The Summer of 82….I think. The Drugs where really kicking in around then, I think.
This red pickup truck drove by,, and the only two words that any of the redneck trash in Topeka came flying out of the window "HEY F@&&OT!". And my middle finger went up automatically. The human garbage behind the wheel of the truck was turning around in his seat, rubber-necking around to get a better look as he screamed at me, and so did the car behind him. The truck went over, jumped up the curb, and ran into a phone pole, and the car behind him slammed right into his rear-end, no brakes, because THAT driver was gawking at me and not paying attention to what was happening in front of him. It drive the truck further into the phone pole cracking it.
I laughed. Hard. I pointed, "YOU FUCKING IDIOT!!" and kept laughing, even as the redneck jumped out of his truck and spun around, getting his balance after slamming into the pole, and he ran towards me. I turned to ran, still laughing my ass off. Traffic came to a halt. I knew the neighborhood like the back of my hand, I knew every little short cut and alleyway, and gap between buildings. I ran around the Kwik Shop that used to be at 17th and Medford, down the alley and over the fence. I lost the redneck idiot. But I was basically back to where the truck was wrapped around the broken phone pole and a car was parked halfway up the trucks ass, and its driver was standing in the middle of the street throwing a tantrum. I saw me and started running towards me. But just then a cop rolled up on the scene, and I was off like a shot, back behind the gas station, and off down the alley, still laughing. I could hear the cop yelling at me to stop and come back.
I saw no reason to: It wasn't MY wreck, and it wasn't really MY fault that these redneck idiots would lose their shit anytime they saw a punkrock kid with a funny haircut.
Every single day it was something else: rednecks in pickups screaming at me and wanting to kick my ass, or jocks at school wanting to assert their dominant alpha-male entitled and privileged status. Old ladies at the store snarling and gasping in fear and anger. Full grown men having conniptions and screaming at me about how they "Didnt go to war in Viet fucking Nam just so you little freaky F@&&ots can prance around with that fucked up haircut". (Yeah, youre right, you didnt, you went 'cause you got suckered.) I remember THAT incident, its almost an anniversary of it: July 4th, 1982, the Collins Park PArade. A local neighborhood park and Parade that had started in the early 70s and grown. I was hanging out in the park with some friends, and my Brother John, some of them had dressed up as "Doogies" from Clockwork Orange, Brian MaGuire and Mark Volumt and Bill Volmut as well as Shawn Ames were there. (Brian MArk and I would eventually start The Klusterfux together, Bill, Shawn and John (And sometimes Mark) had a band called "The Rough Cuts". And basically we were goofing off as this 4th of July Neighborhood parade went on....with all of these people gasping and staring and freaking out over these Droogs, and Punk rockers ran around in the park. (I think Bill Volmut had a super-8 camera and was making a movie that possibly never got developed(?))