A Note Don't Come Easy, chapter 1
My favorite part of Minority was the part where Billie Joe sung his heart out to the lyrics of "One light, one mind, flashing in the dark. Blinded by the silence of a thousand broken hearts, for crying out loud, she screamed onto me... " Minority had always been one of my favorite Green Day songs. There was just something surreal about their music, but I didn't know what. It just stood out amongst the crowd, and the rest of those artists who THOUGHT they could sing. I'm not gonna mention any 'cause that's just wrong. Their music was real to me; they talked about real things and had real meanings. Something which I hadn't been able to find in music before. Something that only I could see, and not the likes of my family. Their fingers were down their throat as soon as Green Day were in sight. None of them saw what I saw, which in a way was a good, because then my CD's would stay in MY room. The swearing on the tracks didn't help either, as a hearing of 'fuck' or 'shit' would mean absolute hell from my Mom. "Having a bit of a rebellious side are we now?" My uncle would tease when I'd had enough. They knew offending Green Day wound me up soooo much, and so I decided to take drastic action. Every time they wound me up, I wound them up and play Green Day full blast so the whole god damned street could hear it. The more I played it, the more they wound me up, and the more they wound me up, the more I played. It was a vicious circle.They just didn't want to know.
"Look Mom, Green Day!"
"Nope, I'm too busy watching the TV."
Fuck you then.
* * * *
It soon came to the time again when Green Day released tour dates, and was playing in a variety of venues across the world. This year, I begged and begged with my Mom to let me go, but it just wasn't happening.
"Mum PLEASE can I go?"
"No."
"PLEASE!"
"I'm not going to see a crappy band!"
I didn't want her to come with me so I don't know why she said that. It's not something I would take her to anyway. She wouldn't enjoy. I mean, would my Mom appreciate Billie Joe grabbing himself and stuff? Sure as hell I would, but she wouldn't. She'd be dragging me out of the arena before I could scream "Don't wanna be an American Idiot!"
She didn't understand. Nobody did. I was alone in this. I walked a lonely Road, the only one I had ever known. That's when I made a vow to myself to do something about it. I didn't know what, but I knew I had to do something. Even if it was just seeing them on tour, it was better then putting up with the disbelief from home.
* * * *
I had been thinking about it for a long time, but I just hadn't got round to putting my plan in action. There was this competition in Scoot, some American magazine I got through the post, to see Green Day on tour. All I had to do was turn up to this place and play a Green Day song on my guitar. The most entertaining one won tickets to their tour. Simple as that. There was one slight problem though. If you had forgotten, this was an American magazine, and somehow got the feeling the competition wasn't going to be in the UK. No. It was in America. How the hell was I going to get to America? I didn't have enough money to buy their new album, let alone a plane ticket! What the hell was I going to do? As you can guess, I didn't bother asking my Mom. Even though I had moved out of the house and into my own flat, I still felt weary about mentioning them in front of her. I managed to scrape together a couple of hundred quid, and before I knew it, I was hitchin' a ride to the USA! I didn't know where I was going to stay, but what ever I was doing it felt so right. For the first time in my life, I was out there, doing what I wanted to do, with my life. I couldn't help but smile.
* * * *
I knew this was too good to be true. It kinda felt like the baby Jesus story. There was no room for me in the hotels. Not one. Out of all the hotels in America, there wasn't room for me. Bullocks. I ended up the most expensive hotel ever, and my bank balance ended up suffering. Still, I couldn't complain. The serve was great and the hotel room its self was amazing. I felt as if I was breaking into a movie star's room. I had never been this lucky before. But it did feel great. I mean, it's not every day this happens is it? As soon as I opened my suitcase, my Green Day CD's, posters, books and clock were out. I couldn't leave them behind. I felt lost without them, and besides they were a part of me. I sat on the bed for ages and tried to think of what song I could play on my guitar. My guitar was old and scratched, it had been everywhere you could possible imagine. I didn't care though. It was good enough for me to play a little bit of Green Day on everyday. I couldn't decide on what song I liked best, and so decided to play them to see. I picked my guitar up off the floor and started to strum on the strings. My hands were sore and scarred from strumming, but I had gotten used to it. Basket case came first into mind, and so I started to play. I felt a vibe whenever I played. I moved on to play Macy's Day Parade when I heard a loud knock on the other side of the door. I paused to listen, and after a few seconds carried on. The knocking continued. I paused again, but still no noise from whoever was out there. So once again I continued to play. Another knock. I'd had enough. I threw my guitar onto the bed, destroying its even sheets and stormed over to the door to open it.
"For fuck's sake, can't I even just play a fucking-"
I cut myself short before I could embarrass myself more. My heart skipped a beat. It skipped many beats. My brain exploded inside of me, and I had suddenly lost my voice and all of my senses. I went to say something but I couldn't bring myself to do it. My whole body just felt numb.
"Look Mom, Green Day!"
"Nope, I'm too busy watching the TV."
Fuck you then.
* * * *
It soon came to the time again when Green Day released tour dates, and was playing in a variety of venues across the world. This year, I begged and begged with my Mom to let me go, but it just wasn't happening.
"Mum PLEASE can I go?"
"No."
"PLEASE!"
"I'm not going to see a crappy band!"
I didn't want her to come with me so I don't know why she said that. It's not something I would take her to anyway. She wouldn't enjoy. I mean, would my Mom appreciate Billie Joe grabbing himself and stuff? Sure as hell I would, but she wouldn't. She'd be dragging me out of the arena before I could scream "Don't wanna be an American Idiot!"
She didn't understand. Nobody did. I was alone in this. I walked a lonely Road, the only one I had ever known. That's when I made a vow to myself to do something about it. I didn't know what, but I knew I had to do something. Even if it was just seeing them on tour, it was better then putting up with the disbelief from home.
* * * *
I had been thinking about it for a long time, but I just hadn't got round to putting my plan in action. There was this competition in Scoot, some American magazine I got through the post, to see Green Day on tour. All I had to do was turn up to this place and play a Green Day song on my guitar. The most entertaining one won tickets to their tour. Simple as that. There was one slight problem though. If you had forgotten, this was an American magazine, and somehow got the feeling the competition wasn't going to be in the UK. No. It was in America. How the hell was I going to get to America? I didn't have enough money to buy their new album, let alone a plane ticket! What the hell was I going to do? As you can guess, I didn't bother asking my Mom. Even though I had moved out of the house and into my own flat, I still felt weary about mentioning them in front of her. I managed to scrape together a couple of hundred quid, and before I knew it, I was hitchin' a ride to the USA! I didn't know where I was going to stay, but what ever I was doing it felt so right. For the first time in my life, I was out there, doing what I wanted to do, with my life. I couldn't help but smile.
* * * *
I knew this was too good to be true. It kinda felt like the baby Jesus story. There was no room for me in the hotels. Not one. Out of all the hotels in America, there wasn't room for me. Bullocks. I ended up the most expensive hotel ever, and my bank balance ended up suffering. Still, I couldn't complain. The serve was great and the hotel room its self was amazing. I felt as if I was breaking into a movie star's room. I had never been this lucky before. But it did feel great. I mean, it's not every day this happens is it? As soon as I opened my suitcase, my Green Day CD's, posters, books and clock were out. I couldn't leave them behind. I felt lost without them, and besides they were a part of me. I sat on the bed for ages and tried to think of what song I could play on my guitar. My guitar was old and scratched, it had been everywhere you could possible imagine. I didn't care though. It was good enough for me to play a little bit of Green Day on everyday. I couldn't decide on what song I liked best, and so decided to play them to see. I picked my guitar up off the floor and started to strum on the strings. My hands were sore and scarred from strumming, but I had gotten used to it. Basket case came first into mind, and so I started to play. I felt a vibe whenever I played. I moved on to play Macy's Day Parade when I heard a loud knock on the other side of the door. I paused to listen, and after a few seconds carried on. The knocking continued. I paused again, but still no noise from whoever was out there. So once again I continued to play. Another knock. I'd had enough. I threw my guitar onto the bed, destroying its even sheets and stormed over to the door to open it.
"For fuck's sake, can't I even just play a fucking-"
I cut myself short before I could embarrass myself more. My heart skipped a beat. It skipped many beats. My brain exploded inside of me, and I had suddenly lost my voice and all of my senses. I went to say something but I couldn't bring myself to do it. My whole body just felt numb.
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