My Aunt Lou (Hi there! I know you read this! You lurker.) used to be in this band called The Carbon Yard. They very much rocked. They were sort of garage band grunge before grunge actually happened. It sucks that everyone in Seattle stole their act.
I was very much a fan when I was about fifteen. It was just the coolest thing in the world, if you were a disgruntled suburban teen, to know people in an actual cool rock band in the city.
Actually, though, I think they lived in Oakland, which would be, well, NOT the city, but whatever.
I had this huge crush on this guy in the band, Randy, who, when I look at the pictures now, actually appears quite homely- but never mind. He was so, oh, I don't know, sensitive, you know? He reminded me of Heathecliff in Wuthering Heights- or whatever Bronte book Heathecliff is in. He seemed to have this hopeless crush on my aunt, who was older than him and disinterested, as far as I could tell. He was dark at brooding and drank a lot. And I was fifteen. There was this one night when we all were watching that movie, The Ruttles, and he sat next to me on the futon, and drank like, ten beers, and I didn't move, I didn't move! I couldn't! For two hours! I mean, Randy was sitting next to me, for Chist's sake! RANDY!
His name probably isn't even Randy.
I seem to also have this memory, which may be this sort of false made up memory, for all I know, of my cousin Allie- who was about ten at the time- erecting a giant poster of Randy in the club house, and worshipping it with her stepsister, Erica. They were kneeling in front of it, bowing down, and giggling hysterically. I could be completely making this up. I have no idea.