Any help/comments from you guys would be great. Pre-apologies to anyone offended by the mature/extreme content.
Sometimes, no matter where you are or what you’re doing, a song can come on and hold your entire brain hostage. Images flood through you like a busted dam and all you’re able to do is remember. For me, right now, that song is The Joker by the Steve Miller Band and all I can see is cocaine and Evangelists.
I’m sixteen. It’s 2006. I’m sitting cross-legged on the ground of a circular, high-ceilinged room with huge panoramic windows looking out over the ridiculously beautiful Princess Louisa Inlet of British Columbia. I’m high as shit from the cocaine I just did in the bathroom with my good friend, Michal. I look over at her, about six cross-legged teenagers away from me. Then I look at all of the other people in the room.
There’s about 200 of us with very minimal wiggle room. My heart rate spikes a bit as the reality of my inability to leave the amphitheater sets in. Boasting a few long, horizontal steps to provide stadium-type seating, people are situated behind, above, and all around me. The high wooden ceilings amplify the chatter and I begin to sweat and fiddle with my hands. I stare at an empty chair and mic stand on the stage, thinking about how I’m ready for someone to start talking to us about Jesus.
The lights dim and a sound begins to pour out of the speakers on the varnished, wooden stage.
“Some people call me the space cowboy, yeah.”
The chatter lessens a bit.
“Some call me the gangster of love.
Some people call me Maurice.”
Where do I know this song from? Ah, yes, 40-something stoners love this shit.
The song continues on and a brown-haired white boy no more than ten years older than me comes onto the stage with a solemn look on his face. He grabs the mic from the stand and sits in the chair as a spotlight focuses on him. He does not look up at the crowd. He looks down at the mic in his hands.
“I’m a joker.
I’m a smoker.
I’m a midnight toker.”
Someone in the sound room is fading the music.
“I sure don’t want to hurt no one…”
The music is cut and I’m experiencing silence and tension like I never have before. My knees are bouncing and my teeth are grinding, but I’m not worried about being found out. I could have ADHD, no one knows my medical history here.
Suddenly, the unidentified white male looks at the crowd with an “I used to be like you” face. Here we go.