Another memorable date, another Friday night, another week later… May 11, 1979. I had been granted permission to go out on the Friday night following the prior Friday night’s drunken debacle, and this time Roxy, Joe, and Susan stopped by my house to pick me up to head over to the Morrisville Drive-In to view George Romero’s Night of the Living Dead sequel, Dawn of the Dead. On the way there, we picked up Ed Wagner (this is where I believe I saw the rhododendrons in purple bloom somewhere along Pennsylvania Avenue.) To be honest, I don’t remember a lot about the night; I think it was a triple feature, and I do recall riding shotgun on the way there as well as during the movies. I vaguely remember visiting the snack bar, and probably the men’s room, and at one point I know I was sitting in the driver’s seat (I only have two words: tootsie pop) and before I knew it the movies were all done, it was nearly 2:00 AM, and I was in a whole new world of trouble. Not for being drunk or high, but rather just because it was so late. I ended up being grounded for the following Friday, and very nearly the Friday after that, but we’ll get to those dates soon enough.
Tag: jbubs
“How rich and rewarding our friendship might have been all these years if we hadn’t disconnected when we were younger.”
Well, here it is, another May 4th… another year after the year I was a junior in high school, finding myself another year further down the road, now 31 years on.
I pause each year at this time, to remember a particular evening in 1979, for what I consider to be a watershed moment in my life, the critical point in my life when I started along the path to become the person I am today. To that point, my existence had been sufficient to simply float along, still tied to the apron strings of my childhood. To be certain, I had started to explore beyond the familiar surroundings of my life sometime in the middle of the prior year, but to that date I had never dared myself to peck at the shell and crack open the egg, until that night.
So, what exactly happened? Interestingly enough, I’m not sure I remember; not necessarily because of the amount of time and brain cells lost between then and now, but rather because I was flat out drunk on the night in question and I can only remember bits and pieces. I do remember receiving my parents’ permission to go out on that Friday night, and Roxy driving her big ass car up to my house, with Joe and Susan along for the ride. We picked up Kenny, and then I rode shotgun as we headed over to Trenton. I recall the purple flowers of rhododendrons in bloom somewhere along Pennsylvania Avenue in Morrisville (or was that the following week, when we saw Dawn of The Dead at the Morrisville Drive-In?) It started to rain. We picked up some beer, somewhere; I sat in the car while side one of Born To Run played on the radio – it was all cool, we were in New Jersey. Susan told me she was from New Jersey… after a while we stopped for a bathroom break, Joe, Kenny and I pissing near the front of the car, and in my naiveté I wandered to the back of the car to ask the two squatting women if they had dropped something.
From there, things get murky. I recall kissing Roxy; I vaguely remember something about scraping a guardrail; eventually I exchanged places with Kenny and ended up in the back seat, drinking Tuborg Gold with Susan and Joe. I moved in and out of consciousness, and heard in the distance Joe repeatedly telling me to stop grabbing his crotch. We made it to somewhere, maybe Burlington, where we stopped in the parking lot while Roxy helped Susan deal with some bad medicine; the Rolling Stones You Can’t Always Get What You Want played on the radio; the most memorable part of the evening was when we ended up in Lahaska at Peddler’s Village, to use the facilities. I found Roxy in the men’s room, just as she had proceeded to leave lipstick covered lip prints all over the mirror. We walked back to her car, and I pulled up a clump of yellow flowers, roots and all, from one of the beds and presented them to her.
Somewhere between Lahaska and Levittown, I went down for the count. We arrived back at my parents’ house after what seemed like an eternity, but I believe it was only c. 11:30 PM. Joe walked me to the door and practically poured me across the threshold. I went to my room and passed out, only to be awakened by my concerned parents minutes later, worried that I was permanently brain damaged from the alcohol and whatever other chemicals were coursing through my bloodstream (maybe I was.)
So, what’s the big deal? I went out with some friends and got a bit plastered – maybe it was the first time, but it was certainly not the last. No, the big deal was that somehow, during the course of the night’s events, I came to identify something that sparked inside me to question the status quo, to embrace the new, to explore, to examine, to feel, to care, to love, and find out once and for all exactly who I am, what do I believe, and what is important to me.
Maybe it was all just coincidence, but I don’t think that it was; the friends I was with that evening were friends who encouraged me, who saw in me the potential, and believed in me. Out of the energy we shared, on that night and others, came the writer, artist, designer, reader, gardener, hiker, lover, husband and father that I am today.
Pride comes in many forms. As a father of two remarkable children, I’ve been fortunate to share in so many astonishing and proud moments in my kids’ still-young lives, and can only imagine the things yet to come as my children continue to grow and learn and inspire. To watch one’s children grow and develop into genuinely good, self-confident men and women should be an experience with which all parents should be graced, and I am quite certain that Bubs and MizBubs are beaming with pride as their eldest embarks on her career as a horror-movie makeup artist. I truly, truly mean that in a very good way.
That being said, why oh why am I not at all surprised here…? Seriously, to anyone who knows Bubs now, or ever knew Bubs, say, 30 years ago, it should come as no surprise that his progeny is following in the footsteps of dear old Dad’s love of the horror genre. Not that there’s anything wrong with this at all, mind you, but it certainly is no surprise!
Anyway, for what it’s worth, here’s my bit to promote one half of the O’Sullivan girlies’ attempt to win fame and fortune in Hollywood as the next Fangoria Spooksmodel, and to maybe pick up a marker from Bubs for some free drinks someday. You never know when that will come in handy.
So, as they say in Philadelphia, vote early and vote often, You know, deep down in your heart, that Nurse Nora is the best of the best.
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I really do know that this Saturday is Valentine’s Day – I’ve known it for the past several weeks, and I know enough to let E. know that I know. So, in letting her know that I know that Saturday is Valentine’s Day, I had suggested that we stay at home and I will prepare dinner for her, which she thought was a great idea. Back in the day, when we were younger and had much more time, it was not an uncommon occurrence for me to prepare dinner for my significant other, but in the past few years those occurrences have really been few and far between, which is really a shame, since I do enjoy preparing a special dinner, and I am usually pretty good at it.
Anyway, so now that the plans are laid, the critical decision of what to prepare remains. I’m thinking perhaps shellfish… I recently read from a friend a recipe for a remoulade, which caught my attention as being something I’d love to try (thank you, Bubs); another friend recommended a Piper Sonoma Brut sparkling wine, which I believe will be a perfect match (thank you, missmew.)
I must admit at this point I am totally intrigued and pretty damn excited about getting back to work in the kitchen.
I met Warren in the Spring of 1978, when I was a sophomore at Bishop Egan High School, in the old Torvian yearbook office. At that time, I had been involved in the Drama Club, CSC, and a few other clubs, but I was just a 15 year old kid with no particular ambitions, flying under the radar of the attention received by the more popular and well-known kids.
Warren, along with Marty Bergen, had just been named as Editor-in-Chief of the 1979 yearbook, and was prepping the office for its takeover by the new administration; my sophomore classmate, Joe, introduced me to Warren, and right away I could tell that Warren was not your typical high-school student. He was amazingly worldly and intelligent, and possessed an incredibly sharp and acerbic wit.
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It should be mentioned that I was a “techie” – a student who attended both BEHS and Bucks County Technical School across the street. At that time, the stereotypical profile of a “techie” was of burn-out of below average smarts, of someone facing a future in the trades and making a living with their hands, and someone certainly not capable of gaining admission to a 4-year college. Upon learning that I was a “techie”, at first Warren believed that I must meet that profile, but as I spent more and more time in that Torvian office with Warren, he was able to see that I was not your typical “techie”, and he grew to appreciate my own worldliness, intelligence and wit. Although Warren used to joke with me many times about my being a “techie”, he also inspired me to go beyond the “techie” stereotype, to become a valuable contributor not just to the yearbook but to life at BEHS as well.
In the Fall of 1978, Warren named me as the Art Editor (and pet “techie”) for the 1979 yearbook; I worked closely with Warren to help deliver a quality yearbook (those are my Egan eagle drawings at the beginning of the different sections of the yearbook…) and I was eventually nominated in the Spring of 1979 by Warren to serve as the Editor-in-Chief of 1980 Torvian. Thanks to Warren’s ability to see past the “techie” stereotype, I was able to co-chief, with my friend Roger, the 1980 Torvian. I even took over Warren’s job at the Bucks County Free Library when he left for school at Penn in September 1979. I eventually graduated from LaSalle University in 1984 with a degree in Computer Science.
I learned so much from Warren, whether it was joining him in a protest after Spirit Day 1979 outside of the Courier Times offices on Route 13 after a scathing article was written about rampant drug use at BEHS, or journeying to Valley Forge Military Academy to better our journalism skills at the annual Press Day, or even attending an Elvis Costello concert at the Tower Theater on a Saturday night with Warren, Joe, Ed, Gina, Susan and a mob of other friends. It is strange to imagine, but I can say with certainty that my own life would have turned out very differently had I never met Warren Stewart.
The last time I saw Warren was in the summer of 1981. Jbubs moved away with his family to Chicago in the summer of 1979 (at one going-away party for Joe, Warren let me wear his gila-monster costume, as seen in the top right photo on page 86 of the 1978 Torvian) but had returned to visit two years later, and we paid a surprise visit to Warren at his family home in Thornridge. We sat with his Dad on his living room couch watching ‘Jeopardy’ on the television, but before long we had to leave. I’ve thought about Warren many times since those BEHS days, and often wondered where his life took him. Now I know, and I wish we had remained in touch. I am truly saddened to learn of Warren’s health struggles and untimely death, and I’m now finding myself thinking about his memory and missing him more than ever. My prayers go out to Warren’s family and friends.
Warren’s Grave Site
A Warren Memorial Blog
A Warren Photo Album
Jon Mullane’s column in The Courier Times
Saturday. June 9. 1979. Cutting the lawn in the morning. Susan’s graduation party in the evening. 51 Fairview Avenue. “Heroes” I think I may have picked up a ride home with Zsoka? Too many years ago to say for sure…
Saturday. June 2. 1979. SAT in the morning. jbubs’ 60’s party that evening. 16 Kenmore Drive. Daisies and flower children.
Friday. May 25. 1979. 91 Fairview Avenue. Roxy’s graduation party. A bunch of LP’s left at Roxy’s house (to be returned some days later the next week by Susan)…
Friday. May 11. 1979. jbubs, Ed, Roxy, Susan, me. Morrisville Drive-In. Dawn Of The Dead. Tootsie-Roll Pops. View the May 9, 1979 journal entry here.
Friday. May 4. 1979. 05-04-79. jbubs, Kenny, Roxy, Susan, me. Road trip. Lahaska. Twenty Eight years. Unforgettable. View the May 9, 1979 journal entry here.
June 2, 1979 – took my one and only SAT that morning at Woodrow Wilson High School. Later that evening, jbubs held a “60’s themed” party at his house on Kenmore Road; E. Wagner arrived dressed as a white Jimi Hendrix. Scuse me, while I kiss the sky…
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