Читать книгу Blackouts and Breakdowns - Mark Brennan Rosenberg - Страница 5

Nancy Reagan was right. Marijuana is the gateway drug. Even though she had stolen Ronald Reagan away from my beloved Jane Wyman, star of the greatest show ever on television, Falcon Crest, Nancy hit the nail right on the head when she told everyone to say no to drugs. But when you are in high school and everyone else is doing it, it just seems like the thing to do. Had I just said “no”, it would have saved me a lot of time experimenting with drugs in college while I was trying to “find myself.” I have heard very few people have found themselves while they are face down in a pile of cocaine, but that’s just me. Needless to say, my high school years were filled with smoking weed and carrying on like a complete moron.

I first attempted to smoke weed with my friend Maureen, who I had known for quite a few years. She invited a few of our friends over to her house for a “pow-wow.” We were all going to smoke weed out of a peace pipe and get to know each other better. The first time I smoked, I didn’t feel much, but sure enough, after a few more tries, I was high as a kite. I loved the feeling of getting high. It was as if nothing else in the world was going on when you were high. You’re just floating on a cloud, watching everything go by in slow motion. A few months after I first tried smoking, I was a full-fledged pothead. I would skip class during the day and drive around with Maureen and the rest of our friends and get high and eat a lot of junk food. It was a great way to spend the last few months of high school and since I had already managed to get into a good university, I didn’t really care anymore. Life was good for now and I was going to enjoy it before adulthood really began.

My best friend in high school was Evelyn. She was a Russian Jew, who had dark skin and everyone always assumed she was a Mexican or half white and half black, but she was just plain old Russian Evelyn. Evelyn was a little more conservative than I was. She did not always take the chances that I took and always thought long and hard about what her next move in life was going to be. I was a free spirit and just went along with whatever seemed fun at the time. But Evelyn would always chime in and let me know what the difference between right and wrong was and that I was usually making the wrong decision. The two of us had been inseparable in high school. We did pretty much everything together and I truly loved her as a fag-hag. She, of course, did not know she was a fag-hag at the time, but she was a little heavier theatre geek and I was her scrawny ABBA loving soap opera fan. If that isn’t a fag/fag-hag relationship than I don’t know what is. The two of us had befriended Stephanie Buck, who was a blonde airhead with a heart of gold and the three of us were like the three musketeers. The three musketeers who; were high most of the time. Our last year of high school was spent smoking weed, singing ABBA and show-tunes and driving around causing trouble wherever we went.

One night before Christmas of our senior year of high school, Evelyn and I were driving around, smoking a blunt, waiting to pick up Stephanie from a family dinner. Somewhere along the way, we made a wrong turn and Evelyn and I found ourselves lost.

“Where the hell are we?” Evelyn asked.

“Doe Lane,” I replied.

“Doe?”

“Yea, as in a deer, a female deer.”

“Oh, gotcha,” she replied. Of course, we had to bring it back to musical theatre. We drove around but still could not figure out where we were. Evelyn made another right turn, this time onto Buck Lane.

“Look Evelyn,” I said. “We’re on Buck Lane. Wouldn’t it be funny if Stephanie lived on Buck Lane. Then she would be Stephanie Buck of Buck Lane. Ha, ha, ha,” I laughed as if what I had said was the funniest thing she had ever heard. It wasn’t. Shortly after, we found Stephanie’s house and entered. All of her family had been there for a holiday dinner and everyone was pretty loaded.

“Hey Stephanie,” I said looking like Cheech. “Did you know there is a street called Buck Lane?”

“No shit,” Stephanie replied. “That’s awesome.”

“Yea, it’s right around the corner.”

Stephanie’s uncle who had had about fourteen too many cocktails overheard our conversation and chimed in: “Stephanie, go steal the Buck Lane sign and bring it back to the house.”

“What? Uncle Pete, you’re crazy,” Stephanie replied. I, on the other hand, thought this was an amazing idea.

“Come on Stephanie, let’s go steal the Buck Lane sign. It will be funny.”

“I don’t know about that guys. What if we get arrested?” Evelyn, the ruiner of everyone’s fun said.

“No one is going to get arrested,” I said. “Don’t worry. It will be fun.”

Stephanie, Evelyn and I grabbed some tools out of Stephanie’s garage and got in the car in hopes of stealing the Buck Lane sign. We drove back to Buck Lane and parked the car.

“Ok Mark, get the sign,” Stephanie said.

“Why do I have to steal the sign? My last name isn’t Buck,” I replied.

“Because it was your idea jackass,” Evelyn replied.

Evelyn and Stephanie sat in the car as I climbed on top of it, tools in hand, ready to pry the sign off of its hinges. Shortly after I got on top of the car, I realized that it was Stephanie’s drunken uncle’s idea to steal the Buck Lane sign, not mine, but I was already on top of the car so I just continued. I used the wrench to try and unhinge the sign, but it would not budge. I then tried to use the hammer we had brought to hammer it off, but that did not work. I had never used either a wrench or a hammer before in my life and was not really sure what I was supposed to do. I banged on the sign with the hammer a few more times but nothing happened. I climbed off the car and got back inside.

“I can’t get it off,” I said, “It won’t budge.”

“I guess we are going to have to forget about it then,” Evelyn said.

“No!” I yelled. “I am getting the Buck Lane sign if it’s the last thing I do.” I was now determined to steal this sign. I gathered myself and got back on top of the car, tools in hand, ready to get the sign. The livelihood of the Buck family depended on it. I hammered away at the sign again but nothing happened. I used the wrench to try and unscrew the sign from the pole it was on, but nothing happened. It was dead-bolted and wasn’t going anywhere. I got back into the car.

“I don’t understand why you are so determined to get this f-ing sign,” Evelyn exclaimed.

“Because you have put this idea in my head now and I want it!” I replied. The truth was, I really did not care, but I was high enough and the idea was in my head so as far as I was concerned, it was the only thing on my agenda for the rest of the evening.

“Cars keep coming by and looking at you standing on top of our car trying to steal this sign. Maybe this isn’t the best idea after all,” Stephanie chimed in.

“Whatever, bitches. Drive down the street so I can try and steal the other Buck Lane sign,” I said.

Evelyn drove down the street to where the other Buck Lane sign was located. Again, I got on top of the car and tried to rig the sign off of its latches to no avail. I got back in and felt totally defeated. I had the thought of stealing this sign in my head and nothing would make it go away.

“Oh well,” Stephanie sighed. “Maybe it wasn’t meant to be.” Evelyn started the car and we drove away from the Buck Lane sign. As we drove down the street, I could not help but notice everyone’s lawns were decorated quite nicely with Christmas decorations. Suddenly, as I continued smoking a blunt, I had an epiphany.

“Evelyn, stop the car!” I yelled. Evelyn’s car came to a complete stop. “Fuck the Buck Lane sign, let’s steal Christmas decorations off of people’s yards.”

“Oh, Mark I don’t know about that,” Evelyn said, “What if we get caught?”

“We won’t get caught. It will be fun. Let’s drive around and try to steal decorations. It will be hilarious.”

It took a few minutes, but I finally convinced the girls that it was the most brilliant idea I had ever had. We had smoked a lot of weed and anything from an impromptu trip to New York or opening up a brothel would have sounded like a good idea. Evelyn drove down the street and we pulled up to a house that had a full on cardboard cutout nativity scene on their lawn.

“I bet I can steal the Baby Jesus,” I said.

“I think that’s sacrilegious. Isn’t it?” Stephanie asked.

“I think it’s pretty much like slapping God in the face or something,” Evelyn said.

“Whatever,” I replied as I hopped out of the car. I crept onto the lawn of the unsuspecting family’s home. They had a full on nativity scene going on, complete with animals and wise men, but it was the manger with the Baby Jesus that I had my eye on. I crept closer to the scene and saw that the family was sitting in their home, around a piano singing Christmas carols. All of a sudden, I was literally the Grinch who stole Christmas. I crept over a wise man and around the sheep, keeping one eye on the family inside to make sure they could not see what I was doing. As I made my way around the nativity scene, I knocked over the Virgin Mary. Thinking I had little time, I left her there and made a break for the Baby J. He looked so cute lying in the hay. I grabbed him and ran back to Evelyn’s car. I could hear Evelyn and Stephanie laughing uproariously as I made a beeline back to the vehicle. I hopped in and Evelyn sped away, laughing all the way.

“Oh my God, that was the funniest thing I have ever seen!” Evelyn said as she high-tailed it down the road.

“I have never laughed so hard,” Stephanie replied. “I want to try. Let’s find another nativity scene.”

“This time, get a light up Baby Jesus,” I said. “My Baby Jesus wants a brother!”

We could not find another nativity scene until we passed a church.

“Is it bad to steal from a church?” I asked.

“Yes!” Evelyn and Stephanie said in unison.

I, however, convinced Stephanie that it was not, in fact stealing, but borrowing as we could always return him. I told her that if she took the Baby Jesus from the church, we could give it back and say that we stole it because we were doing research for school. She somehow bought it and got out of the car to steal the other Baby Jesus. She went up to the nativity scene and tried to steal it, but this was a light up Baby Jesus and there were cords involved. Stephanie ran back to the car in a fury.

“I think there was a nun or something in the bushes. I heard some rustling.” Stephanie said as she got back into the car.

“Stephanie, I don’t think nuns hang out in bushes. I think they fly or something,” I replied.

“There were cords. The Baby Jesus was connected to Joseph and so on. I could not untangle them. It is going to take a few minutes to get everything unconnected.”

“Whatever Stephanie, let’s try another one.” I said.

Evelyn drove around as we looked for another Baby Jesus to steal, but there were not many around, as we must have wandered into a Jewish neighborhood. Finally, I decided that we needed to ditch the Baby Jesus idea and just start taking whatever we could find. There was a treasure-trove of Christmas decorations that were ripe for the taking. Evelyn pulled up to a home that had a black Santa Claus on its lawn.

“Oh my God, I want that for my bedroom!” I said as I got out of the car. I had in fact always wanted a Black light up Santa Claus for my room but was too shy to buy one for myself so I figured I might as well just steal one. I crept onto the lawn where the Black Santa was surrounded by reindeer and looking extra jolly. I unplugged him from his outlet and brought him back into the car. Again, Evelyn and Stephanie were giggling like schoolgirls as they watched in awe as I stole the black Santa from his home. When I got back into the car, black Santa in tow, I decided his name was going to be Jerome. That night Evelyn, Stephanie and I had not only stolen a Baby Jesus and Black Santa, but a light-up Frosty the Snowman, garland off of someone’s fence, ornaments off of trees, Christmas lights, a potted planter that looked like a swan that had nothing to do with Christmas but we thought it would be fun to steal anyway and a huge cardboard snowflake.

It was like we had gotten a high off of all of the goods we had stolen off of people’s yards. Not knowing what to do with all of our merchandise, as our parents were sure to question where it all came from, I decided to leave it at the Starbucks that I worked at for safe keeping. I was one of the managers at the time, so I had a key and let myself in to drop off the goods. I scattered my goods throughout the Starbucks, leaving the Baby Jesus right by the cash register so everyone could bask in his glory as they were paying for their coffee.

The next morning, my co-workers were stunned to see my loot throughout Starbucks but thought it was hilarious nonetheless. In fact, they thought it was so funny that someone drew a cup of coffee in the hand of the cardboard cutout of Baby Jesus and wrote “God Bless Starbucks” underneath it. Everybody loved the Baby J. He was like our new mascot.

That evening, Stephanie, Evelyn and I met again, with full intentions for stealing a light up Baby Jesus. We got into Evelyn’s car, smoked a few joints and were on our way. We drove around the suburbs looking for a light up Baby Jesus. Since the employees of Starbucks had defiled our cardboard Baby Jesus, we had to move on and find something that would last forever. Our thievery had bonded the three of us and we were as thick as thieves now, literally. We drove around but could not find a light up baby Jesus. I resolved that we should go back to the church we had gone to the night before and try to steal the baby Jesus from there.

Evelyn pulled up to the church. All was quiet as I hopped out of the car on ready for my mission. I crept onto the lawn of the church looking for any nuns that may be hiding out in the bushes. Baby Jesus was in eyeshot and I made a beeline for the nativity scene. Once I got there, I could see why Stephanie had so much trouble the night before. There were cords everywhere and navigating where each cord went was like making your way through a labyrinth. I managed to find the outlet, unplugged the Baby Jesus, grabbed the cord, and tossed the Baby J under my arm and ran back to Evelyn’s car. When I got into the car, Evelyn and Stephanie were laughing so hard, I thought they were going to throw-up.

“Oh my God!” Evelyn said through her laughter, “that was the funniest thing I have ever seen.”

Stephanie was laughing so hard that she could not even speak.

“It was like you were carrying the Baby Jesus…” Evelyn continued laughing hysterically, “like…” she was laughing so hard, I didn’t know if she was still breathing, “a FOOTBALL!” She finally cried. I don’t know if she thought it was funny because it was a Baby Jesus I had under my arm or that fact that it was the closest I had ever come to actually looking like I had ever played a sport.

The three of us sat in Evelyn’s car and laughed hysterically for the next few minutes. Happy with my latest conquest, I put the Baby Jesus on my dining room table and told my family that he was going to be our centerpiece for Christmas dinner that year. A few days later, Evelyn called me and told me to pick up the town newspaper because she thought I would get a kick out of it.

I went to the corner and picked up the newspaper. I flipped through it until I got to the section where the headline read: “THE TRUTH ABOUT THE MISSING BABY JESUS.” My mouth dropped. I had finally made it into the newspaper, except, no one knew it was I who had stolen the Baby Jesus. The article chronicled the night that the Baby Jesus went missing from the local church and what they thought happened. They even had a reward for anyone who knew his whereabouts. Thinking my cheap brother might turn me in for cash, I knew I was going to have to put the Baby Jesus into seclusion. I laughed because I thought it was funny, but the people at the church were outraged by what had happened. Evelyn, Stephanie and I decided never to steal again, but that Christmas was one of the most magical times of my life.

Where Are They Now?

The Baby Jesus – The Baby J and I had a long lasting relationship. He came to New York with me, when I moved up there. He stayed with me in every apartment I moved to until his light bulb blew out, almost causing a small fire. I ended up throwing him away.

The Black Santa – My little brother Kevin took care of the Black Santa for many years until he went to college and it was destroyed at a keg party.

The Potted Swan – The potted swan enjoyed a long career in my front yard, until it too was stolen, possibly by its rightful owners.

Frosty – Frosty enjoyed a long holiday career of entertaining the children on my father’s front yard. When my father realized he was Jewish, he threw Frosty away.

Evelyn – Evelyn lives in Astoria, Queens in a building that is always decorated with Virgin Mary’s and Baby Jesus’ come Christmas time. I have tried stealing them on several occasions, but she will never let that happen.

Stephanie – Stephanie now lives in Tampa and I think she is bisexual.