New Jersey Stage Issue 43 | Page 16

me from her room on her phone to my phone in the office - “Pat- rick! It’s Mommy!” I’m 55 fuckin’ years old… “It’s Mommy, don’t forget to take the garbage out!” I’m an Italian-American kid from New Jersey who was a gar- bage man till I was 31 years old. I went to bed one night a gar- bage man and I woke the next day a rock and roll star! Strange but true. My parents neither dis- couraged nor encouraged this dream of a lifetime. Ever since I saw The Beatles on The Ed Sulli- van Show - even before that - all I ever wanted to be was in a rock and roll band. But they didn’t watch television. They didn’t go to the movies. It was a very sim- ple life for them. And they were devastated when I quite NYU to form a band called The Smither- eens. They didn’t talk about it, but they were really disappoint- ed because the hurt registered on their face whenever I men- NJ STAGE - ISSUE 43 tioned the band. They just kind of looked down at their bowl of spaghetti and sighed. So anyway, my mother’s older sister, Florence, would call her up. I was living in New York, but I was still working on a garbage truck until the day before we went on tour for the first time, opening for our rock and roll he- roes. Do you remember a band called The Ramones? That was our first experience on the road, but we were experienced our- selves on some level in terms of life. You didn’t quit your day job until you had something lined up, right? That was old school. So, basically, what did it mean? Let me start again. In 1986, the height of technology was prob- ably the telephone answering machine. Think about it. It ran on this now forgotten, but be- loved system called cassette tape. Remember that? When was the last time you had to use INDEX NEXT ARTICLE 16