All The Young Punks Pt. 39

--- Part 38 was posted in the romance category. I assume it's my error but honestly have no clue what happened. So annoying. ---

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---- 1982 ----

Joe sat in an unfamiliar chair in a familiar office. Doctor Barbara Nichols smiled as she took her seat across from him.

"I've been looking forward to this appointment, Joe. I hope there's not a major crisis in your life, but I suspect this is not a social call."

"No, it's not, but I can't say it's a crisis." He looked around. "I like your new furniture. What do you do with the old stuff?"

"They took it away. I bought that set when I started. I'd hate to say how long. It makes me feel old."

"You know what's funny? When I first came here, and for years, I saw you as an old person. I don't anymore. I don't know why."

"I believe becoming an adult with responsibilities tends to change our perspective. We're still the same number of years apart, but as years pass that becomes less significant as we share adult problems and experiences. You, the younger partner in this relationship, can relate more to me," she smiled. "the old lady."

Joe laughed. "Women never do that."

"Do what?"

"Call themselves old...unless they're really old. You're not old, and you look great."

"Thank you, Joe," she blushed a little.

That always made Joe happy. The moment he walked into her office all the feelings he had for Barbara Nichols came flooding back. She looked fantastic. Her dark hair had grown longer, below her shoulders, but she still had those big looping curls that she had to push to the side on occasion. He loved her knee-high brown leather boots and skirt, except for the fact they concealed the best legs on the East Side.

"What brings you here? What's going on in your life?"

Joe decided to field the second question first. He told Dr Nichols about his band recording two albums, the second just released, and the touring of college towns and college radio.

"I heard Sons Of Providence," she said. "It's very popular in this town."

"What do you think of it?"

"Well, I can't say punk rock is my thing, but I felt it was a genius move to write a song that endears you to your hometown. That song will live forever in Rhode Island."

"Thanks," Joe smiled proudly. "The funny thing is, that song was almost an afterthought. I felt I needed a couple more options for the first record, and then it became the name and theme of the album."

"I have a confession," she said. "I went to Victory Records around the corner to look at your album."

Joe smiled. "You did? Did you buy it?"

"No. I just wanted to look. You've come a long way, Joe. You achieved a big goal, and I was proud of you."

Now it was Joe's turn to blush, and Barbara enjoyed that as much as he enjoyed making her blush.

"I know it was long ago," she said. "but I must thank you for the wonderful gift you sent me. Those chocolates arrived on a day I was struggling. It was as if you reached out and made my awful day a good one. Thank you."

"How did I do, picking chocolates?"

"Everything was delicious. I had to limit myself. I would have devoured that whole box had I not. I kept it here so I wouldn't pig out at home watching HBO."

"I can send more."

"That's not necessary."

"Consider it done."

"How are you and Tina doing?"

Joe spent the next two minutes telling her how fantastic Tina was and how he was more in love today than he was when they first met. He gave her an update on his family, and then Joe got to the reason for his appointment.

"So, my sisters are fine, the band is good, and Tina is great. I should be happy, but I'm not."

"Is there a particular reason for your unhappiness?"

"I wouldn't say I'm unhappy. I just have things on my mind." He paused for a moment. "My friend Johnny died in November."

"Oh," her hand touched her heart. "I'm so sorry for your loss. Was it his addiction?"

"Yes. He overdosed and his junkie friends left him for dead. They even stole his leather and boots."

"I'm so sorry, Joe. Now I wish I could have seen you when you first called. Had you said it was..."

"It's fine. At the time I was dealing with Sal. He took Johnny's death very hard and I'm trying to..."

"He was in denial about Johnny's addiction. You and Sal fought over it."

"You recall that?"

"I did look at my notes before you came."

"Oh," Joe nodded. "Boning up for the exam."

"It's good to be prepared. So you and Sal are at odds again?"

"No, not really, but our friendship is difficult at times. He and I have issues. He and Johnny also had problems. They've known each other since diapers and I got the sense that Sal loved Johnny but Johnny didn't feel that way about Sal."

"And now Sal feels guilty about Johnny's death, and the circumstances?"

"Yes. So last month I had a talk with Sal, it was the week I called you. I was struggling to reach out. I know what it's like to lose someone you love and to feel responsible. And I..."

"You were never responsible for Janie's death."

"I know, but you can't tell my brain that. I know Sal is going to beat himself up. He's gonna be hard to live with, so I reached out and we talked."

"What did you say?"

"First I apologized for being cold towards him. I haven't been the best friend. Sal annoys me every day I'm with him. I've been holding this..." Joe paused. "I'll call it a grudge even though I don't feel that's what it is. I just have a hard time forgiving him, especially when he's a meathead making matters worse by being... well, a meathead. After Johnny died I felt I had to get past my bitterness. That's the right word. I had a lingering bitterness. I don't know if I..."

"May I interrupt?"

Joe nodded.

"I'm seeing the same thing I saw when Johnny was causing you pain. You put Johnny's well-being ahead of your band and your ambition. Now, you're recognizing Sal's pain, and while you have a difficult friendship you're trying to help him. Am I wrong?"

"I told Sal that Johnny's death will be a cross he must bear for the rest of his life. I explained how I went through it with Janie, this overwhelming feeling that I could have prevented her death. I still carry that cross but as the years pass, it's not as heavy a burden. Now I have a new cross and I..."

"Johnny? Why would you..."

"Because I didn't do all I could do. When we were in New York that first summer we stayed longer because I met Tina. I should have gotten him home the moment I realized he was on heroin."

"Hindsight will do that. You can't beat yourself up for decisions made when you may not have had all the information you have today. Johnny was a grown man. He's far more responsible for what happened than you or Sal."

Joe sat in silence for a moment. Dr. Nichols wrote on her pad for the first time. Last session she didn't have a pad in her lap.

"I said that to Sal. I basically blamed Johnny for everything by saying that from the beginning Johnny made his choices and he chose heroin over us, his friends, the band, and his family. He chose those fucking junkie scumbags who left him for dead over the people who cared for him."

"What did Sal say to that?"

"Nothing. I said that we would have to live with what happened but Johnny won't. He's free of the pain and suffering. It hurt saying this, but I told Sal that Johnny was selfish." Joe looked down at his lap, ashamed. "Then I promised to do better. I told Sal that I've been cold and distant and now that Johnny's gone I must let go of my grievances. I told Sal I'm sorry for blaming him."

"How did he take that?"

"The big meathead cried. The best thing was, I didn't. His dad cried. Pops was there, listening as he often does. He's a spy like my sisters. They both cried and I think we closed the book on Johnny."

"That's good, so why are you here?"

"Because I don't believe it. This is going to be hard for me. As much as I want to move forward I know myself too well. I will always have this cross and these feelings. I can coexist with Sal, but I don't always trust him. Without trust, it's hard for me to be friends... a real friend."

"Don't you see what you're doing here? Even with this self-doubt and the lingering mistrust, you still put Sal's needs first. You're helping him carry his cross by forgiving him... even when you don't feel total forgiveness. That will come with time."

"Unless he keeps on being a meathead."

"From what you've told me, I think that's who he is."

"I know."

"You're an empath, Joe. You feel the pain of others and you do what you can to ease their suffering. You did with the victims of bullies at school. You've always been this way with your sisters. You did it with Tina over her loneliness while you were on the road. And you put Johhny first." Barbara Nichols met Joe's eyes. "If you walk this world putting the needs of others ahead of your own, you will always be guided to the light." Dr. Nichols leaned in. "Just be careful that you don't do this at your own expense. Being caring and empathetic is wonderful, but don't hurt yourself by helping others."

Joe had no reply. He stared into Dr Nichols' eyes noticing they were glistening. She looked down at her notepad.

"Are you okay?" Joe asked.

"I'm fine," she reached for a tissue. "I'm just feeling a little emotion. You've grown into a fine young man, Joe. I'm proud of you and I guess I like to think I helped along the way."

"You absolutely did, in many ways. I know myself because you taught me to look inward. I know others because you taught me about..." he searched for words. "Mental illness and trauma and how to understand the motivations of others. Thank you."

"You're welcome. I'm happy to know you got that much out of this."

"I read a lot too."

"May I ask how Johnny's family is doing?"

"It's been hard. Some of his relatives blame us, the band, but not his dad. John Senior is the only one I care about. I respect him. He tried his best to help Johnny."

"And how is he coping?"

"I haven't seen him since the funeral. He's upset with me because I was supposed to see him at his office before I left town after the services. I wasn't feeling up to it."

"You could do that today."

Joe nodded. "I suppose."

Dr. Nichols looked at her calendar. "Today is the fourth. Your birthday is this week."

"Twenty-one," he said with a smirk. "You shouldn't be seeing me."

"Oh. About that. I have another patient, like you, who has no interest in starting over so I have a new policy. I will continue with patients who've been with me for years, on a limited basis. Also like you, she's doing okay considering her circumstances."

"Well, I hope I don't need you, but if I do it's good to know you're available."

"I'm always here for you, Joe."

Riding on the Ten Bus back to Federal Hill, Joe sensed something he felt not long ago in his hometown. Riding his old bus route made him feel small... like he was in high school again. He got off at Dean Street and walked to Bucci Real Estate.

An hour later he left the office wiping away tears carrying a guitar case. Inside was Johnny's red 1961 Gibson SG. John Senior insisted Joe have his son's favorite guitar. Joe could not accept it. John insisted. That evening he hung Johnny's SG on the wall of his bedroom. Later in life, it would hang in his own home. Joe would not play that guitar for many years.

--- ON THE ROAD AGAIN ---

Before the canceled Industrial Tour, Laura had a tour lined up for the weekend after Joe's birthday. They began 1982 with the second college tour, this one hitting schools in New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and western New York. They added nine new towns and venues, including a second club in Philly at University City and a bar in Princeton, NJ. Joe did college radio spots and the band held record shop events near each campus.

Early in that road trip, Nate pulled Joe aside while their bandmates flirted with girls at a bar in Bethlehem, PA.

"I really appreciate what you did for Sal. It meant a lot to me. He's been having a hard time. I think you having that talk kept him from going off the deep end."

"I know how he feels. I just wanted to let him know I'm here for him; if he needs to talk, or whatever."

"I know that wasn't easy for you. That's why I mention it. Thanks for putting the bad blood behind us. You're a good friend."

"Remember that the next time I piss you off."

Nate smirked, "You mean tomorrow? Don't you find it strange that it took Johnny's death to bring you and Sal back together again?"

"Let's not overstate it. But yeah, I feel his pain and I want him to know that."

After a short break in February, Laura had rebooked the Industrial tour, now sixteen factory venues including Baltimore and Youngstown, where Joe began questioning his turf expansion. It was a long route for so few shows. How far was far enough? How many venues do they need?

"We haven't played Barney's in ages," he said as The Minnow rolled into the Ohio steel town an hour northwest of Pittsburgh. "We're the furthest from home we've ever been."

"Are you finally realizing we have too many clubs?" Sal asked.

"Too many? No. Enough for now? Yes."

Late in the industrial tour, in Baltimore, Joe phoned Laura at AA to get updated on the next tour which was booked on the heels of this one.

"I think we're done looking for new venues. That Youngstown, Pittsburgh, Buffalo triangle of factory gigs is as far as I care to go for now."

"I have four new ones down where you are now, College Park, D.C., Richmond, and Virginia Beach. Do you want me to scrap them?"

"You've talked to the people?"

"Yes, and the first three are excellent college clubs."

"And a beach gig," he noted. Joe paused, thinking. "I'll make a deal with you. Since you did that work, let's hit those cities, but that's the end. We have enough for now."

"Thank you. I appreciate that. The lady in Richmond knows your band. She moved there from Massachusetts."

"If you can, book those late in the school year, around Memorial Day. We can play college gigs on the way down, and our beach bars on the way back. Virginia Beach will be the turn."

"I'll see what I can do."

"This is the end of the line for now. We have so many venues now I feel bad that we're not seeing our old friends often enough."

--- NIGHTS IN WHITE SATIN ----

When Joe did that second quick turnaround with little time off, there was a diplomatic crisis in the West Village. To make matters worse, Lana had suddenly and unexpectedly taken an internship in Washington D.C. She had her credits to graduate in June and only one class in the final semester. She took a position at an NGO that did disaster relief. Lana was a future do-gooder in training.

Tina was alone in New York with the band pounding the road, trip after trip. The tours felt longer and Joe's breaks were shorter.

"Lana won't even attend graduation," she whined on Joe's first night back in town. "It happened so suddenly. One minute she's telling me how happy she is to have an easy final semester, and the next she's running off to D.C."

"She had an opportunity and the freedom to take it. She had to go."

"I get that, but it doesn't make me feel better. I hate living alone."

"I think I heard a rumor that you hate sleeping alone too."

"Don't make fun of my loneliness."

"Then don't make it funny."

"Why is it funny?" She smacked his belly.

"You're whining reminds me of Jules. I always say you're flakey like Jeanie, and then you start whining and realize you're needy like Jules too."

"So you find the worst traits of your sisters in me?"

"I love you all, even with your whiny, flakey warts."

Tina rolled over, her back to Joe, and pulled the covers up. Joe stared at her back, smiling. This was ridiculous to him, the whining and pouting.

"My first night back and I'm already in the doghouse?" He poked her. "We just fucked. You were so happy I'm home and now I get the cold shoulder?"

"No," she pouted.

Joe leaned over and wrapped his arms around her. His lips brushed against her ear. "When I include you with my sisters in the same breath, take it as a compliment."

"Even when I'm ditzy and needy?"

"Especially then, because I love that you're goofy and I'm happy that you need me... just like my sisters." He kissed her ear. "Brrrr. Your shoulder is so frigid. That's right, I forgot. You're an art snob. The cold shoulder is in your genes."

Tina threw a hard elbow backward catching Joe in the ribs. "I'm not happy that you're making light of my situation. I'm not good alone."

---- 425 CUBIC INCH V8 ----

Joe walked into a Cadillac dealership not far from the Lincoln Tunnel minutes after they opened on a weekday morning in early spring. An older salesman lowered his New York Post, took one look at the young kid in leather, and went back to his rag. A receptionist asked Joe if she could help him.

"Yes, I'd like to buy a car please, today."

The salesman overheard him but did not budge. The receptionist whispered, "Sorry. He's an old crank. Let me get someone to help you." She paged Jake over the intercom. "You can have a seat, sir."

A young salesman, maybe late twenties with a baby face, walked into the showroom. The receptionist pointed at Joe.

"Hi, I'm Jake, can I help you?" He offered his hand.

Joe stood. "I'm Joe.' He shook Jake's hand. "I'd like to buy a Cadillac and drive out today." He paused. "I can do that, right?"

"Yes, you can, provided we can get financing arranged."

Joe smirked. Jake was working on the assumption a young punk, younger than himself, would need financial assistance. Joe spoke loud and clear so the old cranky salesman would hear him.

"Oh, I'll be paying cash, or a bank check, whatever works for you."

The older man set down his newspaper and glared at Joe who returned his look with his 'fuck you' smirk and turned back to his younger counterpart.

"I just left my bank," Joe said. "I was going to carry cash but they told me you would drive me over for a safer transfer of that kind of money." Joe looked at the older salesman again to make certain he got the 'fuck you' message. "What do I know? This is my first car."

"Absolutely. We can do that," Jake said with a smile, "Let's find you a car. We have new and used. What are you thinking?" He waved Joe on. "Walk this way."

"Honestly," Joe said with a wince, hoping to not offend. "The new styling sucks hard. I don't like the chopped-off trunks. I'm looking for a seventies model, maybe lightly used by some old fogie. A convertible would be fantastic."

Joe gave the old man the side eye as they passed his desk on their way to the back of the showroom. 'You lazy fuck,' he thought as he followed the kid, happy Jake would get the slam dunk sale and commission.

"We have a '78 Eldorado. A long-time customer buys a new car every four years. It's in creampuff condition. He takes excellent care. I think it has like 28,000 miles on it." Jake opened a door to the back lot. "He barely used it in the city but drove it to Boca and back a couple of times a year."

"Let's look at that one first. I love Eldorados."

Jake whispered as the door closed behind him. "I agree with you on the new body style. Downsizing Cadillacs should be a crime. Who wants that?"

"Not me," Joe said. "I want a big boat, a real fucking Cadillac."

"We have a few convertibles, so you're good there. One is a cherry '72 Deville but it has high miles."

"Oh my god, a '72 Deville convertible? This might be a tough choice."

"So, you're a Caddy guy?"

"Big time. My Pepere drove one. When I was a kid we'd climb on the back of the seat and lie under the rear window glass, all the way to the beach. It was huge. My bandmate's Dad has two Caddies, and my business partner has a gorgeous Brougham." Joe met Jake's eyes as they walked across the lot. "I love Cadillacs."