Intemperance Volume 2 Standing On TopChapter 6A
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They finished up the basic composition of the song. It actually took about two hours to do. Jake was allowed to dictate how the intro would be performed, how the chorus to bridge section would be played, and how the final ending would occur. The other musicians played as Jake wanted them to play, with only Nerdly making a few minor suggestions that had to do with tempo changes and timing. Matt kept his comments to himself and played his guitar expertly, just as he always had.
"You see?" Nerdly asked them when they had finally finished, written down their changes on the music sheets, and successfully run through the piece twice. "It is possible to work together despite the recent clash of egos and hard feelings."
"Right," Matt said. "Now how about we start the next song? We still have three hours left in this session.
The next song they decided to work on was called My Life. Written by Matt a few months before — before all the shit had seriously started to hit the fan — it was an intelligent, well-constructed piece in which Matt pontificated about the lifestyle of a hard-partying rock star in first person perspective. In the verses, he talked about his expensive house and his expensive car and the fact that he could no longer drive his expensive car because the state had revoked his privilege to do so. He talked of getting wasted and having any woman he desired just because of who he was. He talked about being worshiped by fans and how he sometimes liked this and sometimes wanted to hit them. The chorus sections of the song all started with my life is... and then used a variety of other lines to illustrate that point. For instance, the first chorus, after Matt's house and car and life of luxury were described, was:
My life is lavish. Yes, I'm better than you
Money? No object. Got no bills overdue
Got more rooms in my house than I ever could use
Got servants, got limos, can afford substance abuse
And the second chorus, after the verse describing Matt's wild sexual abandon and constant womanizing, was:
My life is sleazy; can have any bitch I want
Models, groupies, porn stars; I've screwed Miss Vermont
The mile high club? Got a gold member's card
The bitches want me, I use 'em, and then I discard
In general, Jake liked the song. It was fairly classic Matt Tisdale work in lyrics and was actually a step forward for him in musical composition. The basic musical backing for the lyrics started with a medium tempo power riff on Matt's guitar and backing by the acoustic sound of Jake's. Unlike most of Matt's songs — and most Intemperance songs in general — the rhythm guitar would not be playing all the time. It was to be mostly silent during the verses and would kick in strongly in the spaces between the verses and the chorus and feature strongly in somewhat of a dueling format during the instrumental portion after the second verse.
"I like it, Matt," Jake told him after Matt led them through it the first time — singing into his own microphone and playing unaccompanied on his guitar — and then explained the basic backing philosophy he was after. "I think it'll pound out really good."
Matt didn't acknowledge the praise. "I'm gonna go through it again," he said instead. "Let's start working the drums and bass in for the basics and then we'll work on the acoustic and piano later."
"Right," Jake said. "You want me to start singing it?"
"No, not yet," Matt said. And with that, he hit the first riff again.
Things went fairly smoothly for the rest of that day and they departed the warehouse, not exactly on good terms, but at least without cursing at each other. The problems started up again early the next day when it came time to start working on the transitional portions of My Life — the part that involved Jake's rhythm guitar and Nerdly's piano. Every time Jake or Nerdly would suggest some way of putting their instruments into the song, Matt would automatically veto it.
"I don't want a fucking G to F switchover in this part," he would tell Jake. "I want a fucking D major to C major alternation, just like I fucking wrote it."
Or when Nerdly would suggest an enhancement of the basic piano rhythm Matt had laid down, he would bark: "We ain't doing no fucking flourishes in this song. Just play the goddamn notes like I told you to."
Matt seemed to think that Jake and Nerdly were trying to take over his song when, in reality, they were simply trying to do what they'd always done on every Intemperance piece dating back to the pre-D Street West days. They were offering simple suggestions based on their musical knowledge and talent — the sort of things that had always enhanced their music in the past and made it what it was. When Jake or Nerdly or even Coop tried to explain this to Matt, however, he wanted to hear nothing about it.
"This is my fucking song!" he would yell. "Just like Cut Me Loose was Jake's fucking song! We will play my song my way. Is that clear?"
It was clear. And after another wasted day of constant bickering and precious little progression at their task, the band was finally forced to come to a basic accord on the dispute.
"All right," Jake said toward the end of the day, "it's obvious that there's only one way we're going to get anything done around here and make our submission deadline."
"And what might that be?" Matt asked cynically. "Put you in complete and total charge?"
"No, not exactly," Jake said. "We put whoever wrote the song in complete and total charge."
Matt looked at him suspiciously. "What do you mean?"
"I mean we do six of your songs, six of mine," Jake told him. "The songs you wrote, you tell us how to play and we'll play that way. We won't offer any suggestions on anything. When we do my songs, the same thing holds true — with one exception."
"What exception is that?" Jake asked.
"Unlike you, I do like input from the rest of the band so I'll still take suggestions. I will have ultimate say-so on whether or not to accept those suggestions and what I say is what ultimately goes. Is that fair?"
"What about when the time comes to put our playlist together for the album?" Matt asked.
"We generally put ten songs on the album," Jake said. "I'll pick my best five and you pick your best five and that'll be the album."
"What about the order of play?" Matt asked.
"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Jake said. "Quite frankly, I'd be thrilled as hell to have that to worry about right now."
As much as Matt wanted to argue about this plan, he simply could not. He knew it was not the optimum way to put things together, but he was also a realist enough to know that, at this point in the game, it was the only way things were going to get done. "All right," he said with a nod. "Deal. And I expect every one of you traitorous motherfuckers to stick with it."
They all stuck with it. And, admittedly, the bickering and fighting had been reduced considerably, if not entirely eliminated. They worked out My Life to an uneasy perfection and had then gone to work on another of Jake's songs, a tune called Lines On The Map, a fairly poignant and typical Jake Kingsley multi-tempo piece that discussed the fact that there were more than 185 separate governments on the Earth and that perhaps this was partially the reason why there was so much war and why nothing made any sense.
It was when they started the next set of songs, one by Matt and one by Jake, that more problems cropped up. In this case, both of the primary songwriters were equally guilty of the strife. Since it had been agreed that each of them were in control of their own tunes, they both wanted to record a song that did not really fit the Intemperance signature sound.
Matt's song, Faces At Dawn — basically a hard-driving piece about the ravishes of liquor and drug abuse on the body — was composed by using a heavy palm-muted guitar progression. It was essentially the sort of piece Matt had been trying to push on them for years, ever since hearing the Master Of Puppets album by Metallica. Granted, he had become the master of the palm-muted technique, developing an entirely new style that, if the song were ever recorded, would spawn an entirely new generation of imitators. The problem was that a modified palm-muted piece was still a palm-muted piece, which meant it was too up-tempo to mix well with a piano, which meant it would not fit Intemperance's signature sound.
"Where does Nerdly's piano fit into all this?" Jake asked when Matt first introduced the piece to them.
"We'll put some in," Matt said. "We'll do tempo changes between the chorus and the verses that'll slow down enough for piano work and then the entire bridge can be nothing but piano and your acoustic guitar."
"But during the bulk of the song, no piano at all?" Nerdly asked.
"That's right, Nerdly," Matt said, glaring at him. "No fuckin' piano at all. Do you need to be in the fuckin' spotlight every goddamn second?"
Jake and Nerdly looked at each other with concern and then simply shrugged. They played the song the way Matt wanted it played and although it did not sound like an Intemperance signature song, even Jake had to admit it was a well done piece of music.
That led to Jake's next song, which was just the opposite. It was called I See You, and was about the struggle between the meek side and the strong side in one's personality, how they complimented each other, and how a person could not function if one buried one's strong side in favor of the meek. Jake had written it shortly after returning home from the international tour and he considered it one of the best pieces lyrically he'd ever composed. The problem with it was that it was too slow of a piece to go on an Intemperance album. Musically, it could only be played to the accompaniment of a finger-picked acoustic guitar, a few piano notes, and maybe some soft bass notes, during the verses and the chorus. There was no room at all in most of the tune for a distorted electric lead. Jake had filed the tune away in his unused file quite some time before with a vague notion of pulling it out again if he ever went solo. But when Matt forced them to do a tune with very little piano in it, it occurred to Jake that the old rules were pretty much dead. He dusted the song off and introduced it at a session as soon as they had Faces At Dawn down.
"What the fuck was that shit?" Matt demanded after Jake did the first run through of it. "How in the fuck are we supposed to translate something like that to an electric riff?"
"We're not," Jake told him. "The verses and the chorus will be acoustic guitar only. We'll put in a basic electric riff for the bridge intro and then an extended, double distortion solo before the final verse. We'll up-tempo the climatic verse to include some accompanying distorted lead in the background and then fade to black after the last lyric."
"You're out of your fuckin' mind!" Matt accused. "No electric in the verses or the chorus? That's fuckin' easy listening shit!"
Jake simply shrugged with a smile on his face. "Do you need to be in the fuckin' spotlight every goddamn second?" he asked.
They argued some more, with some of the other members even casting their doubts about whether a piece like this should be on an Intemperance album, but Jake held the trump card ultimately. They had already agreed to do things the way the songwriter wanted them done.
They worked the song out and gradually, as everyone heard more and more of it, they began to like it. Jake's guitar picking during the vocal portions was rich, melodic, and mesmerizing. Charlie's bass strings and Nerdly's piano were worked in to provide the perfect accompaniment, and Jake's voice seem particularly suited to the slow, mournful verses and chorus. Although Matt remained bitter that his lead guitar played only a small part of the song, he was musician enough to do his very best on the parts where he did play. His first notes kicked in after the second chorus, playing a nicely composed riff to back the bridge vocals. After the bridge, Jake switched his guitar over to distortion and took over the electric riff while Matt put down an impressive solo that started medium tempo and progressed to a fast, finger-tapping climax one minute and twenty-seven seconds later. Following this, the first portion of the climactic verse was sung with no accompaniment at all except for Jake's acoustic and then the final chorus went back to two heavily distorted electrics in unison that kept up the tempo to the final fade-out.
All in all, Jake was very pleased with the end results. I See You was still nothing like a typical Intemperance tune, but he thought it one of the best pieces of music he'd ever composed. And he realized something very fundamental while the composition was underway. He liked having final say over the engineering of his tunes. He liked not having to answer to anyone but himself.
The tune they were working on now was called Grandstand, another non-traditional piece by Matt, and, so far, the tune they were having the most problems with. Grandstand was not just another heavy-metal palm-muted piece, although it did contain some very hard-driving riffs throughout it, it was something almost entirely new in the spectrum of music. It was a fast tempo power chord dominated song with heavy drum and bass backbeat, little piano, and little rhythm guitar, but Matt wanted the lyrics sung in the style of a rap song.
"A fucking rap song?" had been Jake's first reaction.
"It's not a fucking rap song," Matt replied. "You just sing it like one."
And so he'd demonstrated, running through the basic tune for the first time and singing the lyrics, in machine-gun, hard-core rap style, while grinding out the guitar. Jake's first impression was that it sounded like shit and that this was some sort of one-upping maneuver in response to I See You. It was only after they continued to try putting the tune together that Jake realized Matt was entirely serious.
"Matt," Jake said the one time he'd tried to reason with him on this song, "There's no way in hell National is going to put this song on the album. They'll use their veto power on it. This is more than just a departure from formula, it's a completely new style of music unlike anything that's been done before."
Jake had expected another profanity laced argument but, to his surprise, he got a reply that was almost reasonable. "Didn't we say the same thing about I Am Time?" Matt asked Jake. "Remember? A harmonica in place of a lead guitar? Unprecedented! Absurd! But we fuckin' did it, didn't we? And it fuckin' sold almost seven million copies as a single, didn't it? In fact, it's still one of the most played songs on rock radio."
Jake had to admit that Matt had a point. He argued the issue no more and tried the best he could to sing the song as Matt meant it to be sung. The problem was, Jake had never really listened to rap music and had never picked up on the nuances of conveying the proper emotion with his voice in that style. He tried the best he could but he just couldn't pull it off. It would only sound like what it was — Jake Kingsley shouting out lyrics instead of singing them. It got to the point where Matt was accusing him of deliberate sabotage.
"All right," Matt said now as everyone took their places in front of their microphones. "Let's do a few run-throughs of Grandeur again and see how bad Jake can fuck it up this time."
"I think it'll be better this week," Jake said, not rising to Matt's bait.
"Oh?" Matt asked. "And why would you think that?"
"I had dinner with Bigg G after we left for the week on Thursday," Jake said. "He helped me a little bit with the whole rap thing. I also spent most of my flying time on the way back from Chicago listening to Bigg G's albums on the CD player. Of course, I couldn't play them that loud because they'd drown out the radios, but I think I'm starting to see how it should go."
Matt looked at him, seemingly wondering if Jake was fucking with him. Apparently he decided that he might not be. "All right then," he said. "Let's see what you got."
They ran through it. The opening consisted of both guitars playing the palm-muted power riff while the drums and bass settled into the beat. And then the guitars fell silent, leaving only the rap-style backbeat of the bass and drums. Jake began to sing. The lyrics were basically about wanna-be musicians who did not have enough talent to move beyond club gigs, about how they could get the barest taste of the big time but knew they would never reach it. The emotion of the lyrics — as Matt intended them to be sung — was that of contemptuous teasing, a taunting of those with lesser talent by those who had it all. Jake knew the lyrics by heart now and did not have to refer to a sheet. Though they did not come out of his mouth with perfection on this first run-through, it was clear to the other band members that he was trying. They sounded much better than the previous week.
Matt nodded slowly when they finished the first run-through. "Could be better," he said. "But it has been worse too. Let's do it again. A little more projection this time."
"Right," Jake said.
They went through it again and again. Slowly, as they moved toward their lunch break, Jake began enjoy the theme of the song more and more. And as his enjoyment of it went up, the emotion of his singing got better and better.
"Now we're fucking getting somewhere," Matt said as they shut everything off for lunch. "Once you start applying yourself, we progress. How about we just skip the first part next time and go right to you applying yourself?"
Jake and Helen boarded a DC-10 the next day for their trip to Omaha to pick up Jake's plane. Jake had booked them first class, a form of air travel that Helen, with more than two thousand hours of flight time, had never experienced before. She marveled over the plush seats and the attentive stewardesses but seemed a little nervous as the aircraft actually began to accelerate for it's take-off roll. "Something wrong?" he asked her as he watched her fingers gripping the armrests. "I hate...
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"Jake, will anyone buy an album like that?" she asked. "I mean... realistically, will they? Will the radio stations play songs that don't involve you being accompanied by distorted guitars and heavy drum beats?" "I make music, Pauline," he told her. "It's what I do and I'm good at it. There might be some kind of backlash from the hard-core Intemperance fans, but I think I'll pick up enough new fans to replace them. There is a precedent for this." "There is?" she...
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"We do?" Jake asked. "What the fuck?" asked Matt. "Nobody told us nothing about no meeting." "What's it about?" Nerdly wanted to know. Pauline answered them one by one. "Yes we do, nobody told me anything either until an hour ago, and I don't know what it's about. They just said it was important and that all five of you and myself should be there." "Freak-boy is still in Birmingham, isn't he?" asked Matt, using his recently coined nickname for Charlie. "Yes," Pauline...
Jake knew right away that The Northern Jungle was not going to be everything Greg predicted. In fact, by the time it was over — after an agonizing 176 minutes — he was starting to think that maybe Greg had just done irreparable damage to his career and credibility. The movie was horrible. There was no other way to describe it. The very premise of it — that global warming had killed off most of the Earth's population and caused the Pacific Northwest to be one of the few habitable places left...
"So anyway," Jim went on. "We did the cover tune thing for about six months or so and then I started introducing some of the tunes I'd written over the years. When we saw how good we were at putting them together into a coherent form..." "It's Jim who does that," Steph said. "He's the one that is able to take all of our lyrics and basic melodies and turn them into actual music." Jim shrugged this off modestly. "I have a gift for that sort of thing," he said, "but everyone...
The prevailing rumor over the next few weeks was that Darren was a vegetable, languishing on life-support without awareness or comprehension, only waiting for someone to make the decision to pull the plug. This was not even close to the truth. Darren remained on a ventilator because his respiratory muscles no longer had the strength to draw air into his lungs. His arms and legs remained flaccid because they no longer had the strength to move. Darren's brain, however, was still quite in the...
New Beginnings Los Angeles, California December 9, 1986 Jake opened the door to his condo and led Jill Yamashito and her father, John, inside. The house was clean — the maid service had been in just that morning — and he gave them the ten-cent tour. They were both suitably impressed with his accommodations. So far they'd been impressed with everything they'd experienced on this day, just as Jake had intended. It had started at 7:00 that morning when a limousine, sent by Jake, had picked...
Jake's urge to panic was very great as he stared at the smoke and flame billowing from the engine on the right wing, as he felt the seemingly uncontrolled yaw to the right, as he felt the nose of the aircraft starting to drop. Panic seemed a perfectly natural response. Based on the screams of the passengers around him, based on the painful way that Helen was clutching his arm and the terrified whine coming from her lips, it seemed like panic was all the rage. He very nearly succumbed to...
Matt's preliminary hearing was the following Monday morning, once again before Judge Waters in the Santa Ana Superior Court building. Matt arrived looking much better than he had during his first court appearance. His face was no longer swollen and most of the bruises were fading away. He was dressed in a suit and tie, his long hair hanging over his shoulders. The accusations against him were read. He was officially charged with: possession of cocaine for sale, possession of marijuana for...
Jake did not feel she was taking advantage of him. He liked having her live there. The domestic cohabitation appealed to his sense of relationship and seemed to help keep his life in some sort of stable rhythm. He enjoyed having someone to talk to when he came home after a long day of recording. He liked having a companion to go out with to the movies, to social obligations, to the beach, or just to picnics up in Griffith Park. All of these were roles the groupies could not fill in his life,...
Lyttelton, New Zealand January 31, 1991 Jake opened his eyes slowly, trying to focus on the softly spinning ceiling fan above his head. After a few moments, he was able to do so. He watched it spin round and round, casting faint shadows on the vaulted ceiling of his bedroom. The light in here was dim. It was always dim in the mornings, usually until eleven o'clock or so during these summer months. His newly constructed house, and the bedroom within it, faced southwest, toward the town of...
In Escrow Los Angeles, California January 17th, 1987 11:30 AM The yellow 1986 Volkswagen Cabriolet wound its way up the narrow two-lane road into the hills below Griffith Park. Rachel Madison, dressed in a pair of designer jeans and a silk blouse from Buffington's on Rodeo Drive, was behind the wheel. Jake Kingsley, wearing a pair of Levis and a long-sleeved pullover shirt, sat in the passenger seat, directing her on where to turn and where to go straight. They were on their way to see...
The session went reasonably well. The first two hours was spent taking their instruments out of storage cases, cleaning them up, plugging them into the sound system, and tuning everything. The instruments were not the same ones they used on stage. Jake used a top-of-the-line Brogan Les Paul knock-off because its components were superior and it recorded better. Matt used a newer version of the Fender Stratocaster. Darren had a different version of the same Brogan bass guitar. Coop had a...
"What mistake?" She pulled a piece of paper from one of her desk drawers. It was an official looking legal form with numbers printed all over it. "This is a breakdown of your tour revenue as of last week. It lists all forms of expenses and all forms of income, including merchandising. When you read the bottom line it says that we made $1,116,428, or, to round down a bit, $1.12 million." "Wow," Jake said, whistling. "That's not bad." "Not bad at all," Pauline agreed. "It's a...
The very next day, Darren was destined to find out about that price. After less than twenty-four hours of stalemate in the Darren vs. Charlie issue, the Mexican standoff, as Pauline called it, was broken. Jake's first inkling of the issue's possible resolution came at just after eight that morning. He was under the covers and snoring in his bed, still sleeping off the eleven Coronas and eight bonghits of the night before. Suddenly, someone was pounding on his door. He tried to ignore it...
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Pasadena, California December 31, 1986 Rachel ended up wearing a black, thigh-length cocktail dress that clung to her body quite alluringly. Her toned legs were clad in dark nylons. She wore three-inch patent leather high heels on her feet. Her blonde hair — which was usually tied up in a ponytail at the restaurant — was styled and hanging down around her shoulders. Her face was carefully and expertly made up with just the right amount of blush, eye shadow, and bright red lipstick that...
The break-up went down as discussed and scheduled. Georgette and Shaver gave their press conferences and read brief statements written by Jake and Mindy in which both proclaimed that the reason for their break-up was personal and that they were still "dear friends" and would always remain so. The media went into a frenzy over the announcement, with headline stories and analysis taking up more room in some local publications than the stories about the pull-out of the US Marines from Beirut...
Frowley was still infuriated when Pauline called him two hours later. She was forced to endure a five-minute lecture about lack of decorum and uncouth behavior and proper legal procedures and judges who didn't know their ass from a hole in the ground. "That's all very interesting, Frowley," she said when he finally wound down. "Now, if we could get to the point of my phone call?" "What do you want?" "I would like to arrange a meeting between you, myself, and at least one member of...
March 25, 1983 Portland, Oregon A soft spring rain was drizzling down as the band walked from their hotel room to the tour bus. As usual, they were looking a little haggard, their faces unshaven, all dealing with varying degrees of hangover. By this point in their careers, however, being hungover was an almost normal state, something that a few more hours of sleep on the bus and a few lines of coke and a few beers upon awakening would take care of. Their humor was good since they were not...
January 1, 1983 Interstate 95, Southern Maine Jake woke up slowly, his head throbbing, his mouth dry and tasting of rum, his stomach knotted with hunger pains. He felt the familiar rocking of the bus, heard the familiar rumbling of its diesel engine as it pulled them up a hill, but he was not in the familiar confines of his fold-down bunk near the back. He opened his eyes slowly, wincing a little at the sunlight streaming in from the windshield up front. He found he was sitting at one of the...
June 28, 1983 John F. Kennedy Airport New York City, New York The limousine stopped as close to the Nationwide Airlines terminal as possible. The driver had been instructed not to open the door for them. That would only attract attention. The hope was to get through the airport lobby and security checkpoint as anonymously and unobtrusively as possible. It was a slim hope at best, but a hope nonetheless. Jake opened the door and stepped out. He was wearing a pair of blue jeans and a button...
South Island of New Zealand January 24, 1989 10:24 AM, local time The rented Cessna 172 leveled off at thirteen thousand feet above mean sea level, just five hundred feet below the maximum operational ceiling of the aircraft. Jake was a little nervous. He had never flown this high before and he didn't like the sluggish way the plane responded to the controls in this thin air. "You're doing just fine," Helen told him. She was sitting in the seat next to him, handling all of the...
Jake did not stand, did not rise to the bait. "I've told you this before, Matt," he said mildly, "and I'll tell you again. This isn't high school. You don't win just because you can kick my ass. I will tell you that if you lay a hand on me in anger, you and I will never play music together again." "Gentlemen!" Crow said, now truly alarmed. "We must stop this! We must..." "Shut your ass, Crow," Matt told him without even glancing in his direction. He continued to glare at Jake...
December 17, 1984 Los Angeles, California It was Monday morning and Steve Crow was going over the music sales reports from the previous week. He was dismayed to see that La Diferencia's debut album The Difference had moved into the number two spot on album sales, selling only six hundred fewer copies than The Thrill Of Doing Business, which was holding at number one for the eighteenth consecutive week. At this rate it was entirely possible that The Difference would take over the number one...
The back of the stretch limousine was filled with a thick, pungent could of marijuana smoke, a cloud so dense the passengers could barely see from one end to the other. All five members of Intemperance were back there as well as Janice Boxer, their publicity manager, and Steve Crow, the man identified as the producer of The Thrill Of Doing Business album and all the songs featured on it. There were two fat joints going around, the band members smoking them with enthusiasm, the two management...
The twenty-seventh annual Grammy awards took place on February 26, 1985. Intemperance once again hot-boxed the limousine with marijuana smoke as they made the trip and were stoned out of their minds as they walked up the red carpet and entered the building. In all there were three nominations associated with Intemperance. The band itself and Crow, the producer, were both nominated for Record Of The Year for Crossing The Line. Jake was nominated for Song Of The Year for writing Crossing The...
Jake's stage outfit consisted of tight red leather pants and a black, loose-fitting shirt that came down slightly below his waist and covered about half of his arms. For shoes he was given patent leather, ankle-length boots that had been polished to a high shine. The moment he got dressed he began to sweat. He knew it would only get worse out beneath the heat of the stage lighting. "Fabulous," crooned Reginald Feeney, the wardrobe manager. "It accents that nice ass of yours but hides the...
National Records Building July 2, 1989 The meeting with Crow was scheduled for eleven o'clock that morning since that was the best time to catch Matt and Coop both awake and in a relatively sober state of being. Jake, who was not looking forward to the subject of the meeting in any way, shape, or form, nevertheless showed up forty-five minutes early. He had a few items that fell under the umbrella of "personal business" to take care of while he was in the building. Since he was Jake...
Later, Jake, his mother, and Nerdly's mother took their places at the front of the room to perform the wedding song Jake had written for his friend. Jake picked up the battered acoustic guitar he used when composing. His mother removed the $18,000 Nicolas Lupot violin she played onstage with the Heritage Philharmonic from its case and put some rosin on her bow. Nerdly's mom sat down at a baby grand piano she'd arranged to have trucked here from her house. As he had done with Celia's...
Jake and Helen did continue to socialize with each other outside of the classroom. He took her out to dinner on a few occasions, to a Los Angeles Dodgers game one Friday night, and to a party at Matt's house. Everywhere they showed up, the media soon followed, dying to get a glimpse of Jake and Helen in some sort of compromising position. The public was fascinated with Helen for some reason Jake could not even begin to put his finger on. Not even Matt's newfound relationship with the famous...
"You know something, Nerdly," Matt said. "All kidding aside, I have to tell you, that bitch of yours is all right. She's a good sport." "Uh... thanks," Nerdly said. "I like her a lot. She's got a good ear for music." "How's her titties?" Matt asked. "It's hard to tell with those baggy clothes she always wears. She got a premo rack, or what?" "The specification of Sharon's breasts are not your concern," Nerdly said. "Oh come on, Nerdly," Coop said. "Give it up. Was...
"Got another one of those?" Celia asked him, taking up position on the rail next to him. She, like everyone else at the rehearsal, was dressed informally. She had on a pair of khaki shorts and a white sleeveless blouse. Her hair was pulled into a simple ponytail. "I think I can spare one," he said, pulling out his pack. He shook one out for her and then lit his lighter so she could ignite it. She drew deeply on it and then exhaled, sending a plume of smoke out over the beach where it was...
January 29, 1983 Texarkana, Texas The deputy was about as stereotypical of a Texas lawman as he could be. He was tall, white, had a gut that protruded over his belt, and he wore an actual Smokey the Bear hat upon his head. He had black leather gloves upon his hands. His light blue uniform featured an American flag on the shoulder and a five-pointed star pinned above the left pocket. His southern accent was so thick as to be nearly unintelligible. "Ya'll better eat up your chow now," he...
Los Angeles, California September 18, 1987 10:30 AM Jake sat shirtless in one of the chairs adjacent to the wet bar out on his patio. Sitting on the bar next to him was an ashtray that contained half a dozen cigarette butts and half of a joint he'd lit earlier. There was also a potent rum and coke sitting there — his third of the day even though it was only 10:30 in the morning. Sitting next to the drink was a notebook and a pen he was using to transcribe lyrics from his head onto paper....
Palm Springs, California November 11, 1988 5:24 PM "Wow," Helen said as the limousine came to a stop in the circular driveway at 210 Jacinto View Drive. She was looking out the window at the huge house that towered above them. Even though the sun had just gone down, bringing an inky twilight to the desert city, she could see enough to be quite impressed. "That is a big motherfuckin' domicile," Jake agreed, managing to combine a Nerdlyism with a Mattism and successfully pull it...
Buying land, even in one's own country, was not simply a matter of walking into a real estate office, writing a check, signing a few documents, and then walking back out again with ownership papers in hand. When such a purchase was being made in a foreign country, things became even more complex. Though to Jill, Jake seemed to be acting on foolish impulse, in reality he planned to proceed very carefully. The first things Jake wanted done were to make sure of all the legalities involved in...
Santa Monica Municipal Airport November 24, 1989 Celia Valdez stood on the tarmac of the airport, looking at Jake's twin-engine plane nervously. Jake had just finished the exterior pre-flight inspection of the aircraft. He had checked the control surfaces, the tires, the brakes, the fuel sumps, the propellers, the antennas, the lights, and had visually verified that his two tanks were actually full of fuel (true, he had watched the fuel truck pump both tanks full just thirty minutes before,...
Austin, Texas June 7, 1984 They moved about the stage, their motions pulsing, frantic, as they closed out Almost Too Easy. As the last beats were hit in a carefully timed crescendo, Jake, Matt, and Darren moved backwards, entering the safety perimeter that would keep them untouched by the coming explosion. By now they were well practiced in this maneuver and there had been no mishaps. The last beat was hit, the last strings strummed, and the two canisters detonated, sending a boom and a...
Heritage, California January 2, 1985 It was well past 9:00 PM and Pauline was sitting behind her desk on the sixteenth floor of the Markley Building. The ultra-modern, thirty-two story building was the tallest, most exclusive high rise in Heritage. Situated directly adjacent to the Sacramento River, its westward facing offices featured spectacular views of the waterfront. Pauline didn't have one of these offices. In fact, she had no view at all. Her office featured no windows and was less...
The movie premier that Jake and Matt had been pretty much ordered to attend (their contract stated they were required to make themselves available for public appearances as arranged by the record company — this was without compensation, of course, with only travel being paid for) was for a film called Thinner Than Water. Neither Jake nor Matt knew anything about it other than it starred Mindy Snow and Veronica Julius, two of the hottest young female actors on the movie scene today, though two...
They met with Steve Crow. He was a young, hip-talking man in a loud but fashionable suit. He had long platinum blonde hair styled in punk rock fashion. He wore sunglasses even though he was indoors. He was intelligent and articulate and he sat and went over each of the previously rejected tracks with them, rating each on its relative merits. "The only one you're absolutely forbidden to record is Its In The Book," he told them. "Which is one of our best songs ever," Matt said...
February 24, 1984 Los Angeles, California "God I hate these fucking leather pants," Matt barked as they emerged from the makeshift dressing room and made their way towards the back-stage area of the rehearsal warehouse. "That ain't no shit," Jake agreed, pulling at his for the twentieth time to keep it from constricting his testicles. "I forgot how hot and uncomfortable these get-ups are." This grumbling was met by more grumbling from the rest of the band. Coop complained about the...
They put in their normal jam sessions on Tuesday and Wednesday, with none of the core members speaking of the conspiracy they were hatching to Darren or to Coop. Not that it was likely to matter if they did. The drummer and the bassist were both so strung out on what Matt, Jake, and Bill were increasingly coming to suspect was heroin that it was chore enough just to keep them focused on their musical tasks. On Wednesday, Coop actually fell asleep a few times — nodded off you might say —...
Jake, Matt, and Bill all received multiple phone calls over the next two days. They received them from Doolittle, from Crow, from Shaver, even from William Casting, CEO of National Records — the big guy himself. These phone calls were all in the same vein — demands to submit recordable music by the deadline, threats of what would happen if they didn't, promises that National would not cave on this issue no matter what, that they would sacrifice the millions they stood to make even if they...
Two days later, Jake was sitting in his living room, sipping a rum and coke and flipping through a collection of apartment brochures that had been sent to him. Manny was already gone, his fate unknown to Jake and uncared about. Jake himself had thirty days to find new lodging. He now had $79,780 in his bank account, his share of the $500,000 advance minus Pauline's twenty percent and the amount he'd spent on groceries for himself and the monthly insurance payment for his Corvette. On...
Sunday. I had been in New York six weeks and two days. Sunday morning Martha and I went to an Appalachian Arts exhibit at the Metropolitan, and late Sunday afternoon we went with Ronnie to see an old Greta Garbo movie at the Museum of Modern Art. Then we went to a diner. For the first time, as we ate, Martha asked me about the party. She said, "It must have been great. He was out until two o'clock." Ronnie said, "Two o'clock? Hey, hey. And how did Anita hold up?" I said flatly,...
Danica quickly gathered up the magic items she thought she would need for her and Celes. She had constructed a false window in her room of the new outpost and carved runes on it allowing her to use it as a rift to nearly any location she knew well. This was something she planned to do in her other houses scattered through the world when she found the time. She and Celes then sat on the bed, with Telanor sitting in a chair across the room from them. "Your job is to keep your eyes open for...
On this trip I kept my opinions of her driving and the discomfort of riding the bike to myself. She was right about this being the best way to get somewhere in the shortest possible time, and if the situation was anywhere as bad as the Sheriff's tone implied, speed was what we needed right now. Neeka threaded her way expertly, if frighteningly, through the light afternoon traffic. We had made good time getting home and getting dressed and it was still well before the time for school to let...
They worked they way down to the bottom of the hill and exited the access point on the back side of it. Two hundred meters east of the access was a landing zone where the wounded were being triaged and flown out. Two APCs from the support battalion were parked here, their doors open. Three medivac hovers were sitting on the ground around them, their engines at idle. Two of them had the rear ramps down, the other was sealed up. As they carried their injured companion in that direction the...
July 8, 1983 Los Angeles, California "Jake, where are you going?" Manny asked as Jake picked up his key ring and headed for the front door. It was 9:25 AM and Manny had just finished cleaning up the mess made from the light breakfast he'd served. "Out," Jake said simply. "But you didn't call a limo," Manny said. "Just taking a little walk, Manny," Jake told him. "Don't worry about it." "But, Jake, you can't just..." "Don't worry about making lunch," Jake said as he...
It was eleven o'clock the next morning when Mindy dropped Jake off in the usual place. As was the usual routine, they did not kiss or hug or show any sort of affection toward each other. They simply smiled, said their goodbyes, and parted company. Jake was limping as he made his way back to his building. He was tired, having gotten less than two hours of broken sleep the night before. He and Mindy had spent the entire night naked in her bedroom, lustfully boffing each other's brains out....
Jake was actually quite concerned that Mindy would do just as he'd suggested and call an end to the relationship in the name of imagery. He knew, based on phone calls the two of them had shared, that Georgette was pressuring her to stay as far away from Jake as possible and to start repairing the damage the photos had inflicted. "She's trying to set me up with Joseph Clark," Mindy told him during one such conversation. "Can you believe that?" "Joseph Clark?" Jake asked, lying in bed...
Jake stopped the Corvette before the closed gate that guarded access to Mindy's property. There was a mailbox, a newspaper delivery box, and a small intercom box that could be used to communicate with the inside of the house. Jake pushed the intercom button, holding it down for several seconds. He hoped he was wrong about what he was thinking — he hoped that sincerely and with all his heart — but he rather suspected that he wasn't. No matter how hard his brain tried to twist and distort...
Afterward, as they lay naked on their backs, staring up at the ceiling, smoking their cigarettes, she turned to him. "I really am going to make it up to you," she said. He grunted in response, feeling his usual post-coital guilt at giving into her emotional blackmail. She gently kissed his ear. "Jake," she said, "I know I've been unfair to you. I've been parading you around like a toy, exposing you to all kinds of things and people you don't want to be exposed to. I've ruined your...
That night, after eating the dinner Manny had prepared for him — something with an unpronounceable French name that was made out of chicken breast and rich white wine gravy — Jake walked into the office of his new place. There, beside the computer desk and the filing cabinet was a black case that had been moved from his apartment in Heritage to his apartment in Hollywood to a storage house during his first tour to his first condo after it to another storage house during the second tour and...