02.18.08
Long ago, in a galaxy far, far away…
My dear old friend Steve Niman just resurfaced and sent along some scans of old photos from The Day. This one is of my buddy Joe (left) and myself (with, um, accouterments and stylin’ Zero Boys t-shirt) taken, I believe, right around Thanksgiving of 1985 during our first trip back to Indianapolis after moving to the bizarre and overwhelming megalopolis of Chicago.
Joe and I spent a summer living on the streets of Indianapolis together, as a result of (and resulting in) a series of events far too long to recount here. We were part of a tribe of punk rock kids that became our collective family and fellow- and sister-travelers during a time that truly changed my life. (Someday I may get around to writing that book.) Joe and I both wanted out of Indy pretty much more than anything, and when I eventually got it together enough (thanks almost entirely to my dad) to move to Chicago and go to college, I was only too happy to have Joe ride my coat tails northward.
But imagine, if you will, going directly from a Huck Finn lifestyle, living free as can be and sleeping under the stars in the woods by the river, to a grey concrete jungle where you could never see the horizon and only the faintest hint of the Holy Sunset, weeping at its occlusion. It was a brutal case of culture shock, for true.
Joe and I are clowning for the camera, but in retrospect that’s pretty much what we must’ve looked like trying to adjust to the Big City. In the end, Joe didn’t last very long — he wound up moving back to Indy after a few months, joined the Army and got hitched in quick succession and then, after a series of personal tragedies, wound up vanishing somewhere in the far distance. Wherever he is, I hope he’s doing well.
Man. What an amazing time.
"joe" said,
February 19, 2008 at 10:54 pm
After years of practiced ludditism and general abhorition for all that is technical I “connect”, via some contraption floating about space, to beaming images and text of all that is in the world, only to find a big giant hollow hole of squirming toads (no offense to the toad), Until now. I did not know how to respond to the photo, let alone your always sharply accurate words, you’ve posted here for a good 40 minutes, while I went about the business of a roller coaster ride of emotion spanning 20 years (give or take). I have missed my brother more than anyone will ever know, except perhaps you. The space for people in my life has become small, but I never filled your spot and never will. Maybe we could talk. Love always Joe