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Array
(
[sid] => 60691
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Members Only
[time] => 2004-08-19 11:21:48
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => After school climb the old bare wood stairs up the musty hallway, step over the clutter, clothes piled on the landing three steps below the wall, sheet rock, ply wood and paneling, held together by rusty nails, framed by recycled two by fours. A yellowed bed sheet marks the doorway, the attic, a dark room, a slanted ceiling, closed in, a blacked out window beneath the apex. Psychedelic paintings, rock and roll posters, bits and pieces of misshapen concave and convex mirrors hung on the walls enhance the décor. Black shag carpet remnants cover the floor, a weathered mattress and box spring lay in the corner, across a disheveled love seat wedged against the wall its legs lopped off. Milk crates for chairs, a large wooden cable spool, courtesy of LILCO, for a table. The television sits atop an antique dresser, drawers for storage. Record albums, bongs, rolling paper, candles, legal and illegal paraphernalia. A quadraphonic system lies hidden, a camouflaged cabinet built into the wall, four speakers hung in each corner of the room, wrap around surround sound heightens the senses, strobe and black lights flash and candle flames dance. A crazy odd collage of shade, shape and color, a mix of outlaw cool and offbeat wild. Our fun house, our place, our launch pad to blast off, get high or lay low, groove to tunes, drink beer, pop pills and smoke pot before we’d hang out in the strip mall parking lot. Our heaven, our Olympus gods of our domain we could look down on police, politicians, parents and teachers, petty rules and regulations, contrived to control and constrain us, up here we are high above it all. And hung on the wall an old wooden STOP sign, names, initials and symbols carved into it. An official ledger, an autograph record, a membership list of this private club, all those who passed by, passed through, passed on and passed out. Once you signed in, you were on the outs with authority and society. You become one of us, one of the people your parents warned you about. [comments] => 6 [counter] => 167 [topic] => 43 [informant] => pvd [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 14 [ratings] => 3 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
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