159 lines
8.1 KiB
Plaintext
159 lines
8.1 KiB
Plaintext
|
|
_
|
|
| \
|
|
| \
|
|
| | \
|
|
__ | |\ \ __
|
|
_____________ _/_/ | | \ \ _/_/ _____________
|
|
| ___________ _/_/ | | \ \ _/_/ ___________ |
|
|
| | _/_/_____ | | > > _/_/_____ | |
|
|
| | /________/ | | / / /________/ | |
|
|
| | | | / / | |
|
|
| | | |/ / | |
|
|
| | | | / | |
|
|
| | | / | |
|
|
| | |_/ | |
|
|
| | | |
|
|
| | c o m m u n i c a t i o n s | |
|
|
| |________________________________________________________________| |
|
|
|____________________________________________________________________|
|
|
|
|
...presents... Pariah '67
|
|
by Matt Brown
|
|
01/01/1997-#322
|
|
|
|
__//////\ -cDc- CULT OF THE DEAD COW -cDc- /\\\\\\__
|
|
Est. 1984 \\\\\\/ xXx BOW to the COW xXx \////// Est. 1984
|
|
|
|
__ _ _ __ _ _ __ _ _ __ _ _ __
|
|
|__heal_the_sick__raise_the_dead__cleanse_the_lepers__cast_out_demons__|
|
|
|
|
Brian looked up from his beer. I could tell it was gonna be a long one.
|
|
|
|
"Adie's story reminded me of a childhood memory. I was a basic crewcut
|
|
geekboy in grade school."
|
|
|
|
"Who coulda guessed?"
|
|
|
|
"Fuck off. Kids made fun of me for knowing stuff they didn't. 'Read?
|
|
Is that all you do?' they'd say. But I wasn't weak or wimpy or brainy-
|
|
antisocial enough to be the school pariah, the kid everybody picked on
|
|
unmercilously. That was this kid on the footbal team. Turns out his family
|
|
was all fucked. Drunk dad, that stuff."
|
|
|
|
I was looking around for someplace to escape to, but Brian droned on.
|
|
|
|
"First year junior high was wicked. Like _Wonder Years_ only with real
|
|
blood. See, I entered 7th grade on the cusp of change. The greasers were
|
|
phasing out, and didn't like it one bit. It was '67, and things were
|
|
starting to change. So the old wave made sure they got their last kicks in,
|
|
even though 9th grade boys didn't understand the dynamic. Not like I did
|
|
either, but I did realize about mid-year that there were fewer slick-haired
|
|
punks in the 7th and 8th, and caught the drift that a lack of pegged pants
|
|
wasn't going to make me an object of ridicule in years to come. I lived
|
|
through some of those 'gimme your milk money,' cigarette in the face, 5 on 1
|
|
beatings that sound like sitcom episodes now."
|
|
|
|
The stuff about 1967 had caught my ear while I was waving to Bagelboy,
|
|
hoping he'd come over and break up the Never Ending Story.
|
|
|
|
"I went out for football, totally clueless, in 9th grade. It was mostly
|
|
a size thing. I played second string tackle on offense and defense. If the
|
|
rookie linemen showed any degree of toughness, they were tolerated and even
|
|
given a shot at a rich boy every once in a while. I remember Antonelli
|
|
'missing' a block one time and..."
|
|
|
|
"Hey Brian, there's Janny! Let's check it out."
|
|
|
|
Brian wouldn't stop. "Being part of a team was a real shield from
|
|
harassment. It was knowing you had a place to belong, even if you didn't
|
|
really want to."
|
|
|
|
"Janny! Over here!" Rescue me, please, you foxy chaquita.
|
|
|
|
"Hi Brian. Whatcha doin'?" she said as she bounced over.
|
|
|
|
"Telling Honcho here about my sex life."
|
|
|
|
This got Janny interested, but didn't derail Brian as planned. He was
|
|
only warming up. Well, at least I could stare at her while pretending to
|
|
listen to Snoremeister. It sucks when you need a ride home.
|
|
|
|
"But enough background."
|
|
|
|
"Jesus Christ! You're just startin'?" I mumbled in disbelief.
|
|
|
|
Janny smiled. "Hush, this is interesting. I've never heard Brian talk
|
|
about football."
|
|
|
|
Christ, she's mooning over him. He's married, I'm not. This is fucking
|
|
embarrassing.
|
|
|
|
"Janny, wanna dance?" I try as a last-ditch effort.
|
|
|
|
"Maybe later. Go on, Brian."
|
|
|
|
"Here's the real story. Junior year, there was a kid, who went out for
|
|
the team. Now, this was a no-cut team; if the coaches didn't want you
|
|
around, they ran your ass 'till you quit; but they almost made an exception
|
|
in this kid's case. He wanted to be a running back, but he was so slow and
|
|
uncoordinated that they sent him to line the first day. He had a whiffle
|
|
when everyone else was growing long hair. He was an outcast in all respects.
|
|
The first day, doing sled drills, he stepped on his own hand and cleated
|
|
himself. He stood there, holding his injured paw, while three coaches and
|
|
the whole team laughed their asses off at him. Later, they tried him as
|
|
center of the fourth-string punt team, and they had to have him side-hike the
|
|
ball to get it back to the punter. But he stuck it out."
|
|
|
|
"I never ragged him. I never made fun of him, snapped towels at him,
|
|
made him wear his cup on his face, took a shit in front of his locker, filled
|
|
his shoes with Argo, put Atomic Balm in his jock, pissed on his leg in the
|
|
shower. None of that stuff. I didn't ignore him in the hall, or make fun of
|
|
him in front of cheerleaders."
|
|
|
|
"Senior year, I'm All-District. I find out that for a year and a half
|
|
he'd been telling people that I'm his best friend, we lift weights together
|
|
at his house and work out together down at the Y, that we double-date fer
|
|
christ's sake!! Hell I had never seen the kid outside of school. I had no
|
|
idea where he lived. I hated weight lifting."
|
|
|
|
"I could have confronted him, embarrassed him , beat the living piss out
|
|
of him, and everybody would have approved. I didn't. He had nothing else, I
|
|
guess. I knew what it was like to lie to escape ridicule. I still turn red
|
|
when I think about the time in 7th grade that I told an older kid my mother
|
|
has washed my hair the night before, and the lies I told to try to
|
|
rationalize it when he told every kid in the class."
|
|
|
|
"Your mother washed your hair in junior high! What a loser, Brian!"
|
|
|
|
"Shut up, Erik!" Janny looked gorgeous when she was a little pissed off.
|
|
|
|
"I might have even been secretly flattered that I was actually
|
|
somebody's idol, even though I usually felt like shit about myself. I always
|
|
think about this kid when my son comes to me and says, `Dad, these kids won't
|
|
leave me alone.'"
|
|
|
|
"Is that it? Man, that was sappy. Janny, how about a ride?"
|
|
|
|
She didn't hear me. She had her chin on her elbows, cow-gazing at
|
|
Brian. How does he do it! Puts me to sleep, and makes her cream her pants.
|
|
No hope. No justice. Me, I woulda messed that kid up good. Lyin' little
|
|
shit.
|
|
.-. _ _ .-.
|
|
/ \ .-. ((___)) .-. / \
|
|
/.ooM \ / \ .-. [ x x ] .-. / \ /.ooM \
|
|
-/-------\-------/-----\-----/---\--\ /--/---\-----/-----\-------/-------\-
|
|
/lucky 13\ / \ / `-(' ')-' \ / \ /lucky 13\
|
|
\ / `-' (U) `-' \ /
|
|
`-' the original e-zine `-' _
|
|
Oooo eastside westside / ) __
|
|
/)(\ ( \ WORLDWIDE / ( / \
|
|
\__/ ) / Copyright (c) 1997 cDc communications and the author. \ ) \)(/
|
|
(_/ Award-winning CULT OF THE DEAD COW is a trademark of oooO
|
|
cDc communications, PO Box 53011, Lubbock, TX, 79453, USA. _
|
|
oooO All rights reserved. Edited by Swamp Ratte'. __ ( \
|
|
/ ) /)(\ / \ ) \
|
|
\ ( \__/ Save yourself! Go outside! Do something! \)(/ ( /
|
|
\_) "THE COW WALKS AMONGST US" Oooo
|
|
|