Before social media, there were scraps of paper you'd post up on trees and community bulletin boards. My friend Joey and I started a band one summer. I was 15 and he was 18. The only song we completed was entitled "Fetus Fishing" and I still remember the melody. We posted this flyer all over Atascadero, but never got a call. Go figure. We practiced in my parent's barn, which had a room my dad converted into a rock n roll chamber for me. Later, Joey and I would become roommates in Long Beach...and completely ended up hating each other. I "momed" him. He drew decapitated heads all over his room, then skipped out on the lease. But not before he and his crazy girlfriend (she was 30, moved in the night they met, and lived on SSI) posted their own flyers up at the local bars: Alex's, Ferns...all the places I went with my fake ID. "DO NOT SERVE HER. SHE IS UNDER 21!" The signs read, with my face plastered there for all to see. But the joke was on him. Because by that time I was in Blackpool with my friend at a 3-day punk fest, watching The Damned and eating onion and cheese sandwiches. When I came back, the house was destroyed, my boyfriend and I were sill broken up, and I never saw Joey again. Still have a fat stack of these bad boys, though. I can still relate to the person who wrote it.
Who among us doesn't need a drummer?