2 – Blog 09 – Screaming and Scheming

Up next will be the show at a U of Miami frat house. We again will ask for requests at the party. We want to get everyone dancing, so we will start out doing Bee Gees covers, like ‘Stayin’ Alive.’

The Jacettes have to really step up and  be more out front with their chorus vocals. Mary has been working with Flo and Edi on synchronized dance steps and hand motions. We have their mic moved to the front. All three girls say they are ready. We go over certain songs to make sure they know the songs well enough to just sing out: ‘You should be Dancing.’ ‘The Hustle,’ ‘Celebration,’ ‘The Time Warp from Rocky Horror,’ ‘If You Don’t Love Me by Now.’

I’m satisfied that all these songs are etched in their memories. Robby suggests  doing our version of the whole ‘Rocky Horror Picture Show, at the next party we do. We decide to see how well the Time Warp goes. Iggy complains the songs we are doing suck and wants a Stooges’ song for him to sing. I say we might get a request for ‘I Wanna Be Your Dog.’ He does not get that I am joking and runs off to find a dog collar and leash. Jace tells him to stay away from Max. We hang around the girls and chat to get to know them more. All three are in the choir at Mary’s Santeria Gospel Chapel. Does that mean they are all ‘goodie goodie two shoes,’ we ask
“Compared to you two, we’re saints.” Flo answers.
“Saints and sinners, where’s that headed?” Jace observes.
“You two are either headed for the devil, or are already there and trying to kidnap our souls.”
“We can be good.” I tell them. “Invite us to your service on Sunday.”
“I don’t believe there’s enough holy water to protect everyone from the likes of you two.”
Robby hears holy water. He must retell the tale of Dave and Jazz running down the street, thinking the devil was going to drag them into hell when he added Alka-Seltzer to holy water. They think he is already burning in damnation. The girls are scandalized by our blasphemy.
I protest, “That was entirely Robby’s prank. We’re innocent.”
Flo gives me a wicked look, “So all these tales about visions and strip shows are untrue?”
“Well, maybe not, but Robby’s prank is on him.”
Then she smiles and asks, “Well, what about you both being gay?”
I put my arm around Jace, and we both say, “Gay as the day is long, but straight at night is our song.”
That does not satisfy her, but it makes her think about it.
I go over and give her a real kiss. Jace does the same with Edi. Then we kiss each other.

“You boys are too much.”
I start the old Sonny & Cher song:

‘They say we’re young and we don’t know.
We won’t find out until we grow.
Well I don’t know if all that’s true
‘Cause you got me, and baby I got you

Babe, I got you babe
I got you babe’

Flo watches me singing this to Jace, which startles her, so she finishes the song:

‘I got you to hold my hand
I got you to understand
I got you to walk with me
I got you to talk with me’
Then we alternated the next lines:
“I got you to kiss goodnight
I got you to hold me tight
I got you, I won’t let go
I got you to love me so’
And together, we sang:
“I got you babe”

Published by
Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc

“I guess we need to add this song for the party,” I decide. Flo looks at the bulge in my pants and observes, “You always get hard when you perform. It’s so cute.”
“You wouldn’t call it cute if you actually saw it.”
All three girls scream and run off to the bathroom.

That night Jace and I are sitting in my window.
“You might consult me before telling everyone we’re gay,” I complain.
“I just tell the people I want to know it. Does it bother you when we kiss in public?”
“It never bothers me when we kiss. I get a little embarrassed when my jeans tent up.”
“I always get hard when we perform together. To me, you’re the only one there.”
He leans over and kisses me. “I prefer the real thing to get me hard,” as he lets me wrap my arms around him.
“You get hard just thinking about it?” I ask.
“I never know what my dick is thinking, like the other night when we were wrestling, I have no idea when I came. I didn’t even notice until we stopped. How about when you’re with Flo?”
“We made a pact that you won’t fuck anyone else unless I’m there. I’ll do the same. Orgies or nothing.”
“Really? I’d hate it if you had sex without me.
“Poor Flo and Edi. We treat them like skank groupies.”
“No we don’t. They now know we’re together, so if they still are attracted to us, it’s all for one, one for all.”
“The Four Musketeers.”
“The Four Mouseketeers.”

I sit there quietly with Jace in my arms.  All my plots for sex disappear when I realize he is asleep. I get us both up and sleep-walk him to bed. He sighs once I jump in and wraps himself around me. I love him so much, I automatically cum from just his embrace. Maybe I should start wearing underwear. I keep the cum warm enough to fall asleep.

The problem with always skipping school is you cannot look forward to vacation. You do not have anything different to do for the weeks everyone else is off. Robby explains this to me when he has twice as many kids coming round; we call them the tourists. All they do when they get stoned is look around, part-timers who cannot maintain. It is all part of his pot theory of always being high; maintaining an enlightened stage of stoniness. You are in control, but your suppressed alter ego can break out at any moment and make you act foolish. Paranoia strikes deep. Jace and I stop hanging out during the tourist season. Felix keeps paying us slave wages to entertain potential customers. Lunch hour is the best, but it means getting up in the morning as if there’s school, hanging out at the garage, getting high, taking Max to the Grove, and shilling for Felix. With the Ray Bans, we assume new identities for these sidewalk shows. I’m ’Blind Willie,’ Max is my seeing-eye dog, and Jace is the attendant.

We take requests and do not get busted by the cops because we do not play Heavy Metal. Pretty soon we have pre-teen groupies. Felix puts out a bench. If a request is for a love song, I get one of the groupies to join me on the mic, so I can sing to her. They stay there all afternoon, waiting for me to sing to them. On a day all the girls have left, there are three boys sitting on the bench. They’re 13 to 14 years old. I can tell who is the boss, who’s just a follower, and the one who doesn’t fit in. I chose odd ball to come up. I tell Jace we will play The Angels’ ‘My Boyfriend’s Back.’ “And there’s going to be trouble,”to this kid. He’s clueless, going along with the song.

“He went away and you hung around
And bothered me, every night
And when I wouldn’t go out with you
You said things that weren’t very nice

My boyfriend’s back and you’re gonna be in trouble

He’s been gone for such a long time.
(Hey, la-di-la, my boyfriend’s back.)
Now he’s back and things will be fine.
(Hey, la-di-la, my boyfriend’s back.)
You’re gonna be sorry you were ever born.
(Hey, la-di-la, my boyfriend’s back.)
‘Cause he’s kinda big and he’s awful strong.
(Hey, la-di-la, my boyfriend’s back.)
And he knows about your cheatin’,
Now you’re gonna get a beatin’.

Inspired by the lyrics, his friends jump up and start thrashing around on the sidewalk.   We repeat the song.

“He’s been gone for such a long time.
(Hey, la-di-la, my boyfriend’s back.)
Now he’s back and things will be fine.
(Hey, la-di-la, my boyfriend’s back.)
You’re gonna be sorry you were ever born.
(Hey, la-di-la, my boyfriend’s back.)
‘Cause he’s kinda big and he’s awful strong.
(Hey, la-di-la, my boyfriend’s back.)
And he knows about your cheatin’,
Now you’re gonna get a beatin’.

The friends yell, “You’re gonna get a beatin,’ and attack their friend who offers no resistance. We sing on;
• ‘(Hey, la-di-la, my boyfriend’s back.)
La-di-la, my boyfriend’s back!
La-di-la, my boyfriend’s back!’

  • Songwriters: Feldman, Bob / Goldstein, Gerald / Gottehrer, Richard
    © EMI Music Publishing

We realize that his friends just look violent. They are actually pulling their punches and kicks. They pick him up from the curb and dust him off.

I walk over and say, “Ready for round two?”

Everyone crowds around Jace who starts the song over again. Mayhem ensues. All the kids are singing the lyrics and when “Now you’re gonna get a beatin’ is sung, everyone jumps the same kid. I take his side and we stand our ground. None of the blows are killers. Everyone is stomping around. Anyone who gets knocked down, unable to get up, is kicked to the side until they are outside the circle. The kid I defend is thrilled that someone has taken his side, instant hero-worship – False Gods rule.

Felix comes running out. We all have to leave because a neighbor called Metro Police. After we put away the gear, Felix tells us to stay and act like sales clerks if the cops come. We tell him we need better clothes than our ratty jeans and missing-button shirts. He says to grab what we want. He acts mad, but then he winks. Later he tells us he took in $800 that day. Sure enough the cops show up. Felix does all the talking, explaining that Christmas break means a lot of kids are hanging out. He is glad the cops move them alongt.

The officer starts to warn Felix about next time, Felix interrupts,“It’s likely to happen again, but I will keep it under control. The neighbor, who called and told me to expect the police, thought the kids were really fighting. They were just dancing to a song.”
“Well, keep the music down.”
“Peace, brother,’ Felix says as the cops leave.

He turns to us. For the first time he uses his appraising eye on the clothes we choose. He approves of the tight jeans, but substitutes long-sleeved tee shirts instead of the flowery blouses we chose. We tell Felix about the parties we are playing during the holiday season, asking him to pick out accessories for our performances. He pulls out a chiffon scarf and sequin gloves for me to wear when we play metal, cowboy hats for oldies, a pair of Zoot suits for our soul show, and Hawaiian style shirts for surf songs. We appoint him our stylist. He is happy to be participating, especially after we tell him we are playing a private party at Viscaya on New Year’s Eve.

We have one party before Christmas and a couple on the weekend before New Year’s. We really do not have time to rehearse. I want the Jacettes to be ready for Viscaya. We will do a soul song for them to step up front. I ask Mary to work with Flo and Edi to do the whole Supremes act. I tell them to practice backups on a couple of Jackson Five hits. These local Gables college kids have a limited taste in pop music. I think we should throw the soul songs on first, before we get into their metal and blues anthems. ‘The Jackson Five opening live for Black Sabbath.’ Then we’ll run through their favorites to get the crowd going. We will switch to a jam, asking Iggy to do his ‘Dog’ howl, and finally let anyone who dares to come up and do a song they know best. These are kids a couple of years older than us; we all share the same pop taste. So, it’s easy. People will ask how we know so many different types of songs. It’s just the hits. Jace always knows the riffs. We all just follow him. My singing is honed by all the sing-alongs I’ve done since junior high. I have perfect pitch on vocals. The fun part is going beyond my natural range. I can even be Michael Jackson. If I blow a chord, it’s cool. Jace always fills in my mistakes on rhythm. It is easy. We need to have our own songs, but that will come. We have three – False Gods, Drugs, and the Love Song. After the party season is over we can spend the time coming up with our own set. The parties are a blast. Hell, it is Christmas, ‘hark the herald angels sing.’

Christmas is on Wednesday; we have a party the prior Saturday, caroling on Christmas Eve, parties on Friday and Saturday after, and the New Year’s Eve party on Tuesday; plus we’re still busking outside Out & Proud. The hardest working duo in rock n roll.

After setting up at the party location, the first Christmas gig starts with our traditional Sorrento’s pizza, beer, and pot. We roll in with pot-fueled swagger, hitting up partyers for their favorite songs. Their choices are standard metal and R&B songs that we always play. To give the party some alternative choices we start with the Beatles’ ‘Sgt. Pepper/Little Help from my Friends medley.

A cluster of our roadies and some girl groupies gather up front. A lot of people are milling about in the back.
I put the mic down and yell out, “You want more Beatles, or how about some metal?”
A few ‘hell, yeah’s,’ come from the back when I mention metal.
I take the mic and lean back to back with Jace, who rips into ‘Paranoid.’

Those in the back run up and try to push through the crowd. Iggy, Dave, Jazz and the others form a barrier so the groupies aren’t pushed around. When we finish, I yell out, ”Settle down. Let the girls be up front. You’ll get all the metal you want.” I move away from Jace, pacing back and forth, Robby hits the drum intro to Aerosmith’s ‘Walk This Way.’

I scream the lyrics way higher than I want, but Jace hits the lead chords, and the crowd’s into it. They start pacing back and forth with me. I exaggerate the ‘walk’, with my hands on my hips and doing pelvic thrusts. Without stopping, Jace breaks into ‘Same Old Song & Dance,’ which was more in my vocal range.

Jace’s leads keep on coming. At the end, we ask, “You want American or British Metal?”
The answer comes back American.
“Alright, you now get our surprise guest. Iggy, get up here.”
He pushes through the crowd in full makeup and drag with his dog collar and leash. I hand him the mic. Jace and I hit the opening chords several times while he writhes on the floor and finally jumps up, singing ‘I Wanna Be Your Dog.’

Then we let him do ‘Raw Power.”

Taking back the mic, “Give it up for our friend Iggy.” People cheer and I hear people asking, “Is that really Iggy Pop?”
“No, lame-o’s, That’s our Iggy.” And he runs into the crowd.
“Since you’re not too discriminating, you’ll get some British invasion. Zeppelin’s ‘Stairway to Heaven’.”

It calms them down. Jace rips into ‘House of the Rising Sun’ by the Animals.

Then we do a medley of the Kinks’ ‘You Really Got Me’

and ‘Lola,’

where I sing ‘Well, I’m not the world’s most passionate guy, But when I look in her eyes, Well I almost fell for my Lola,,’ to the Jacettes, who are singing back-up ‘Lola, el ow el ay, Lola.’ Then, I run over to Jace and sing,

‘ Girls will be boys, and boys will be girls.
It’s a mixed up, muddled up, shook up world,

Except for Lola. Lo lo lo lo Lola.’

Then I run back to Mary, slid to my knees, while the Jacettes sing, ‘”Little boy, gonna make you a man.”

Songwriters: DAVIES, RAYMOND DOUGLAS © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.

The crowd is half going crazy at my antics or standing there wanting for a finale, so I stand up and give Flo a big kiss.
“Time for a break to clear up my mind. Somebody give me a beer.”  I walk off the stage. Jace stays there riffing on the ‘All Day and All of the Night’ chords.

Felix comes up and hands me a beer. I hug him and jump up and down from unspent energy and excitement.
“Felix, you came. I love you, dude.”
He looks like he half believes me, and then laughs. “You really are an attention junkie.”
“Yeah. Shoot me up right here.”
He looks at my outfit, which is all accessories from Out & Proud, a long boa-like scarf, flared jeans so tight I already popped a couple of buttons, a long-sleeved knit tee, and a floppy Hendrix hat. I stand about 6 feet 6 inches in platform boots.
“I’ve got to get you photographed. Man, you know how to work it.”
“Bring it on.”
Jace comes up and accuses Felix, “You hitting on my man?”
“Completely, totally, fully, indelibly..”
“Yeah. He’s the cat’s meow.”
“That ain’t rock n roll.”
“That’s suicide.”
The one gay groupie is back. He winks at me.

“Hey, dude. Com’n over here. I want to introduce you to my friend, Felix.”
He gives me a big smile that I actually remember him, and extends his slender wrist to Felix.
“My name’s Phillip, hi.”
“Where’s your friend?” I ask.
“Oh, he has a boyfriend now,” he sadly explains.
“I thought you guys were together.”
“Well, we came out together, but we’re really just friends.”
“I promised Felix I’d find him to a nice boyfriend and it looks like you’re available. So, how about it?”
He turns bright red, barely able to look at Felix. He finally says to me, “You are so casual and upfront about it all. I wish I had your confidence.”
“You see Jace,” who is surrounded by guitar groupies, “he was so shy and lacked confidence just three months ago. All he needed was someone to believe in him. He has so much talent. It just needed to be tapped.”
“He’s your boyfriend, right.”
“Totally. We’re together every minute of every day.”
“Can I ask what you do, y’know, in bed?”
“No. Are you new to this boyfriend thing?”
“Yeah. Sorry. I guess that was too personal.”
“It’s okay, Phillip. I have a rule that I don’t kiss and tell.”
Felix was almost squirming to get in this kid’s pants. Finally he asks, “How old are you?”
“Oh, I don’t kiss and tell.”
We all laugh.
“No, I’m nineteen and in college at the University.”
“Let’s get a beer,” Felix pulls him away. Phillip looks pleased.
“Another one bites the dust.” I sing.

I walk over to Jace who looks relieved to get away from his fans.
“Are we going to do the jam session?” I ask.
“I hope there are some people who can sing and play.”
“Let’s find out.”
I walk over to the others and explain we were going to try to start a jam session. We may have to let some of these goons try to play with us. Michael doesn’t look happy about it. Most of the equipment is his dad’s.
“Where is your dad?” I ask him.
“I expect him to be here. We really should get his okay about sharing his equipment with anyone.”
“Well, let’s play some glitter songs and hope he shows up. How about letting him play your bass, Hippie Greg? I bet he can rock out to Frank Sinatra.”
“Well, sure, I guess.”
“Well, let’s hope he shows up.”

I grab the mic, “Hey hey, yo moma, yo moma. Listen up. We’re looking for another guest to show up but in the meantime, we’re gonna play some different rock n roll.”

I look over at Felix and Phillip standing at the side.
“Phillip, get your butt over here. This song’s for you.”
I grab a cigarette from one of the girls in front.

“Time takes a cigarette, You put it in your mouth, you pull on your finger, another finger, then your cigarette…..

you’re a rock and roll suicide….

just turn on with me and you’re not alone
Let’s turn on with me and you’re not alone (wonderful)
Let’s turn on and be not alone (wonderful)
Gimme your hands cause you’re wonderful (wonderful)
Gimme your hands cause you’re wonderful (wonderful)
Oh gimme your hands.”

Songwriters: BOWIE, DAVID
Rock ‘n’ Roll Suicide lyrics © EMI Music Publishing

I am afraid Phillip is going be swallowed up by the floor. I do not mean to embarrass him. Tears are welling up. Felix is right there. He hugs him and they kiss. Everyone is whistling. Girls are screaming. I nod to Jace and mouth ‘Dudes.” He begins the chords to ‘All the Young Dudes.”

“Billy rapped all night about his suicide
How he’d kick it in the head when he was twenty-five
Don’t wanna stay alive when you’re twenty-five…

…. Hey brother you guessed I’m a dude
All the young dudes
Carry the news
Boogaloo dudes
Carry the news
….Now Jimmy looking sweet though he dresses like a queen
He can kick like a mule
It’s a real mean team
We can love
Oh we can love
And my brother’s back at home
With his Beatles and his Stones
We never got if off on that revolution stuff

All the young dudes
Carry the news
Boogaloo dudes
Carry the news

Songwriters: BOWIE, DAVID

Jace finishes the song riffing leads. I jump to the front and push the crowd back. It’s insane, guys are angry, girls are swooning, Playing the chords and singing over and over,
“All the young dudes
Carry the news
Boogaloo dudes
Carry the news “

I scream, “I wanna see you, come on and be news, we need you, don’t be fools.”

I push until I collapse. Two husky guys pick me up. I’m lifted above their heads and carried across the crowd, singing into the mic,
“All the young dudes
Carry the news
Boogaloo dudes
Carry the news “

Jace switches to the intro to ‘Rock n Roll All Nite.”

I jump up and sing, “You keep on shoutin’, you keep on shoutin’

I wanna rock ‘n roll all nite and party every day

I wanna rock ‘n roll all nite and party every day

I wanna rock ‘n roll all nite and party every day

I wanna rock ‘n roll all nite and party every day.”

Songwriters STANLEY, PAUL / SIMMONS, GENE Published by Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

I look up and see Michael’s dad with a huge smile on his face as he observes my antics. I wave him to come up front and I ask him if he will play a Frank Sinatra song with us. “You know I want to but I can’t be embarrassing Michael.”
“He wants you to, we already agreed if you showed up. It’s the point when this party turns into a massive jam session. Do you know ‘My Way.”
He just nods and smiles. I get Hippie Greg to give him the bass. He runs a few notes and nods he’s ready.
“Okay, quiet down you homos and other people. We’re going to take it down a notch and let our band’s hero get in on this fun.”
I nod to Michael who does a drum roll. I let his dad do the first line solo, which he hits. Then I begin to sing,

“And now the end is near
And so I face the final curtain
My friend I’ll say it clear
I’ll state my case of which I’m certain
I’ve lived a life that’s full
I traveled each and every highway
And more, much more than this
I did it my way”

Published by

It calms everyone down, so I can talk over the bedlam, “This is the part of the party when we ask you what songs you want us to play. If you’re brave enough you can come up and play with us. Who has a request?”
Someone yelled, “Stones. Stones.”
“Okay, what song can you play?”
Silence. Then someone else yells, “Sympathy for the Devil.”
“Can you play it?”
“NO, but I can sing it.”
“Come on up.”
He jumps up. I stand with him at the mic. Michael and Robby start the tribal drum beat. Hippie Greg takes the bass from Mr. Antonio. I mouth ‘ow.’The kid responds with a wicked, “OOOOW….. Please allow me to introduce myself…..”

At the finish he jumps down waving the devil horns at his friends.
“Next,” I shout.
”Com’n up.”
This guy indicates he’ll play the guitar, so I give him mine. He hits a chord which is vaguely similar to the song, and I jump in, “I can’t get no….”

He’s terrible, but Jace is able to keep the sound together after I turn the guitar way down. The kid really thinks what he hears is his own playing, not Jace’s”

“Okay, enough Stones. Who’s got a song they can play.”
A black girl yells, “Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes’ If you don’t know …”

“Com’n up and join the Jacettes.” The girls make room for her and suddenly her two other friends jump on stage as well. I give Flo my mic so we have six singers on two mics. It goes on like this for over an hour, with everyone crowding our stage. Finally I say, “Okay, the last song is meant for dancing.” I start the Jackson Five’s ‘ABC.’ I sing the opening verses. Everybody is swaying and before the chorus, I shout, “Sing out,

Easy as
One, two, three
Or simple as
Do re mi
ABC, one, two, three, baby, you and me girl!
Easy as
One, two, three
Or simple as
Do re mi
ABC, one, two, three, baby, you and me!’

Everyone is singing and doing the Jackson’s Motown shuffle. We go through it three or four times, with me singing the verses and everyone doing the chorus.

I finally give Robby and Michael the signal to end.
“Thank you. Thank you. You all are graduates of the Motown School of Hard Luck. Go out and get a tan. We’ll rip you off for any soul you have, white boys.”
They laugh, but when they realized we were done. A collective, “No” goes up. They shout for more.
I look at Jace and mouth False Gods. He agrees.
I take the mic again. “You all had a good time?” Affirmative cheers went up. “You want to hear a song that’s ours?” Claps and howls. “Well, in case you don’t know by now, we are False Gods. We’re here to take your pleas, so get on your knees.”

Jace does the intro and I start singing with the drums,

“Where others feared to tread,

they gave us up for dead,

memories linger eternally,

as Lucifer’s proud plea,

a world of our own,

on high a black throne,

sing to make them see,

happy for eternity

…we are False Gods, we are False Gods…

a world so meek and blind,

we laugh at all of  mankind,

fools misunderstand,

we’re Satan’s band,

a world of endless flaws,

facades and miracles applause,

eulogized but despised,

shed your false disguise,

fall to your knees,

utter useless pleas,


…we are False Gods, we are False Gods…

pray in foreign tongues,

shoot your useless guns,

sacrifice hallowed sheep,

shun cold, dark streets,

you’re just nasty fleas,

Set your minds at ease

…False Gods, False Gods…

we will live eternally,

we hear your painful screams,

Just wait 20 years or so

You will know what it means

….We are False Gods, False Gods..

… False Gods”

You will know just what we mean

….We are False Gods, False Gods..”

At the end of my lyrics, Jace goes on a riff that is part heaven, part hell. He leaves everyone at a peak of high notes, and then crashes to an ending. ‘Boom.’

This is unexpected after all those covers. People start yelling, “False Gods, False Gods.” We walk off and collapse beside the stage. Everyone crowds round. I cannot tell if they like our song, but the party is over. I just want to be in bed with Jace. He is stretched out with his head in my lap.   Robby comes up with a joint. It is a kick in the balls. I stop spinning and look out at fifteen expectant fans. I pass the joint along. They all start yelling ‘False Gods. False Gods.” It feels so good to be thoroughly drained and have nothing left to give. The fans are giving back by just by being there. Finally Dave comes over and says everything is packed up and in the van. I hug him. I have nothing to say. He says they will leave it all at Michael’s house. We will catch a ride with Mr. Antonio. The frat social director comes over and hands me $800 without batting an eye. He knows not to stiff us.

Felix and Phillip come over and kneel beside us.
“You answered my prayers, false god,” Felix jokes, his arm around Phillip. I smile, thinking it is what I do best, getting other people together. It happens because I am so tight with Jace. Others want to be in on it, whatever it is. Jace notices the stirring in my jeans, rolling his head around to look at me with a devilish grin.
“Should we skip Sorrento’s?” he asks.
“No way, without nourishment I’ll be useless tonight.”
“Your dick says otherwise.”
“You want to skip out?” I ask.
“Naw, but I expect you to be in full bloom tonight. I’ve made plans.”
My dick skips a double beat, as he nuzzles his head into my lap. Now I am too embarrassed to get up. Flo, never one to miss anything, pulls me up and positioned herself in front of my bulge. We walk out to Mr. Antonio’s Caddy together. ‘Ain’t life grand?’

At Sorrento’s we need two booths to accommodate everyone. Michael’s dad indicates I should sit next to him. I figure he wants to talk about his own performance on ‘My Way.’
“Did you enjoy performing with us, Mr. Antonio?”
‘That was unexpected. You don’t have to charm me by letting me play.”
“It was the turning point of the show, when it became a free-form jam. It was my idea that anybody could jump up and play with us.”
“Michael asked if it was all right to let others use the equipment. I didn’t expect I’d to be the first one.”
“We knew you’d enjoy playing a Sinatra classic. We aim to please everybody who comes to our shows.”
“You surely know how to get everyone to have a great time. How do you come up with these ideas?”
“We’re having a great time. That’s when the ideas just pop into my head.”
“What’s your next idea.”
“The most important goal is to make the Viscaya party a success for Michael and Jenna. Have you talked with Mr. Lombardi?”
“I can’t just talk to him about Michael and Jenna getting together.  Michael has to impress him. If the band puts on a performance like you did tonight, I think romance may be in their stars. Lombardi will be able to tell if there’s real electricity between them. ”
“You’re a romantic, too?”
“I guess Michael gets it from someone,” he agrees.
“Then it will be even greater than ‘Romeo and Juliette.’”
“Tim,” he looks at me and gives me a big hug. Jace knows I will tear up and pulls me away before I lose it.
“Hey, the girls want some face time too,’ he orders.
I smile at Michael’s dad and shrug as Jace leads me away. All three Jacettes are in the other booth with Robby and Iggy. They are all chattering about their own performances. Flo grabs me, Edi has Jace and Robby has Mary.  Iggy’s in his own world.
“Pull out the doobie, “Iggy says. “I get first hit ‘cause I was the star tonight.”
“Man, we give you two songs and it goes to your head,” Robby says as he pulls a joint from behind his ear. “Let this weed whack your head before it blows up any more.”
“Man, those people thought I really was Iggy Pop.”
“You better lose some weight if you’re gonna be Iggy Pop, or else they’ll think you’re Elton John.”
Everyone laughs while Iggy takes two hits before passing the joint. I notice that Flo and Edi don’t partake. Our fun girls are party girls who can say no.
“You girls don’t imbibe the weed?” I ask.
Flo looks abashed and replies, “Sometimes when we want to get crazy but usually not.”
Jace and I give each other knowing looks. What are these girls scheming? Could it be an orgy?

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