All The Young Punks Pt. 05

--- 1978 ---

After The Young Punks' second show, Vic made them his Saturday night band at The Underground for as long as they wished. Each week they easily surpassed the fire marshal's limit of 165. The college kids they knew from RIC invited students from Providence College. They became regulars along with the hoodrats and Joe's classmates. Each week Joe added new stunts to his bag of tricks.

Claire missed the second and third shows because of her hostess job at Twin Oaks Restaurant. She was annoyed that she wasn't seeing the evolving show. She popped by the garage every Sunday and heard all about it from the kids hanging out. Joe was really into her, but things were moving very slowly. On the fourth weekend, she called in sick again, determined to not miss out.

Between sets that night, a man approached Sal at the bar. They talked for a few minutes, he handed Sal a card and left. Sal came back to the stage with a smile.

"That's the asshole from the Met Cafe who wouldn't give me the time of day when I tried to get us in there. He wants to know if we're interested in a midweek date at his place."

"What did you tell him?" Joe asked.

"I'd get back to him."

The Met Cafe was another dive bar, a small stand-alone building directly under the deck of the elevated Interstate. It was an eerie, dark industrial setting on the gritty edge of downtown, a poorly lit area, like a scene from a film noir. On a Wednesday night, The Young Punks debuted their show at their second club. They weren't playing downtown, but it was close. It was a good gig for a weeknight, maybe a hundred and fifty paying partiers, including students from Rhode Island School of Design and Brown University.

A few dozen friends of the band showed up, but the best thing about that show was most of the crowd had never seen them before. Everything was new to them. Joe enjoyed seeing the smiles on college kids' faces, delighted with his on-stage shenanigans. They went crazy for the TV themes and dance contests. It was a fabulous night, another boost to his confidence, which was already pretty high. The club manager asked them to come back next week.

Claire was able to make that show. She and Joe were having a great time. She pulled him aside before the show with some breaking news. "I got fired. My boss found out my boyfriend has a band and that's why I missed work last week."

"That sucks. I'm sorry to hear that,"

"It's okay," she said. "School is out in a few weeks and I have my summer job up north. I was done anyway."

What struck Joe was her using the term 'boyfriend.' They hadn't been undressed yet. It was only making out and heavy petting... but he was hoping. Claire's other news was better.

"I and a few classmates asked the Student Union to hire you before the semester ends. I gave them your business card."

The Rathskeller at the Student Union was a campus bar and club where Joe and Sal had seen The Beaver Brown Band play months ago. It was a cool hangout for students only... with guests permitted.

By the time they played the Student Union, the band had ten shows under their belt. Joe had tweaked and fine-tuned his schtick. On that night in The Rat, they introduced a new stunt, the Great Beer Race. Joe selected a guy and a girl from the crowd. They cleared a path from the stage to the bar. Four beers for the band were poured. The contestants ran from the stage to the bar, grabbed the beers, and returned as fast as they could. The frat boy won the race by a wide margin. As he was high-fiving his frat bros, celebrating his victory, Joe called a time-out.

"Hold on, not so fast pal. I failed to inform you... there's a penalty for spillage."

Joe held the two beers the frat boy delivered at eye level. Sal held up the girl's pint glasses for all to see. They pretended to be carefully inspecting the contents, but it was obvious.

"The winner, by disqualification for abuse of alcohol, Melinda!"

The guys booed, and the girls cheered, it was a good bit. The crowd was digging Joe's antics. The Rat show was great. They made a lot of new fans. On that night Joe realized playing new venues was the most fun because their show was fresh.

Afterward, Claire and Joe hung out in her dorm. Joe figured this was the night. She said he was her boyfriend. They finally had privacy, but it all blew up in his face.

Lying on her bed, kissing, Claire asked Joe when his graduation was. He leaned back. His heart sank. At that moment Joe realized he was a dead man walking.

"Next June."

Claire pushed him away and sat up. "Next year?" Her mouth was agape. "You're only a junior?"

"Yes. Did I say I was a senior?"

"No. I just... " she stammered. "I just assumed. How old are you?"

"Seventeen."

"What the hell, Joe? I thought you were eighteen and graduating in a few weeks. Why didn't you tell me?"

"It never came up. You just assumed."

"No." She stood up and looked down at Joe on her bed. "The other guys are so much older than you. How the hell did I... "

"I don't know, but you made all the first moves."

"So it's my fault?" She said, walking towards her window.

"No, but I don't think I've done anything wrong."

Claire let out a long exhale and stood silently, staring out at the campus after midnight. Joe didn't wait for the rejection he knew was coming. He stood up, grabbed his leather, and stood by the door.

Claire turned to him. "I'm nineteen. I can't date a seventeen-year-old high school junior." Then she struggled to get her words out. "I don't know what to say. I just can't." She stared at Joe for a few seconds.

Joe said nothing. He waited a moment, opened the door, and left. He walked more than two miles back to the garage, feeling sorry for himself. When he told the guys what happened, Nate burst into laughter. Sal found it amusing but held back. Johnny sat quietly, feeling bad for Joe.

"Ya know," Johnny said, "Fuck her. If she shows up here expecting to hang out, I'll show her the door."

"No," Nate said. "Claire's hot. You don't give hot chicks the boot."

"Don't be an asshole!" Sal barked at Nate. "Can't you see he's hurting?"

Nate bowed his head... corrected. Joe sat quietly for a minute. The guys didn't know what to say. Finally, Joe spun his misfortune.

"Fuck it," he said. "She told me weeks ago she has a summer job in New Hampshire and she'll be gone for two months. She's a camp counselor. I guess she has a boyfriend up there and she wanted me to know. This was going nowhere anyway."

"You'll be fine, Joe," Johnny said. "You have girls all over you these days... in case you haven't noticed."

"He hasn't," Nate laughed. "Because he's been too wrapped up in goody-two-shoes Claire."

"Can you guys do me a favor?" Joe asked. "If she comes around, please don't fuck her. That would hurt."

His bandmates all nodded and muttered under their breath, and Claire's name was not mentioned again.

----- PSYCHOTHERAPY -----

Joe took the Ten Bus through crosstown traffic to College Hill. It was not his best ride. A drunk man had thrown up in the back of the bus, and then got off, leaving commuters to suffer. Joe held his nose, laughing to himself. He began writing a song in his head about the stinky bus.... Vomit Comet. He imagined thrashing Clash chords with a jaunty rhythm.

As he walked into the reception area of the medical office, Dr. Nichols was talking to another patient, a young girl. He stepped back into the hallway. Over the years, he learned that Dr. Nichols preferred to not have her clients mingle. When the girl's parents arrived to pick her up, Joe walked in.

"Hello, Joe," she smiled. "I was glad to hear from you, it's been a few months. I hope whatever's troubling you isn't serious, but it's good to see you." She looked him up and down. "Did you have another growth spurt?"

Joe shrugged and looked down at his feet. "My jeans aren't high waters. The last time I had to buy new clothes."

"You look... a little taller." She waved her hand to her office. "Please, come in."

After some small talk, she went to the usual questions.

"How are you and Mom doing?"

"The same old shit."

"How's school?"

"It's okay, just school."

"Have you had any fights?"

"Nope."

Dr. Nichols pulled out her notepad and pen. Joe liked her skirt, maybe a little short for a woman his Mom's age, but she had the legs for it. She took a deep breath and shifted herself in her chair.

"Is there a particular reason you've come in to see me?"

"I don't know if this is something we should even be talking about."

"We can talk about anything you want. That's the point of therapy."

"Even girls."

"Is that what's on your mind?"

"Yes."

She smirked. "You and every other seventeen-year-old in America."

Joe took a deep breath and exhaled. "My band is doing great. Our friends love us and there are a lot of girls around, college girls." Joe told her the story of Claire, all of it, and how it made him feel rejected, and the other times college girls have snubbed him.

"It happens a lot. Once, standing in line for concert tickets, I had this cool conversation with a cute girl. She was flirting with me. It was obvious... until she found out I was in high school. Then she gave me the cold shoulder. It happened a few times at the record shop around the corner." He pointed south.

"I will say this, Claire is correct. It's different for girls, to a point. When I was thirty I dated a man who was twenty-seven. At that age, a couple of years is not an issue but at nineteen two years is a big difference, especially when she's an adult in college and you're a minor in high school. I understand how you feel, and I sympathize with you, but she's not being unreasonable."

"I understand that," Joe said, "But when they're clearly into me, flirting and touching, and we're having a good time, and then they turn on dime... that's cold. It's humiliating." He lowered his voice. "And it hurts."

"Ya know," She said with kindness in her eyes, "You've grown into a good-looking young man. These girls are attracted to you, but they think you're older. Maybe because you're in this band with the older boys. I think you should be honest up front, to avoid these harsh letdowns."

"I suppose."

"If college girls are flirting with you I'm sure high school girls are too?"

"Yeah, a little, but they don't have the confidence older girls have, so it's hard to say for sure and I don't want to assume and embarrass myself. Also, those conversations are kind of boring... well, compared to the college girls."

"You're young, Joe. These things get worked out over time. Every teenager goes through this. Look at it this way. If girls like you, that's half the battle. You'll be fine."

"It sucks. I can't wait to turn eighteen and graduate."

The doctor looked at her watch, then scribbled something in her notebook. "We're about done." She looked at Joe. "So, let's end this as usual. What's making you happy these days?"

"My band has played fourteen gigs, and we get paid."

"That's great. Where do you play?"

"Around town, at a few bars."

"Ummm, you're not old enough to be in bars."

Joe put his finger to his lips, "Don't tell anyone, doctor-patient confidentiality."

"I definitely won't tell your Mom."

"She knows."

"How does she feel about it?"

"Let's see," Joe flipped a finger out for each word, "Worried, disapproving, disappointed, suspicious. Ya know, the usual stuff."

"What do your sisters think?"

"They think I'm the coolest older brother in the world."

Dr. Nichols smiled. "I'm not going to make another appointment for you. I think you know I'm here for you. You can call any time."

"Thanks, Doc." As they stood, Joe was close, looking down at her. Barbara Nichols looked up. He could smell her perfume.

"I'm pretty sure you've grown another inch."

"Maybe I have," Joe said, then thought to himself, 'And a lot more in my pants.'

-- HOT FUN IN THE SUMMERTIME --

Joe didn't wallow for too long. He had work to do, and a business plan to expand the band's turf outside the city of Providence. It started with him making phone calls to nightclubs around Rhode Island and nearby Massachusetts looking for work. Summer was coming fast and he wanted to take full advantage of his school break. He told the guys they could play four or five gigs per week if he could find the clubs. When the cold calls failed, Sal offered to drive him to clubs to meet with owners and bar managers. They started in downtown Providence at The Living Room.

There were two clubs downtown that stood above the rest, Lupo's Heartbreak Hotel and The Living Room. Both were on Westminster Street across the river from College Hill. Brown and RISD students descended on downtown every weekend to party. These were the best gigs in the city. Lupos was by far the bigger club, but it was mostly rock and blues. The smaller Living Room was punk and new wave. It was a clear choice.

Meeting with Randy Hien, the owner of the club, Joe and Sal were disappointed to hear he was largely booked for the summer, and with the college kids all heading home or to the beach, he didn't need a new band. A light bulb went off in Joe's head.

As he and Sal climbed back in the work van, Joe smiled. "How about we drive down to Narragansett and check out the Bon Vue Inn? Johnny says that place is great. All the URI kids go there."

Sal nodded, "There's a bar in Westerly too, The Knickerbocker. We may as well hit both."

"I think playing at the beach this summer would be pretty cool."

"I know," Sal smiled wide as he drove off. "That's where the girls are."

The one-hundred-fifty mile round trip to Narragansett and Westerly did not yield a job, but both bar managers seemed interested and said they'd get back to Joe. Undaunted, Joe and Sal pressed on, hitting every decent bar they knew to have live music and a few indecent joints. With less than two weeks remaining in the school year, Joe was determined to get new summer gigs.

---- BEACH BOYS ----

In early July, three weeks after the school year ended. Joe was flipping through vinyl records at Sound Waves, a music store in Wakefield, Rhode Island, a few minutes from Scarborough Beach. A brunette girl walked up behind him.

"Joe, what are you doing here?"

Joe turned to see a girl he barely knew from high school. "Hey, Kelly. What are you doing here?"

She poked his shoulder. "I asked first."

"We're playing The Bon Vue tonight?"

Kelly shoved him lightly, "Get the hell out of here."

"You don't believe me?"

"No, of course I do. I didn't know you guys played down here."

"This is our first weekend. We played The Ocean Mist in Matunuck last night. Tonight is The Bon Zoo."

Kelly laughed, "That place is crazy. Now I have to change my plans. I can't miss this. Your band is so much fun."

"That's what everyone says." Joe noticed Nate was gawking at him from across the store. He smiled at him and glanced back at Kelly. "So what are you doing?"

"My family has a beach house in East Matunuck. It's my last summer before college."

"Where are you going?"

"BU. I can't wait but I'm also a little nervous."

"You'll be fine," Joe smiled. "You have a big brain."

Kelly blushed, "Thanks. It's not the brain I worry about. It's the city of Boston, and being away from home. I'm excited and anxious at the same time."

"Pfft, Boston is just up the road. You can come home anytime."

"That's what my dad says."

Joe and Kelly talked for a few minutes. She promised to see him at his gig. Joe selected a Johnny Thunders record. As they were leaving, Nate elbowed him.

"Who was that hot chick?"

"Kelly Marsh. She just graduated." Joe met Nate's eyes. "She and I didn't speak for three years at Central. She was a year ahead, an honor student, and a popular girl. I didn't think she knew me."

"Look at you, scoring with hot popular chicks."

"I didn't score anything. I guess she saw one of our shows. She's said she'll be at The Bon Vue tonight."

"Sweet. Maybe you will score." Nate slapped him on the back. "You could use a lucky break."

"And she's bringing some friends."

The band had been doing gigs for nearly three months. Nate was now a true believer. He lightened up on Joe because he saw with his own eyes that the kid had something special going on. He never apologized. That wasn't in Nate's DNA. He simply respected Joe, but he still broke his balls.

That weekend was the beginning of a new band routine for the summer of '78. They played beach bars every Friday and Saturday night and returned to the city for a couple of midweek gigs. Vic didn't like that The Underground was now relegated to Wednesday nights.

Joe assured him it was only temporary. "Look, it's only for the summer. The Bon Vue holds around three hundred and they charge a three-dollar cover. We can't pass that up."

"I can raise my cover," Vic said.

"But you can't squeeze another hundred people in here. This is the smallest venue we have."

"Wednesdays are a crappy night."

"I'm sorry, man. We're getting a lot of inquiries. That's what I can offer you."

By the end of July, through sheer hustle and word of mouth, they had collected five clubs along the Rhode Island shore, from Newport to Westerly, as well as a couple of new suburban bars not far from the city. They had ten clubs in all.

Every Friday morning they drove to the beach, spent the day in the sand and surf, grabbed a bite, did their gig at night, stayed overnight nearby, and repeated that action on Saturday. Joe cracked up laughing at Sal, standing on Misquamicut Beach talking to three girls who knew the band, wearing his leather jacket with a dozen zippers and buckles, in his Speedo bathing suit.

He walked up, shaking his head. A brunette with an impressive chest waved, "Hi, Joe."

Joe waved back, checking out the teeny bikini she was busting out of. He poked Sal, "What the fuck is this punk beach fashion?"

Sal shrugged. "I didn't want to leave my leather in the van, and I was sick of carrying it."

"That's how we knew who he was," the redhead said with a smile. "Who else would wear leather to the beach?"

"A meathead," Joe laughed. "That's who." Joe looked down at Sal's too-small bathing suit. "Are you smuggling grapes down there?"

The girls laughed, but Sal did not.

After their show that evening at The Knickerbocker, they did shots with the girls and hung out on the beach. The chesty brunette girl, Monica, was sweet on Joe, and a bit handsy. This was their life through July and August. Sunday became their day off. The Young Punks had a successful summer, but not everyone was excited for Joe and his band.

---- COLD HARD CASH ----

Joe arrived home late on a Sunday morning after a weekend of working and partying, tired, and in need of sleep. The guys had been up all night hanging out with Kelly and friends at her family's beach house after their third Bon Vue date. He needed rest.

The family had just gotten back from church. His sisters were all dolled up in their Sunday best, staring at Joe, who was a mess. He needed a shower. Mom needed to talk.

"I don't like this, Joseph. You're never home. You spend all your time at that damn garage or playing in dirty bars. That's no life for a teenager."

"Mom, the band is doing great. We're good and I'm making serious money... for a teenager."

"You never see your sisters."

"Joe glanced at the girls. A little help here, please?"

"Mom," Jackie said. "He's home plenty."

"I eat dinner and sleep here at least four nights a week."

"That's true Mom," Jules joined in. "You're not being fair."

"The band is my job," Joe added. "I plan on making this work."

"So this is it? You think you're gonna be a rockstar? That's ridiculous. What are the odds?"

"Alice!" Dad said sharply, but that's all he offered.