Posted May 19th 2003
Hello again my friends or, as they say in Botswanaland 'Gaddatupee enapola!'
To which one of course replies 'Enapola taypudala.' Ah yes, they have a way
with words don't they. And while we're on the subject of words, every time I
see that phrase at the top of this page [the pen is mightier than the sword]
I can't help but think that it's kind of a knock on swords. After all, if you
had to stab someone, wouldn't a sword be the way to go? And yet I've tried writing
with a sword and it's a damn tricky business. So I guess it's just a case of
'all things to their proper use.'
Now let's return to the final chapter of 'Before They Were Stars.' This last
bit could be a little tough because I'll be telling my own story and it may
be difficult to maintain objectivity. Perhaps I should have asked one of the
other band members to tell my tale, but frankly they're all still a little bit
steamed at me for the things I said about them. [jeezus Rich give it up will
ya, you were scary in high school-just admit it and move on] I can't trust THEM
to tell my story with the proper sensitivity it deserves. So what I've
decided to do is to use a third-person type of format and avoid the 'then I
did this and then I did that' type of thing. Let's begin...He was born of humble
beginnings in the slums of Ipswich, Massachusetts, a poor coal mining town 35
miles north of Boston. The seventh of eight children [4 sets of twins] born
to his mother Idabelle, he showed no early signs of the show biz legend he would
become. He was a sensitive [some would say almost saintly] child and seemed
ill-fitted to the rough and tumble of a coal mining town. His father, Kareem
abdul Girard [who adopted that first name during a brief fling with the Muslim
religion] a coal miner himself, worried about his young sons' toughness and
soon developed techniques to strengthen him. Whether it was tying a pork chop
around his neck and tossing him to the neighborhood dogs or bunjee-cording him
hundreds of feet down a mine shaft, the elder Girard never tired of trying to
help his toddler son Mike toughen up. The other siblings [Dick and Dee Dee,
Chad and Jeremy, Ike and Tina, and Mikes' twin Jack] looked on with great amusement
at their fathers' antics. Jack in particular loved to
see his wild-eyed twin yo-yoing up and down the dark shafts and would scream
with glee when, overcome with fear, Mike made poopy. But more about Jack later.
Times were hard for the family, what with feeding the 8 children [not to mention
the neighborhood dogs] and it was around this time that mother Idabelle, in
an effort to make ends meet, first devised her ill-fated 'Rent a Kid' business.
Her thinking was that perhaps there were people out there who wanted a kid just
for a day or two. Maybe there was a children’s' movie they wanted to see
or, better yet, maybe they were wondering about having a child of their own
and wanted a no-risk tryout. In spite of her innocent intentions, the authorities
soon put a stop to the venture but not before young Mike was rented for a week
to a wealthy couple from the up-scale lakes region of Ipswich. It was here that
the 7-yr. old first learned of the pleasures that a well-healed existence can
bring. Whether it was water skiing, lawn bowling, turnip tossing, or any of
the other simple joys that rich people daily experience- like eating a pork
chop without fear of attack; the young lad felt he was finally in his element.
Years later he would remember this time period as an awakening. But soon enough
it was back to reality and time to start school. His first grade teacher, Miss
Lapdale, had this to say, "I don't remember much about him, except that
he was good with animals, or at least dogs. There were always 5 or 6 dogs following
him to school." Whether it was the constant hounding of these animals,
or the many terrifying plunges down the mine shaft, the young man began to emerge
from his shell to the point that when it came time for the school play, he was
ready to tryout for a part. Though still too shy to speak, he did land the part
of mushroom no. 2 in the Henry Miller play 'I'm a Happy Carrot' and he was primed
for his first performance. It would be nice to relate that all went well, but
that wasn't the case as fate reared its' ugly head in the form of Mikes' evil
twin brother Jack. Yes, Jack, tormentor of the meek and the source of all that
was wrong in Mikes' life. Where Mike was shy and thoughtful, Jack was loud and
belligerent. Where Mike was winsome and felicitous, kind even to a fault, Jack
was venomous and execrative, and wholly lacking in contrition for his perniciousness.
In other words, Mike=good, Jack=bad. Mikes' role required him to stand quietly
on the left side of the stage [inside his oversized mushroom costume] and remain
there for the duration of the play. All well and good until Jack snuck up before
the curtain opened and super-glued the costume [with Mike inside it] to the
stage. No problem right, the mushroom wasn't supposed to move anyhow. And it
didn't, not for three days and inside it poor Mike waited, sweating and too
shy to speak, for someone to realize that he wasn't able to move, or get out
of his costume. Ooh, bad Jack! You might think that either Kareem, Idabelle,
or any one of the kids would have noticed his nightly absence from the family
but once again Jack had it figured. "He's in his room, he thinks he's a
bigshot just because he's in a play," Jack would say. Or, after putting
on some of Mikes' clothes, Jack would parade around the house saying things
like," I think Jack is the best brother anyone could ever have." Finally
on the third and final night of the play, after everyone had left, a janitor
noticed the sizable puddle near mushroom no. 2 and broke the mushroom free to
reveal a much relieved Mike. The newspapers the next day told stories of the
heroic "mushroom boy" but the truth never came out. This would be
a reoccurring theme over the years as Mike moved through life. Jack would commit
all kinds of atrocities, sometimes telling people his name was Mike, and leave
his poor sibling to clean up the mess. When years later, long after he had joined
The Fools, Mike was found bound and gagged in a dressing room closet after a
particularly gruesome Fools show, it was realized that Jack, not Mike had done
the show. At this point I must leave the 'third person' and tell you that if
you've ever met me on the street and I haven't been nice to you, if you've ever
seen a Fools show and it wasn't good, or if I've ever casually fondled you,
male or female [evil Jack!!] it wasn't me. It was Jack. And that's my story
as well as I can tell it. Pardon me now but there's a pork chop with my name
on it in the kitchen.
Thank you and goodnight.
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