Tuesday, March 5, 2013

Piss the Punk


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Kyle Nelson
Kristina Rogers
English 1A
February 19, 2013
Piss the Punk
I used to love going on little adventures into the city. I grew up in a city called San Bruno which is located right outside of San Francisco. Back when I was in middle school and was too young to drive a car to get around I relied on three things, my legs, my skateboard and the bus. I hated taking the bus but every once and awhile you would meet some interesting people or see some crazy things happen especially in the city. One day on a trip to Haight and Ashbury I met Piss.
When I was 13 years old I couldn’t wait for friday to come. Although I'm sure every kid loved fridays I wasn't allowed to leave the house to go anywhere to hang out with friends during the week. Every weekend me and my best friend would take the bus into the city up to Haight St to go buy records at Amoeba Music. The middle school I went to was a school that made us wear uniforms. I couldn't stand them. We had to wear white, green or black polo shirts with either black or khaki pants until they banned black clothes because kids would come to school in all black everyday. Friday after school I walked home and grabbed something to eat and changed into my normal clothes before I headed out. Now by normal clothes I don't mean plain blue jeans and a band shirt. Normal clothes to me at that time were clothes that resembled the hippie style of my favorite guitar player, Jimi Hendrix. Thrift stores like Goodwill or random places on Haight were always the best when in came to finding random cool psychedelic outfits. My favorite outfit was my die dye banana republic jeans, purple vans, Hendrix tee shirt, purple blazer with band pins covering the lapels, and a scarf I had cut in half to wear around my head through my big afro. Dressing like this every day you could probably understand why I hated being forced to wear uniforms at school. Before I left the house I called my friend Adam who
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lived in the next town over in South San Francisco to let him know to meet me on the next bus.
It was a normal foggy day and the bus wasn't on time which was nothing new. As the bus pulled up I groaned after seeing who the driver was. It was this older asshole with his big glasses and white mustache which always made him look like a cop. Almost every time I saw him he would try to get me to pay the adult fee because he thought I was 18. He wouldn't believe me when I would tell him to go bug me about it in 5 years on my 18th birthday. As I walked to where I usually sat in the back of the bus I noticed this squatter punk looking guy sitting back by the window. He had a grown out mohawk, nose ring, was dressed in dirty looking sun bleached black pants and a black punk band shirt that was cut into a tank top. The guy looked like he was in his late 20's. With him he had a black back pack from which he pulled out a tall can of beer and took a sip.
As I sat down across from him he looked at me and complimented me on the Black Flag pin that was on my jacket. I replied by complimenting him on his band shirt. When the bus got to the stop near Adam's house he got on and sat next to me. You could tell that we were together because Adam also dressed like no else around. Just like I looked like my favorite musician Jimi Hendrix, Adam also looked like his favorite musician who happened to be the bass player of The Ramones, Dee Dee. He wore skinny jeans with the knees naturally ripped out from skateboarding, worn out all white Ked shoes, black shirt, and leather jacket with band pins also covering the lapels. He even had the straight black long hair that The Ramones were known for. The guy struck up a conversation about music and asked us what else we listened to and if we played any instruments. After talking for awhile he told us he was trying to get to Haight st and asked us if we knew how to get there. We explained that once we got to the city he needed to catch two more buses and that we were also on our way over there so he could join us if he wanted. He asked us our names and when we replied he introduced himself as Piss. I asked, “Why is your name Piss?” He showed me the side of his index finger where there was a poorly done tattoo that read “piss”. He explained that it was a self made stick and poke that he had tattooed on
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his finger when he was 9 years old, ever since then his friends called him Piss.
We got off our first bus and sat at the Bart station waiting for our next one to come. There Piss told us about his life, and how he became a squatter punk. He told is he was from a town in Illinois where he hated living. He had gotten into punk music and politics at an early age from one of his older friends in his neighborhood which is who he learned how to do stick and poke tattoos from. Growing up he never had a good relationship with this parents. On the morning of his 18th birthday his dad came into his room with empty boxes and told him to pack up his things because they wanted him out of the house by the end of the day. Ever since then he has been traveling around the country never having a permanent home or a stable job. He asked us if we wanted some of his beer but we declined and told him that we didn't drink. He admitted that throughout the years of traveling he had become an alcoholic but told us that he has learned to stay away from drugs. Within the first couple of years after getting kick out of his parents house he has seen a lot of peoples lives get destroyed because of drugs. Some people become homeless because of drugs but the only reason that Piss has continued living on the streets is because he enjoys it. Piss told us that he has total freedom from being held down in one spot from living in a house or having a job. He also got to look and dress how ever he wanted without any repercussions. The first impression I had gotten from Piss was that he was just a looser, but he was actually intelligent. As we got to our last bus stop we decided to skip it and walk the rest of the way, we talked about politics, President Bush, WWII, The Vietnam War and our current war in Iraq.
When we got to Haight St me and Adam said our goodbyes to our new friend. Before he left we each gave him a dollar as he thanked us for showing him the way through the city. We then made our way into the record store. Me and Adam talked about how cool it was to meet a person like Piss who you would think is just some looser with a alcohol addiction but ended up being a pretty smart guy. Later on we saw Piss hanging out with all the other street punks a couple blocks away. We never saw him again until one day when 5 years later as me and Adam were walking down Telegraph which is
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Berkeley's version of Haight, this man across the street yells “Hey I know you guys!” We couldn't recognize who is was at first but then the man ran across the street came closer we realized that is was Piss! Aside from gaining a few pounds he looked pretty much the same. We were so shocked to run into him 5 years later when he could have been anywhere in the country by then. We were even more shocked that although for being drunk at the time we met him in the past and probably drunk now that he even remembered who we were. He told us he was still living life on the streets and having fun. Before we left we gave him a couple dollars just as long as he would promise us that he would use the money for food instead of alcohol.
I learned a few things from Piss that day. If something bad happens in life then you just have to be optimistic make the best of it because in the end everything is going to turn out ok. In his case, getting kicked out of his parents house happened to be a good thing because he learned that he loves to travel and now he gets to travel anywhere wants. Another thing is to do what ever makes you happy. Although the majority of people look down on others like Piss, he's doing what he wants with his life which makes him happy.  

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