hey all. ive missed you. i havent written in a long time. i finally wrote soemthing tonight. well... lemme know what you think of it. please. smile yeah, its my favorite alter ego. tyler. same guy.

oh yeah, lemme emphasize that i _just_ wrote this. its rough. VERY rough.


Another Day

When Tyler woke up, two weeks away from the day that he would finally leave his personal hellhole, his right eye hurt. Not too much, but just enough to be noticed. He complained of it on the way to class that morning to Thomas who, surprisingly, had awakened in time to make it to his first nine o clock class in the last two weeks. Thomas thought that maybe Tyler had pink eye, but Tyler said no, that it wasn?t gunky enough to be pink eye. Thomas shrugged, walked into the building that he had to go to for Spanish class, and Tyler moved towards the first of five classes on Mondays and Wednesdays, Speech 101. Or, as he loved to refer to it, part of the ?Retard Block.? Tyler really didn?t understand the point of the University giving him credit for something, but making him still take the class, but seeing as he was a freshman, he didn?t know how, or have the energy, to throw enough of a fit to make a difference. Throughout Speech class, he did not hear a single word that the Professor said. His mind was racing with the prospect of going home. His main thoughts were of the guitar. He couldn?t wait to pick it up again, strum those chords that he loved, and belt out some of the new songs that he had discovered this year at college. And every single thought that morning contained at least one word, if not the entire line, entire stanza, hell, the entire song of Mr. Axl Rose?s Use Your Illusion masterpiece. ?Don?t Cry? (the original lyrics) was ripping through his head non-stop. Tyler had started listening to that song sometime last night, had continued through the night, and had been awakened this morning by its refrains. If he had his Rio, which he planned to buy this summer, he would be listening to it right now. He didn?t give a damn about the professor or what he thought. He didn?t give a damn about much anything right now. Other than getting tight (his two main expressions of the moment were vintage Hemmingway: ?I don?t give a damn,? and ?You?re awfully tight.? Both did not fit him well at all, but he was in a Hemmingway kick) and playing his guitar over the summer. Seeing as it was Monday morning, the chances of his being able to get tight sometime soon were looking very slim. And so it was that Tyler?s thoughts were dominated by the thought of the guitar, Guns N Roses, Don?t Cry, and his voice covering the song, on a Monday morning when his eye hurt.

When Next We Join Our Hero?

Tyler was home. It was hot. He didn?t care. He had a guitar, a beer, and his CD was playing at full blast on his stereo. Which CD? Why ask? Guns N Roses Use Your Illusion I. Axl Rose. Don?t Cry. Tyler had picked up the chord in the first few days home. He was obsessed. He had two whole CDs burned of things that he wanted to cover, and things that he wanted to learn this summer, but this was the one that he had zoned in on. He sometimes wondered why, considering that he had been obsessed with several of the other songs (in fact all of them) on both of the CDs at various times in the academic year, but he dismissed those thoughts quickly. Who cared why he was obsessed? The fact was that it was helping him learn quicker and better then ever before. He almost had it down. He couldn?t wait to play with the band again. Not his band. Nope. His band was long gone, along with the mohawk, leather jacket, and knife that used to be part of his life. No, the band that he loved to play with now was his brother?s band. The Baked Potatoes. They got stoned a lot. Get it? Tyler wasn?t part of the band or anything, no, let John have the spotlight. John deserved the attention, he was one of the best damn drummers in the city. No, Tyler just liked to jam with the guys sometimes. Occasionally, during one of these sets, Tyler would set up a DAT and record some of the sessions. He figured that if he was ever going to become a real rock star, these could be some helpful demo tapes. Tyler?s eye still hurt, but he thought about it less. He thought more and more about the guitar, his job as a DJ at a local radio station and the Spanish class that he was taking. So far it was a good summer. No girl problems, although he would have liked to have ended it a little better with Bridget back in Washington. She was in Omaha now, and he was home. They didn?t have each other?s numbers. Sometimes he cared. Right now he was wondering when John was going to get home so that he could call the band over and jam. He thought he could get this down. He didn?t need the rest of the band to have the song. Just a basic beat and rhythm would be fine. Tyler would take over from there on out, with the voice and a guitar that sang. At that moment, a knock at the door made Tyler?s heart race. John poked his head in and grinned.

?The guys are on their way over. Don?t waste our time.?

Tyler nodded. He hadn?t heard a word that John had said, but he didn?t need to. His brother knew him well enough to know what he wanted. And Tyler knew John well enough to know that his band was his band, they weren?t just there to support Tyler. ?So make it quick, big brother. I?m catching up to you.? Tyler took the CD off Repeat, and listened to a Temple of The Dog song, an Otis Redding classic, a Fuel cover, Beach Boys, Floyd, and the Beatles. There would be time for them later. He had Axl to deal with now.

The session went well, as Tyler ripped through Don?t Cry with only one error. Afterwards, the band played some generic covers, and Tyler and Derick freestyled over the beat. Derick knew that Tyler could beat him, as he had when he first got home and Derick got a little too cocky, so they didn?t battle this time, they just worked off one another. They both liked it more that way, and it worked better, so that?s the way it went.

?Yo, I rock it to the tree tops, cuz the Baked Potatoes don?t stop, till they hit the tree tops, even a little hip hop above that, at the drop of a hat I?d call Derick phat, y?all don know, but he stole my hat, I was gonna hit im with a bat, but I said fuck that, then my bros left without a singer, even though his voice is a little zinger, hes still got the stinger, the finger, the meaner, the touch, the tough touch, he?s over y?all by much, so on and such and such? Yo D, I?m done, can you mix it up a lil more fun??

?The fun that I drop is bigger than hip hop, bigger even than all of rock. It?s basically like this, we don?t stop, no matter what you pop. So back off from my jock, my cock, cuz Imma follow this band into the Hall of Fame, its our name The Baked Potatoes! motherfucker, you got nothing on us, get off my nuts gonna bust, in John, Leif, and Brendan I trust, it?s a must? But I gotta be honest Tyler, the level of lust, that I feel for your mom isn?t gonna stop till I get her in my palm, so let?s just it over with and say? Oh what the fuck... (he laughed) The Incredible Hulk was hit with rays that were gamma? Now, this is where we come in!?

?Sweet Home Alabama! Well, the skies are so blue. Sweet home Alabama. Lord, I?m comin home to you.? The group all sang together, in chorus to the beat of the song that Derick and Tyler had been flowing over. It was magical. And it was all caught on the DAT that Tyler had set up. He smiled and looked at the boys that he had grown up hating when his brother brought them over and saw a bunch of men that had matured in front of his eyes. Leif soloed the solo from the Lynard Skynard song with ease. He was a born musician. John tapped the beat as though he were born to do it. And Brendan was leaping around the garage with the enthusiasm that was his trademark. Tyler and Derick smiled at each other as Tyler slipped from the group, took off his guitar, and took a black and with photograph of the Baked Potatoes.

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"What about him? What are you doing with him?"
"What you should be doing with me..."

Proud family member of Jelymo, gollum, Kelly, Dano, Jaxom27, Fenix and others.

I believe you can't appreciate real love until you've been burned

"Om Namaha Shivaya." ~ Dano

www.andysworld.itgo.com

[This message has been edited by Oz (edited May 01, 2001).]