I was the Holden Caulfield of the 80s: which was a lot more fun. I used to hit juice bars at Medusa's with all grades of interesting, intellectual, lunatic fringe people. We, as punkers, were connected across districts, distances. Our friends didn't live next door: they lived next town.

I dated Catholic School Girls, mod babes, and hardcore punkers. I hung with SHOCK skinheads, like that black dude Sonny. Got chased by the cops in S. Side downtown scary neighborhoods. Partied at Medusa's when your car windows would get bashed in, parked in the streets.

The Cure was so new: so real: so vibrant: so different. They were so awesome. Just the greatest in my mind: ever.

I used to sleep out for tickets in High School for extra cash. Good money. My other job was dressing up as a gorilla in Naperville for a furniture stand. It was hot, but my boss (who ended up owing millions and going to prison for tax fraud) would buy me all you can eat crab legs lunches every day. He called me Goomba. Guess what? He still does.

I digress.

FUCK YOU LOSER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thanks RG. I edited that out and it's better now.

My original SOMB name should have been Goomba and never changed. But, alas, history has unfolded a different story.