Back in the early eighties Peggi and I held a wedding reception for the bass player in our band. He and his wife got married in a church and everyone came back to our house for a party. Their parents and family and our friends were all there and I was spinning records in the living room. The bass player’s brother asked if it was ok if he set some fireworks off in the backyard and I said “Sure.” There was a tremendous boom in the back but I didn’t pay much attention. Those things sort of scare me. I kept playing records.
Our neighbors and people from blocks away called 911 and and the next thing I know there was a cop at the door. He asked me if I was the owner of the house. I said, “Yeah,” and he said, “Come on. We’re going downtown”. There were about ten cop cars on the street by this time and they had already spotted the crater in the backyard.
I said, “Wait. I have to go to the bathroom.” I went upstairs and the cop followed me up. I went in the bathroom and he wouldn’t let me close the door. He came into our tiny bathroom with me. I told him, “Look, I don’t really have to go to the bathroom. I’m just stalling, trying to figure out what to do.” He ushered me downstairs, put handcuffs on me and had me sit in the back seat of his car out in front of our house. I noticed the woman across the street looking out her window while I sat there with the dome light on.
I kept saying that I didn’t know anything about the boom. They kept me out in the car for over an hour while the “Exterminating Angel” like party going on inside turned into a a heated moral dilemma. The groom’s brother worked for the City and he had more explosives in his car so he didn’t want to confess and risk losing his job. There was a lawyer in the crowd he said he would represent me. We all showed up in court the next morning but the arresting officer never showed so they dropped the case.
I was thinking of this story this morning when I put the crime guy (above) in our car. I entered him in the “Made In NY” show at the Schweinfurth Art Center in Auburn and he was accepted. I’m taking this guy downtown.
3 Comments
i remember that explosion.
it set off car alarms 6 blocks away.
That was easily the most contentious party I’ve ever been to and I still harbor bad feelings for ‘the bass player’s’ wimpy brother.
BTW, I’m not the ‘bass player’ in that scenario and it was not my brother!
Sounds like the makings of “Porch”, kinda like…”I don’t know what happened”. Although, in my mind, “Porch” reminds me of a wild trip I had long ago. I’m always open to other possibilities…Love you guys, Joel.