All The Young Punks Pt. 25

-- October 1979 ---

Joe called Tina late in the evening. After two days in the garage working on old covers and new music, he was exhausted, emotionally as much as physically.

"The first couple of hours were awkward. I don't even want to speak to Sal. Johnny is fine, but he's not the same man. He's weak and..." Joe paused. "I don't know how to describe what I feel about him."

"How did he play?"

"He was good yesterday and better today. That's not what I'm worried about. The band is good. It's like we never took a day off. We did two eleven-hour days. We're ready for the stage. It's off-stage that concerns me."

"When will you play a gig?"

"Randy offered us Halloween Night at The Living Room, next week. I think I need to take that date, and then maybe play Barney's. Those are our best fans."

"You won't be back until after all that? It'll be weeks."

Joe sensed the whining was coming. "I can come up this weekend before we play downtown. I need to get away from these guys but it'll only be for a couple of days."

"Why do you need to get away from them?"

"This is hard, T. I don't trust anyone."

"You said the band will never be the same. Maybe you're causing that. You can try to be more positive."

"I can't fake it. There's no pretending you trust someone. Once that's lost there's no..."

"I know what you mean, but you have to try."

It took Joe a few more days to move past his feelings that he was cornered into this compromise. The band dynamic slowly returned; the ball breaking, the laughs, and the fun of playing together. The music had a healing effect.

Joe took the train down to the city to make his unhappy girlfriend smile for two days and nights. She made it clear that was not enough. Joe had no sanctuary. There was pressure in New York, an awkward truce at the garage, and he wasn't certain how to manage the competing priorities in his life.

On Halloween night, a few songs into the second set, Joe quieted the crowd by doing nothing. The band knew his moves. If Joe stood at the mic, his lips inches away, and said nothing; the crowd would take his cue. The room went as silent as a bar full of drunk college kids could be. He did this whenever he had something to say.

"I want to apologize for our hiatus. We ran off to New York City and found some trouble. We came back a changed band and now we're trying to put it back together. This is our home turf. We had to play here first. I'm happy to see our friends, all of you... anyone who's been here from the beginning."

A drunk hoodrat shouted, "The Underground!"

Joe laughed, "How many here saw as at the skanky Underground in the west end?"

A contingent near the bar cheered.

"Just the hoodrats," Joe said. "Not you Ivy League twats. You trust fund babies know what neighborhoods to stay the fuck out of. We are Providence townies!" Joe pointed at the bar. "They are the hoodrats! You old money bluebloods from Greenwich and New York City..." he paused. "You're on our turf!"

Joe punched that last line with attitude, pointing at college kids. A few wealthy Ivy Leaguers got nervous, assholes puckering, wondering what the fuck this punk rock townie was doing. As the locals cheered rowdily, Joe smiled, feeling the discomfort he conjured.

"Welcome," he spread his arms out. "Welcome to our party. Buy a blue-collar punk a drink with your privilege. We're all friends... having a good time. "

"We love you, Joe!" a girl screamed from the back, "prompting cheers."

"I love you, too. It's cool that we've played back-to-back Halloween Nights here. I like tradition."

The band broke into The Addams Family, a song they first played at The Living Room on Halloween last year. After the TV theme sing-a-long Joe debuted a new original song.

"We play a lot of college bars, like The Bulldog Saloon, near Yale."

The Brown crowd booed.

"We have fans at Harvard."

They booed louder. Even the townies boo Harvard.

"NYU and Columbia."

As they continued booing, Joe quieted the crowd. "At every college bar we play, at every beach club filled with college kids, there are townies. This song is called... " Joe strummed a hard, distorted E chord, "Townie."

It was not a song celebrating townies. Townie was a harsh, honest song about class and blue-collar pride in one's city. While he was belting out the slightly angry lyrics, Joe spied Claire in the crowd. She wore scary makeup and her hair was a big, teased-out mess. She smiled and waved when she realized he noticed her.

After the show, she found him side-stage drinking a beer with an old friend, Issac. She snuck up behind him and put her hands over his eyes.

"Guess who?"

"Only one person I know uses this move."

She laughed, uncovered his eyes, and when Joe turned, Claire hugged him. "I miss you. It's great to see you, Joe."

"How are you?" He leaned back, "And what's this costume supposed to be?"

"It's nothing, just make-up and messy hair. I'm a monster."

"Hi, Claire," Issac waved.

"Hi, Issac," she smiled, standing very close to Joe. "Are you still hitting on him?"

"No." Issac smiled. "I know Joe likes girls."

"Yes, he does. And we like him." She turned to Joe, leaning against him. He could smell her perfume. "I'm so glad the band is back together. I've been hearing rumors."

"We can't stop people from talking."

"How are you?" She placed her hand behind him to pull him closer. "I miss you so much."

"You said that." Joe met Issac's eyes. "I'm good, and you?"

"Okay. How's New York? Are you still..."

"He was just telling me about his girl at NYU," Issac interrupted.

"Oh, so that's working out for you?"

"Yeah, it is." Joe stepped away, sending a gentle message.

After a minute of small talk, Claire kissed Joe on the cheek, looked him long in the eyes, and walked off. "I'll be seeing you around."

Issac smiled. "Is she still hitting on you?"

"It seems so." Joe watched Claire walk away.

"You still have a thing for her, don't you?"

Joe shrugged. "Why wouldn't I? She's fun."

"And beautiful," Issac smirked.

"That too."

*****

After the Halloween show and a Friday night at Barney's in Worcester. Joe was locking down dates for a road trip down the coast, from Maine to NYC. He had a long and difficult phone conversation late in the evening.

"We're playing fine. Johnny is as good as he's going to get. I need to see him on the road. That's where we'll find out if he can handle this life. I need to do this now, T."

"You won't be here for weeks?"

"I'm sorry. I need to know if Johnny can do this."

A half-hour later, Jackie sat on the edge of his bed. After overhearing his side of what was clearly an emotional conversation, she popped into the dungeon to check on her big brother.

"Was she crying?"

"I'd call it weeping."

"Is Tina a wimpy, needy girl like Jules?"

"Don't call Jules a wimp."

"But you agree with needy?"

"Tina is needy, just like Jules."

"Is everything okay with the band?"

"We're playing great. I see glimpses of Johnny Cool. I feel good today but who knows about tomorrow? It's weird how things flip. Two weeks ago life in New York was happy and peaceful and all my drama was here at the garage. Now she's my problem."

Jackie smiled at her brother. "Tina will adjust because she's in love with you. I understand how she feels, Joe. I had fun with her talking about you. She gets you, and I think she's good for you. Tina's a challenge for you."

"She's way out of my league, sis."

"Bullshit." Jackie pointed at him. "Don't you ever say that! She sees you for who you are and she loves you."

"You should see her in her world. She's beautiful and spectacular."

"And so are you... in your world."

---- TRANSACTIONAL ---

The following morning, after his therapy session with Jackie, Joe decided to roll the dice. Dealing with real relationship demands and feelings was new to him. His sister's amateur help was good for Joe, but he needed a pro... so he placed a phone call. It was a gamble. He didn't believe Dr. Nichols would see him, but she agreed to meet, only because she had an opening.

"How are you, Joe?" she said, holding her office door open for him. She looked up, "Okay," She stepped back. This time I'm certain you've grown."

"Yeah," he said as he walked in, "I reached the six-foot milestone and didn't even realize it until Mom commented. She insisted on measuring me." He took his place in the easy chair. "She still has the hash marks on the door frame for all the kids. I thought I was done with that, but Mom lined me up against the wall a few weeks ago."

Dr. Nichols sat in her chair. "I hope this visit isn't about something serious."

"I'm fine," he said as he settled in. Dr. Nichols adjusted her skirt and crossed her legs. Joe recalled how much he admired her long legs. "It's not serious compared to the other stuff I've been here for. I just needed to talk to someone disconnected from what I'm dealing with."

"How are you and Mom?"

"You may not believe this. She's been great."

"Really?"

"I honestly thought she was on Prozac or something. Jackie and I went through her medicine cabinet to see what pills she was on. It's nothing, she just turned the corner and... changed."

"How is that possible?"

"I don't know, Doc. It happened while I was away this summer. I came home to a new mother."

Joe told the doctor of his summer in the city, the good, the bad, and the ugly details. He left nothing out. She seemed genuinely happy that he was in love. He told her about Mom's transformation, and her letting go of past grievances. He then explained that he considered quitting his band over Johnny's addiction and how the guys came to a compromise. He ended his story with an unhappy girlfriend, the reason he was there, and the clashing priorities in his life.

"Let me tell you what I like hearing," Dr. Nichols interrupted. "You put Johnny ahead of your ambitions. You have concern about Tina's happiness and you're trying to find a balance. The fact you're struggling with these challenges is a sign of maturity. There are many people who would do what they desire regardless of how it affects others. I'm not surprised that you have empathy and you care about them. You always have, for your sisters, for the kids you defended at school, and now you're carrying it into adulthood."

"Okay, how do I find that balance? Tina is crying on the phone over not seeing me for a week. What's gonna happen when I go on the road? I don't know if I can take that."

"I believe that's Tina's problem more than yours." Dr. Nichols paused. "Forgive me for saying this. She's an intelligent twenty-year-old woman, but it sounds like she needs to grow up emotionally. You can't do that for her. That's Tina's journey."

Joe stared at Dr. Nichols, letting her words sink in, realizing that she was correct. He knew talking to her would clear his mind. It always did. Since the moment he arrived, he was transfixed on the open buttons of her blouse, her elegant neck, and the gold Star of David she wore.

"Are you Jewish?"

"Yes, you didn't know that?"

"I never thought of it."

"Is that a problem?"

"No, of course not," he said. "I don't recall you ever wearing the star." He placed his fingers on his chest.

She touched her necklace. Her long red nails contrasted her fair skin and gold pendant. "This was a recent gift from my mother who is troubled that I don't practice Judaism with the fervor that she does."

"So, we have that in common?" Joe smiled with surprise.

She smiled back, "Yes, we do. If you think an overbearing Catholic mother is a lot to handle, try an overzealous Jewish mother for a week. You'll run home to your Mom." She adjusted her legs, recrossing them and shifting to her side. "Believe me, Joe. I have always related to your maternal struggle."

"A few weeks ago," he said, leaning closer. "I thought I made my first Jewish friend in New York. Then I realized I have like..." He thought for a moment. "I think I have five Jewish friends there. I didn't know some of the punks were Jews when we first met."

"We don't have horns as anti-semites like to portray us."

"Except these guys have the horns," Joe laughed. "Spikes and Mohawks."

"Jewish punks? I can't say I know any."

"I know a few. So you're not religious?" he asked, suddenly fascinated with his doctor's faith.

"I am, but it's not the core of my being. I go to the temple occasionally. I observe the holidays with my family, but I'm not deeply faithful. I am culturally Jewish. The God thing is tricky for me."

"We have that in common too," Joe nodded. "I'm going to steal your line. I'm culturally Catholic, but the God thing?" Joe shrugged. "I'm not buying in."

"Atheism is alive and well in the Jewish intellectual community. I'm not an atheist," She said. "But I have doubts and more questions than answers."

Joe wanted to know more about Dr. Nichols. He knew very little about her. She didn't discuss her life very often. On occasion, she'd offer an anecdote, like her dating a younger man years ago, but she rarely spoke about herself. Joe had spent hundreds of hours over seven years talking in intimate detail about his life, his pain, his fears, and his dreams. She knew everything about him. He always felt he was in a relationship with this intelligent, caring, older woman, yet he knew next to nothing about her.

"Were you born here?"

"No. I was born in New York. I came here for college and fell in love with this little city. Providence is so much more manageable than Manhattan."

"But New York is so... amazing."

"It's not all good. It's amazing in bad ways too."

"Tell me about it." Joe nodded. "I just spent a hot, stinky summer there. Where did you grow up?"

"The Lower East Side. Do you know where Katz Deli is?"

"I was just there! I love that place." Joe sat up, happy with this coincidence. "And Tina is crazy for Economy Candy."

Dr. Nichols' face lit up. Joe loved her smile, and her eyes were so expressive. "When I was a girl, that was my favorite place in the whole world. I grew up on Essex Street. I have a serious sweet tooth. It's a problem."

"Tina does too. We went to Economy right after gorging ourselves on the deli. She made herself sick. She has the sweet tooth of a five-year-old."

"Me too." She placed her hand on her tummy. "I have to be careful."

"You seem to be managing it," Joe smiled. "You look fabulous."

Dr Nichols' smiled, then exhaled. "Thank you. Let's get this session back on track."

"Because I complimented you? This is fun. What's your favorite candy? I need to know."

"Honestly. I like them all, but if I had to choose I'd go with cream-filled chocolates or chocolate-covered almonds. I love chocolate-covered cherries."

"So, you're a chocolate-covered anything girl."

She blushed, "I suppose I am."

That blush made Joe very happy. "You just blushed like a little girl," he smiled.

"Okay," she nodded. "I see what's happening here. I'm talking to the Joe the young ladies like so much. You can turn it off now."

"Turn what off?"

"The charm."

"I'm just enjoying this tiny glimpse into your life. That's not a bad thing."

"But that's not why you're here. This is about you, not me."

"It can be about whatever we want it to be," Joe smiled. "I noticed you haven't written any notes. What's up with that?"

Dr Nichols exhaled again. "Technically, you're not my patient any longer. I gave you this appointment because I had a cancellation and I was curious about how you're doing." She shifted her bottom in her chair again. "But I also wanted to refer my colleague again." She opened her notebook, removed a card, and held it out for him.

Joe took the card and glanced at it. "Marvin Wientraub, again." He looked up, meeting her eyes. "You're really trying to dump me on this guy, aren't you?"

"No. I'm giving you a resource, a man I respect who could help you on the next leg of your journey."

"Yeah, well. I'm afraid I'm traveling the next leg solo."

"No, you're not, Joe. You have your parents, and your sisters, your friends, and you have Tina. Marvin is a wise man who could help you navigate... if you wish."

As the session wound down, Dr Nichols didn't end with her positivity closer. She simply told Joe that she was proud of him and happy that he had found love. Then Joe mentioned that he was no longer on his Dad's insurance.

"So, I have to pay cash," he said.

"You don't have to pay."

"I'm not taking a freebie. You're a professional. I don't play gigs for free, and I never will. I insist on paying my way."

"Okay." She stood and went to her desk. Joe stood. She scribbled on a pad, tore off the top sheet, and handed it to him. He looked at the number.

"Wow. That's what you get for an hour?" He looked up. "I'm in the wrong business."

"That's discounted," she smiled. "I also enjoyed this visit."

Joe pulled out a wad of bills and peeled off a few. "I think my sister Jackie needs to look into this therapy game. She could do this, and get paid like you for good advice."

"You always say she is mature beyond her years."

"She is." Joe handed her the bills. "This feels weird," he said with an icky face. "Our relationship never felt transactional before."

Dr. Nichols accepted the cash. "It always was, Joe. You were simply shielded from that reality. That doesn't mean I don't care. Yes, this is a business, but it's a deeply personal transaction. I am invested in my patients, and you are one of my oldest and dearest."

"And that's why I will never have another therapist. I have no interest in starting over, and no one could possibly understand me as well as you."

"Thank you, Joe. Those words mean more than you know. If you ever wish to meet Dr. Wientraub, let me know. We could do a session, the three of us, to make the transition easier. I believe you would like Marvin."

"Yikes," he winced. "I can't imagine what tag-team therapy would set me back."

Dr. Nichols smiled and extended her hand. "Goodbye, Joe., and good luck. I wish you well."

Again, Joe took her by surprise by using her hand to pull Barbara Nichols in for an embrace. He held her close, breathing in her perfume. "Thank you. You're the best."

---- ROUTE 95 ----

In the days leading up to the I-95 road trip, Joe spent his days at the garage, keeping an eye on things. Johnny was in and out and seemed okay. Joe wondered where he disappeared to at times. He hoped it was his clinic. The band did some light jamming on new material. A week later, he phoned Tina from Portland, Maine.

"I miss you too," he said. "but I have to take care of business. We have eight gigs in twelve days and then I'll be there for ten days."

"I hate sleeping alone."

"How many times are you going to tell me that?"

"It's what I think about every night when I'm getting ready for bed. My bed's too big without you."

"Okay, Sting. Do you want to hear about our new club?"

"I guess."

"It's a very strange venue. The Crow's Nest is right on the water. The bar is literally on the wharf with water under it. There's a side door behind the stage. When you step out, there's a forty-foot fishing trawler right there. We had to step over nets and fishing tackle to get our gear inside."

"How's the crowd? I'm guessing it's a bunch of salty old sailors."

"Yeah, there were some of those and their crusty wenches, but it was mostly younger people after eight o'clock. So many bars are like that. The day drinkers are old and the nightcrawlers are younger. It was a good crowd."

"Where to next?"

"A new bar in Hampton Beach, New Hampshire, and then Boston... straight down I-95 all the way to you."

"What night of the week is your show in Queens? I want to go to that one because I have friends at The Metro."

"We play Tommy's on Friday, Queens on Saturday, then two days off before we do The Belmont and Gravesend."