In 2005 I began interviewing people I grew up with and transcribing the interviews, creating a kind of memoir but in other people’s words. What’s most interesting turns out not so much to be the things we remember differently as the things we remember the same. This is the seventh interview; you can read the interviews with Roger, John, Dan, Aaron, Kevin, and Pat.
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Mike, AKA “Fat Mike” – Partner In Remodeling Company
The Star Wars dolls are from like 1978. When I was seven years old I guess my mom probably bought them for me, or granny. Probably my mom. The Beatles figures up there and the Chong are worth mega-bucks. You ever see the movie The Forty Year Old Virgin? That’s what all my friends compare me to.
I run a remodeling company. I basically do everything but sign the checks. I own half a paving company and I’m part-time in classic car restoration.
I met you in 1986. I was fifteen so you were fourteen. Iggy told me about you. I went over to his parents house across form the laundromat. It was winter. You were laying on the floor in the hallway, literally laying on the floor with your legs kicked up on the wall. You looked comfortable. I believe we went from there to Aaron‘s house to smoke pot.
I remember we were getting high at the canal. A few things happened that night. Toro burned Albert’s jean jacket and we all lined up to kick him in the ass. That was also the night the paddy wagons came to the canal and we heard them but they couldn’t get in all the way. Brian Joyce and Shlep got into it that night. And that was the final digging of Pete Brown’s grave, which was a pit we filled with beer cans.
At the time I met you, you were not getting along with your pop too well. You were kind of just living here and there. Sometimes you made up with your dad and you’d go back home. We had a lot of parties there. Your dad was never around and there were all these cheap steaks in the freezer. We’d be drinking, smoking, tripping on acid, and you’d be broiling all these steaks.
I remember you showing up at the Megadeth concert with both your wrists covered in towels. You had sliced them open. Your head was wrapped in a t-shirt or something because your dad had shaved your head. You were psyched because your friend’s band was opening for Megadeth. We all stayed in the balcony and because you knew the band members you wanted to be down in the mosh pit. I remember looking down and seeing you then you came up. Everybody was like, “What happened.” You said your dad kicked your ass and he shaved your head because your hair was important to you. Your dad’s idea of the best way to make you feel bad about yourself was to shave your head. After that point I don’t think you and your dad were ever the same. We smoked pot that night and took blue microdots. We lined the blue microdots up on the balcony where we were sitting.
We had a party at the Villa on Lincoln. You could get a room there for twenty dollars. Iggy was out of town. He was dating Linda. Linda was the one who got the room. She kicked everybody out, including you. It was just us and she starts taking her clothes off. Then there’s a knocking at the door and it’s you with two police officers. They ask her if you’re staying in the hotel with her and she says yes and they tell her you’re not allowed out because it’s after curfew. You waited maybe fifteen minutes, saw we were in the middle of something, then you took off. That was the last I saw of you that night.
I used to come out to Chicago everyday to hang out with you guys. I went to a party with you guys one night. My friend Jeff was with me. Iggy’s parents wouldn’t let us stay over and it was cold. We went to a hallway, it was perfect- it was carpeted, there was an area under the stairs. We just needed to crash for a few hours. In the morning I feel this pain in my foot. It’s a cop hitting me with a billy club. They take us to the 24th. Jeff’s parents pick him up. Nobody picks me up. My grandmother and mother decide neither one can handle me. My grandma just found out she had cancer. So they stick me in the group home. You were living on the streets during all this. But you always had somewhere to go. Sometimes Iggy’s. Sometimes Aaron’s basement. Basically you were homeless. I snuck you in the group home sometimes. One time they busted you because they could smell your feet. After that I got shipped to another group home. A year later you end up moving in there, to the same home. It was kind of weird that we were friends living together under somebody else’s roof.
You introduced me to grain alcohol. We poured a pint of it in a two liter of Hawaiian Punch and you told me the only way we were going to get a buzz was to drink it really fast. I guzzled half the bottle. You guzzled half the bottle. It took like a minute. Ten minutes later the room was spinning. When the buzz started wearing down we wanted to go out. Adrian, who ran that home, said something to you and I said something to defend you and she slapped me in the face. I think I was going to hit her back and you said something or stopped me.
We were sitting with Mike Tan on the stairs at Boone School overlooking the parking lot and basketball court when the acid kicked in real strong. Either you or Mike said, “Look at the blacktop. Doesn’t it look like chocolate pudding?” And it did. That day the sky was perfect blue. The clouds were pillowy white. It was like watching the world through a Kodak commercial. Your hair was real frizzy. You had an afro. And your nose was bright red because you had some sinus infection or something. And you happened to be wearing tie-dyed Converse All-Stars. They were the color of the rainbow. And Mike said, “Hey, you look like a clown.” I started laughing and you got pissed and walked away. Mike and I followed you.
One night we were hanging at the Spaulding Home. I was on crutches. I think I had been kicked out of Campbell House. We were drinking vodka and I fell flat on my face.
Another day you said, “Mikey, I’m going to take you down to the South Side.” You took me to the Maxworks, two abandoned buildings inhabited by hippies. I bought a tie-dy made by them and a handmade wood bowl. That was great. Then you said OK, we’re going to the deep South Side. We went all the way down to 83rd and you introduced me to the Original Leon’s Barbecue. We were the only two white people in the restaurant, which bothered me more than you. You seemed to fit right in wherever you went. We had the rib tip combo. And you said, “We’re going to drink South Side booze.” So you grabbed a bottle of Mad Dog 20/20 and a bottle of grape wine called The Night Train Express. Then we took the train back north. We sat in the last car and guzzled the two bottles. That was the end of the story, from what I can remember.
We were hanging with Tom and Mary across the street from the home. They were older than us, adults. I don’t know if you were doing PCP with them but they were doing that. They had a friend, Tracy, who liked me. I was turned off by her. She seemed to like trouble. You wound up doing her.
That fancy Jewish Camp agreed to let all the group home kids go to camp with them in Wisconsin. We wound up partying with the counselors. We went to a water park and you said, “Who’s coming with me to get beer?” We were all like, “Nah.” You said, “Fuck you. If I get this beer I’m drinking it all by myself.” You went out with a pair of shoes in one hand and a duffle bag in the other. You’d stopped wearing shoes for a while. You were toughening your feet up for some reason. You came back with a case and a half of Point Beer in blue cans. We divided it between the little kids and made them carry it back into the camp.
You left the group home first. You left the school and started going to the normal high school across the street. You were sober then. We were still hanging out, meeting at lunchtime. You ran away. Moved in with Jason, lived in his basement. I lost touch with you because you were hanging out with a new crowd.
I was doing bongs in the bedroom. Randy, who ran the home by then, tried to punish me and my roommate by saying no TV, no going out except for work. I was nineteen. My roommate and I had money in the bank. It took us a week to find an apartment. And that was the end of the group home for me. About a month later Randy came over to our place with a joint. He wanted to get high. We told him to fuck off. When I was twenty-two I moved back in with my grandmother for a little bit. I met this nice Filipino girl. We were opposites. She went to church every week. I listen to heavy metal. I said, “I know your a good girl but we should live together.” It wasn’t even a one-bedroom. It was a studio. I said, “If we can live in this tiny hole in the wall and not kill each other, then we’re meant to be together.” So we got engaged. Now I’m married. I have a kid.
