Page 12 of Behind the Lights

All of this was new to us, but we had a couple of kids in our eighth-grade class that got suspended for smoking it on campus. While we knew what it was, we’d never really been exposed to it firsthand. But it didn’t take long before someone passed a joint our way. We politely declined, and they didn’t ask us again.

As soon as Marilyn Manson hit the stage, our hands flew in the air, proudly turning our digits into horns and waving them wildly while screaming at the top of our lungs. By the time they played their final encore ofThe Beautiful People, I was wiped out. But there was no way I was missing my favorite band…Korn… Not on your life. To this day I’ve seen them perform live seven times.

We rushed to the bathroom, grabbed a bottle of water and did our best to get back to the front of the lawn area before they took the stage. This was it, I was finally seeing the main band I came to see. My heart was racing, I was tired, practically voiceless and yet didn’t give a shit. Korn was coming up and I was determined to sing along with the lyrics to every song they played. This was what I lived for, music.

When Fieldy’s bass pumped out those first few chords ofBlind, I got my second wind. Ricky and I looked at each other, screamed as loud as we could and then broke out with our air guitars and headbanged until we thought we’d vomit. This was un-fucking-believable. I was finally seeing Korn with my best friend and nothing else in the world mattered right now.

“Look at all you crazy mother fuckers out here tonight!”Jonathan Davis, Korn’s lead singer and front man screamed into his microphone.

He has the coolest fucking mic stand I’d ever seen. It was a naked lady with a head that looked like something out of the Alien movies. He was my idol, I wanted to be him so badly that it wasn’t even funny. We screamed along with the crowd, waving our horns in the air while impatiently awaiting his next words to the crowd.

“I hear some of you fuckers even camped out in the parking lot last night. In-fucking-sane. But we appreciate your enthusiasm and hope you enjoy the show,”he continued as the screams increased in volume. The chick behind us was up on her boyfriend’s shoulders flashing her tits as though Jonathan himself would be able to see them. Ricky and I laughed having just seen our first set of boobs.

“Alright, this next song is about our favorite pastime – sex,”he growled into the mic.

We screamed louder, knowing what song it was by that one, single word.

“I want all you mother fuckers to sing the chorus along with me.”

As he finished that last word, the band broke intoA.D.I.D.A.S.Our screams went unheard, blending in with the rest of the crowd, but we didn’t care. We heard them and that was all that mattered. But when he came out shortly thereafter playing the bagpipes and wearing his kilt, the crowd went freaking nuts. I’d heard he did this, but to see it firsthand was beyond stellar. The man was a musically gifted genius.

As soon as they finished with their second and final encore ofSomebody, Someone, we walked off to meet Brett and Uncle John. Our ears were buzzing, our bodies were beat, but our minds refused to shut down. We talked non-stop on the ride home, which due to the number of fans at the concert took us the better part of three hours to make. This night, would be forever ingrained in our memories. This night was the night that set our future aspirations in motion.

Chapter

Four

The following night, we were sitting at the dinner table at Ricky’s house talking to his mom about the concert. Well more, animatedly and loudly sharing while she laughed at our excited antics. At one point, we both started playing imaginary air guitars and rambling on about learning to play for real.

“If you boys want, I could ask Brett if he’d be interested in teaching you how to play. I know he gives lessons on the side,” she told us, as though it were nothing.

We dropped our forks shouting, “YES!” scaring the crap out of her.

“Okay, okay,” she raised her hands defensively in front of her, “I’ll call him tonight and see what he says.”

“We’ll do the dishes, so you can call him now,” Ricky told her.

We jumped up and started clearing away the dinner mess. Mary walked away, cracking up while we got busy loading the dishwasher.

“Guitar lessons would be sweet,” I said, rinsing off a plate and handing it to him.

“It’s like a dream of mine. After watching Munky play last night, I knew what I wanted to do. Could you just see it?” Ricky said, strumming the plate like it was a guitar.

“Yeah, what would be really cool would be to have our own band someday,” I said, staring off, picturing it in my head.

“Dude,” he gripped my shoulder, shaking me from my trance, “you had me at band. Say no more, we will do it.”

We finished washing up and ran into the living room. Mary was still on the phone, smiling and she looked so happy. When she spotted us, she told Brett she’d call him back later that the brigade had just arrived.

Ricky was bouncing on his heels beside me, I stood there with my hands buried in my front pockets to try and contain my nervous energy.

“Well, what did he say?” Ricky spit out as though it were one word.

“How is Thursday after he gets off work for your first lesson?” she tossed out.

Ricky ran across the room, tackling her on the couch. “Thanks, Mom,” he yelled, hugging her before running back to me.

“Um, we don’t have any guitars,” I regretfully reminded him.

---