it was doug miller’s birthday on saturday

and i woulda gone but i was flat on my back being attended to by a girl who wouldnta even been allowed to deliver the roses and whiskey that i would have sent with her since she’s isnt old enough to get into the club that hosted the fiesta.

doug and i go back to the KCSB days and i never knew that he was that much older than me because he had the same sarcastic wit and love for cheap cold beer served from kegs at pizza shacks disguised as restaurants. i will never be able to thank doug for making me feel at home at KCSB, for stopping me in the street and pointing at me and saying that he heard my show that morning (i was on 6-9am) and saying how good it was.

this was a guy who pretty much hated everything. the music that people played on the radio, the things we wrote about in the newspaper, the tshirts i probably wore. he was (and is, he’s 40, not dead) the protypical Punk: he made his own fashions, cut his hair the way he saw fit, sported a buzz cut and dark glasses. and his radio show was so good that before i made my way to bed with my girlfriend at the time, i would turn the radio on to hear if Doug’s rock show would be on.

i remember one night the plan was that me and my girlfriend were going to make beautiful love before calling it a night. i turned on the radio for some background noise and the noise was doug’s show and i asked my girl if it would be ok if we postponed the festivities until the show as over. and as she did her homework topless in the bed, i sat crosslegged staring at my clockradio with my hands on my chin, just as if it were the 50s, when doug was being born.

im sorry i missed the bash, but im glad that marc brown was there, and casey and some of the regulars of Spaceland. we have an american hero with our pal Doug and im glad that im not the only one who appreciates his presence.

the good people of ohio

have a bunch of rock stars invade their city this time of year for the rock n roll hall of fame.

for some reason im not a big fan of the rock and roll hall of fame.

i am happy that this year the ramones, and tom petty and the talking heads were allowed in, but it’s a weird hall of fame. the weirdest ive ever seen. seems to me that you should have to have a fist fight to get in. it also seems like no one is geniunely happy when they get in except for the old washed up blues singers who got all of their money stolen away from laywers and shady managers but who still have those golden pipes.

im still waiting until ac/dc and the replacements get it.

go to any sporting arena: major league baseball, football, hockey, basektball. they will play more ac/dc than any other band.

back in black is 22 years old for pete sake.

im at work.

the back is 85%, my good pal Ian has a grandmother with a medicine cabinet full of expired prescriptions. he made his way through them after he found out that my doctor sent me home without seeing me yesterday.

i had called Cinica Del Americas at around 11am yesterday, i said i would like to have a prescription for Vicadin. they said you had to see the dr first. i said ok. so i took a shower and brushed my teeth and hobbled over there with the aid of ashley who likes to wear super short shorts and cutoff shirts and big clompy shoes and her hair down when the sun is bright and warm like it was yesterday.

he helped me cross the street and go down the two blocks to the doctor.

get to the window and the women dont even want to look at me. they say, its too late. if you had been here before noon he could have seen you, but it’s after noon, he cant see you now till 4pm.

i saw a kid sitting on the chair next to his father. the father was looking at ashley. her little belly button was revealed. the little kid was making an outline of my posture and writing it in his book.

he wrote the first 7 of his entire life.

his father didnt even notice.

so we walked to wendy’s to have a sandwich. i got a bacon cheeseburger and “chips chili and cheese” which looks exactly like what nachos look like vomited up and collected in a plastic container.

it should be marketed as the first fast-food product guaranteed to look grosser going down, than it would coming back up.

we made it back home and ian came over with a collection of little plastic bottles of grandma love and after he left ashley did a little dance of good tidings and we fell asleep before even watching david letterman.

and here i am before you, not a girl, not quite a woman.