Leather jacket...drinks...drunkenness: In many ways it is sad to say I'll never have that sexy drunken jubilance again I remember sexy drunken jubliance before the time I had ever even had sex. Sitting in the parking lot at 'shows' at Madison Square Garden, 14 years old, in my orange chaffon 1960's mini dress with the orange velvet polka dots. I was like a drunken princess surrounded by vomiting skinheads. The 'adults' were like...17. They seemed so old, so sophisticated. I remember going into the alley (probably that alley was none too safe) with Janine and her older male friends (she always had them). We saw an old beat up chair in the alley and one of the guys pointed to this chair and said 'hey, look. Art.' This was the most worldly, witty comment I had heard thus far in my young life. I knew it was apropos of many circumstances but was afraid to repeat it verbatim. Rather, I just tried versions of it on for years.

Now...the sad truth is...while I might still appreciate such a comment almost no one I know would. Years of polishing wit for a non existent target audience, wit down the drain.