Bus stop


Handwritten page of a diary dated Sept. 22, 1990

… knew if we couldn’t scrounge some quarters off someone, we weren’t going to get Lindsey on the bus in time to make it over to play practice on time. Why didn’t she think of this when she was counting all our money to see if we had enough for her to buy the beaded hat at the thrift store?

There’s a total of exactly one guy within a block of the bus stop, and he’s sitting there sound asleep.

I go “He looks like Death’s daddy.”

She goes “Who is Beth?”

I go “I didn’t say he looks like BETH’S daddy. I said he looks like DEATH’S daddy.”

The sleeping guy heard us and woke up. He looked less scary when he was awake, but still, I was not so happy with Lindsey when she said this: “Sir, if you’ll give me the money for a bus ride, my friend will sit here and have a nice conversation with you for half an hour” Then she looked over and saw that I was mad, so she goes “OK, no 20 minutes. She will talk to you for 20 minutes about anything …  but keep it clean because she took judo lessons.” (I didn’t)

After Lindsey rides away, he smiles. Then he goes “I’m not going to insist that you stay here with Death’s Daddy.”

I kind of mumbled that I was sorry for calling him that, and he goes “Actually, that’s quite an interesting turn of phrase. Are you a poet?”

I go “Most of the poets I know are kind of … gloomy.”

He goes “The Traveling Wilburys aren’t gloomy at all.”

He had to explain to me who they were (except I already knew about everything there is to know about Bob Dylan from my grandma) and somehow “Death’s Daddy” ended up convincing me that I should try my hand as a writer of song lyrics. Which is a good idea, proved by the fact that I got a pretty good start on a song thought up in my head while I walked home.


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Published in: on May 3, 2016 at 3:54 am  Leave a Comment  

Free Fallin’

Handwritten page of a diary dated December 27, 1990

…  been trying to get him to come over so my parents could meet him. He said no again yesterday but I said oh come on it’s my birthday. So he FINALLY said yes. The part was ok when we all hung out in the kitchen for a little party. They seemed to like him and Dad said we could listen to records in my room if we kept the door open the whole time. It should’ve been a good time but we got to arguing about music and we couldn’t even think of ONE song that we both liked. He asked if I like Motley Crue and I said no. He said what do you like, Michael Bolton? which I found insulting so I said I like “Janie’s Got a Gun” by Aerosmith. But he said he didn’t like Steven Tyler because he wears women’s scarves. Finally I thought we were getting somewhere when he mentioned Tom Petty, but the song he likes is “Free Fallin’” which is about the only Tom Petty song I DON’T like. I know I’m picky about lyrics but I hate it when someone keeps repeating the same phrase over and over and over. I think it started that summer when Maggie came to stay for a long time and she kept playing “Rock Me Amadeus” a million times and I thought I would scream if I ever heard the name Amadeus again.


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Your mom is a babe

Handwritten page of a diary dated May 21, 1990

…  always watch Saturday Night Live after we go bowling — ever since Wayne’s World started. So last night Wayne had a crush on Garth’s mom, and it was hilarious. But then Randy starts saying he thinks that could really happen and I said huh? and he said “Yeah, like for instance YOUR mom is blonde too, and she’s a babe.” I laughed but he didn’t laugh and then I said “Oh no you don’t.” But he DOES! He said he’s had a big thing for my mom since we were in seventh. MY MOM!

We hardly talked after that but then he went to the john and he was gone a long time and I found him watching my mom sleep!!! I said that give me the willies and he had better just go home. He said “you can send me home, but your mom is a babe when she’s asleep.”

What a dweeb.


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Published in: on September 13, 2012 at 9:46 pm  Leave a Comment