1978
Trials and travails of that last year in high school that happened five years later
After two years literally taking in the dirty laundry of movie and rock stars, working the counter at Hollyway Cleaners in West Hollywood…
…while attending L.A.C.C., studying English and Philosophy, I transitioned (not that transitioned!) from hourly wage guy to telemarketing wiz-kid. New Beemers every year, dinners at Mr. Chows, and lucky young ladies who got to go to Hawaii or Aspen just cause they happened to be my girlfriend. And, that I was a little bit of a legal criminal. Loves of my life. I've had plenty loves of my life. More than my deserved share. Just five years earlier it was very dark times. My 25-year old cousin jumped off a 20-story building and the band I drummed in split up and formed new bands without me. I was a pretty good drummer in 1960's basic Rock and Pop, but I guess not quite good enough for the Prog Rock everyone was now playing, or trying to. I don't know. It just bored me, which affected my ability to play it. That's my excuse anyway... I'll write about Lawrence Kenton when I do. When I can. Ever since his untimely death in August of '73, his ghost has been looming over my shoulder nearly every day ever since.
Larry loved me more than he loved anyone else in the family, with the possible exception of his aunt, my mom, Aunt Gloria. Larry left the Land of the Talking on the intratransdimentional express bus which departed from one of the many then unsecured roof-tops of the Park La Brea Towers. Meet me at Farmers Market? I don't think so. Those two catastrophic events affected me; one deeply, the other annoyingly. Luckily for me, I was also performing in my high school plays and musicals and had a 2 and a half octave singing range. Plus, when I was in the band, I got one or two of the guitarists to show me a lick or two. I thought of myself as a songwriter by 1978 and would often do musical open mics and ran one in Hollywood. This was way before I ever heard of something called The Comedy Store in 1981. The world was different then; certainly to me, a rather spry 22 year old trying to still maintain zest for life after a lifetime of enduring tragedy and laughs. One thing about my family. As fucked up as it was as a unit, we had laughs. 1978. This was #1 in L.A. at the time. I liked it because she was Neil Young's friend. And any friend of Neil's is always a friend of mine.