.
Imagine if it had been sunk. Then where would we have been?

Anyhow I think you get the idea.
 
Marty and his buddy Damon
Would have made perfect recruits for the cause

They were hippies, but intellectual.
What’s more, they were military philosophers

If there had been more people like them around at the time
The activism from the sixties could have carried over into the seventies
 
Obviously, during the Vietnam War era
There was a great deal of outrage
Regarding our country’s foreign policies towards the third world

What a perfect time the mid-seventies would have been for a militia movement
Which would have been anti-imperialist,
Yet at the same time pro-N.A.T.O. and pro-Chinese containment.
Our nation’s bi-centennial might have had a slightly different flavor

Our government would have had a harder time
Conscripting people for unpopular wars
If they were already were serving in their nation’s defense       

Our marching cry would have been-
If they hit our shores
We’ll be ready to defend
But to fight imperialist wars-
NEVER AGAIN!!

I imagine you may be thinking
That our militia would have been a joke
But let me remind you of how America began

As it turned out,
It was the British Redcoats who played the fools
When they laughed at the farmers
Out drilling in the fields

It was the citizen-soldiers, not the professionals
Who would have the last laugh
At Concord, Bunker Hill,
And a host of other battles

Occasionally, after a show at the Pony Express Pizza
There would be a party

After attending one of these
I was in a really good, almost euphoric mood

I had spent my time there
Propagating my causes
And had made some inroads into public opinion

One guy just stared back at me with his mouth draped wide open

He had been in the military and was quite impressed
That someone would have the balls
To try to raise one themselves

Anyhow, after the party
Diana and I were cruising home on highway 280
When I was greeted with a most encouraging sight

The road signs were held together by bolts
Which were illuminated by lights underneath, shining upwards

The indentiture caused by one of these bolts was heart shaped,
Something illuminated quite clearly by the lights below

Viewing this, I took it as a sign that the God’s were quite pleased with me

I should explain what I mean when I say “the Gods”

I considered many animals and men
Capable of becoming more powerful after death.
I believed that the soul lived on after the body died
And that a soul could be freed
And even empowered by the passing

Once, I wanted reassurance
And so I asked of all the spirits which were out there
To be given a sign of their existence

I looked skyward and saw a Nordic God smiling at me

That was all I needed and I resumed on my way
Convinced that I was on a righteous cause

As for myself,
I was more interested in early American military history
As opposed to studying modern warfare
But I was always sure that I’d be able to find people
Who were all caught up on the latest technological advances

Back in the 1980’s
I sometimes thought it outrageous
Just how much money was being made
By weapons manufacturers and designers

Well it turned out to be money well spent
For it contributed to the collapse
Of an evil empire

Here’s a good time to thank Ronald Reagan
For his role in bringing the Cold War to an end.

Whatever else he did,
And I certainly didn’t agree with all his policies,
He stared down the Soviets
And perhaps more importantly out spent them

The fall of the Soviet Union
Ranks in my b