Christopher Scum vs Alcohol
Christopher Scum vs The Drug
Alcohol
I thoroughly undoubtedly believe I was
somehow born alcoholic. Whether it just happens randomly, luck of the draw, or
if along with my good looks my Bio Pops left me the alcoholic gene, if indeed
there is one. Thank fuck he didn't leave me his balding gene because I’ve seen
pictures of the creep at 21 and he had already receded past any hope. Some
girls must like the circle hair do cause when I met him I was 13 and he probably
33 and that’s what he had going on, the ring of hair with a little bitty pony
tail in the back and OUTLAW Biker tattoos but was a Baptist preacher. Enough of
him, he’s of no importance other than all he gave me was the gene that’s caused
me more trouble than anything.
I started sneaking beers from my step Dad
#1 at about 5. By six I could drink three cans of beer,I can’t remember what he
drank but it was in a small rounded bottle or a can, maybe Colt 45? The cans I loved
cause I’d shake them up when I’d bring them to him. I used to also turn his bic
lighters up full blast so it get him off guard.
Moving ahead a couple years to step dad #2,
I remember they took me to a Wedding; their best friends were being wed, how
sweet. I took the opportunity to go around sucking down half full glasses of Champaign. I was seeing them as half glasses, how could I get
drunk off half of little plastic cups. I must have had me 10 or 15 of them, no
one even noticed until I caught a huge water snake; just a gardener water
snake, not poisonous but very big. I was eight maybe nine and had been on the
farm a couple years; I had caught hundreds of snakes. I knew all these city
folk probably hadn’t seen a snake that size and in my drunkenness I figured
they’d be fascinated. I was very wrong, people ran, screamed, even got in their
cars, you would have thought I lead a lion into the crowd. For some reason, I
didn’t get a beating that day, I probably deserved it but I somehow escaped.
Fast forward a few years my parents knew
I was fucking around with weed and Drink, so on New Years Eve. I stayed home
and my mom got me a pint of Tequila. I drank it, even knowing right away I was
no tequila man, Still I got trashed, puked, got on the phone and got 3
different girls to be “my girlfriend” this had to be “Expunged from the record”
and I lost very good friends.
Fast forward another year. At 12-13 I
started drinking at least 3 times a week. Even then my friends from Manchester and Aberdeen bitched that I drank to fast and they had to take
care of me.
At 15 I moved to a different school, made a
different class of friends and I really started drinking. Seemed the more
popular kids drank harder and certainly more often than the hoodlums I was accustom
at my other School. It went from 3 times a week to every chance I got. I took
to bringing beer home and drinking in this back Building we had. There was my
step fathers shed then his wood shop but another run down building which was
perfect for drinking in.
My high school friends got sick of my
drinking habits as they would say you suck down all the beer as fast as you can
then expect us to baby-sit you.
I was also thriving in Tae Kwon Do at the
time also. I remember once I had a tournament to go to but I stayed out with
friends drinking Mad Dog 20/20 waking up in an alley directly across from the
court house. I stumbled around town bought a pack of smokes and a Mountain dew
then I went to the Dojo, School to wait and meet everyone. Fortunately I didn’t
catch a ride with my step dad or Instructor because I’m sure I smelled like a
brewery. I was 15 and a Red Belt in Tae Kwon Do. I was undeniably good, better
than good even. That day I sort of wish never happened. I kicked fucking ass. I
got 1st place in forms (Kata) first place in free fighting and this
was a mixed tournament. This was not the AAU Tae Kwon Do, I fought people of
all styles and the last guy was a Kung Fu “master who did all these ridiculous
jump spinning Crescent kicks that were no where near scoring, I already had him
2 to zip I just waited until he was in the air in front of me and put a well
placed side kick to his ribs. It slid him across the floor into a different
ring, fortunately it was light to medium contact and judges were smart enough
to know that it was the fact he was airborne that he went flying across the
floor, not the force of my skip side Kick. I beat him fairly 3-0 and he came up
shook my hand and bowed as did I but then he says I hate losing to white
people, especially ones in Tae Kwon Do. I didn’t understand this because he was
Black. It’d been different if he was Chinese studying a Chinese art but he was
as American as me. I’m from a small town that literally had one family of
Blacks and they were my friends so I didn’t know anything about Blacks and this
guy knew nothing about me, except he got his ass handed to him.
The Reason I wish this day never happened
is when we got back in the car, this time I was riding with my step father,
just he and I. I guess I had sweated out the liquor smell. I turned the radio
on and I’ll never forget the Rolling stones were playing It’s only rock n roll;
this gave me the green light. I had two first place trophies I won with a
Goddamn hang over!
So, I stepped drinking up a notch. I could
have really done something with Tae Kwon Do but I didn’t. After placing 3rd
in the Jr. Olympics as a freshmen in High School, I could have went far,
probably be fighting MMA to this day. However that’s not what I had in mind.
After a series of brushes with the law one
morning I woke up, stuck my thumb out and hitchhiked to Knoxville TN where my Aunt Flora green lived. Aunt Floe was/is
precious. She now resides in a Nursing home, but she loves me like I was her
own and when I came into her home she welcomed me open arms. She had helped
raise my all my life on and off.
Being the creep that I am I preyed upon
her naivety to drink, before we even got me in a school I was walking to the
closest store and buying cases of beer, I had a hide out down in the woods on
the way to the beer store. I would get slaughtered drunk and walk back down the
interstate, truckers barreling by to where the wind from them would almost
knock my drunken ass over!
Enter high school; I wasn’t there 3 days
before I had to prove myself to the bully crowd. I got in a fight in my front
yard and beat a kid half silly. His group of friends came up to me the next day
declaring peace so I said fine. I made friends with the kid later but he tragically
died 4 wheeling flipped a jeep on his head. It hurt me because he had become
one of my “drinking buddies”
Just like my last school I immediately
fell in the semi popular crowd but I was also down with rednecks as they called
themselves, but I sold pot to afford my drinking. I drank every night,
generally starting right after school.
I started hiding 12 packs in
a barn so I could drink half before school and get the rest to get me started
after school. I never was short of money because I always sold weed. I started
hiding liquor in my locker to keep a buzz all day. I was addicted but things
just went better with alcohol.
I fucked up and fell in love with a preppy
big haired girl. This slowed drinking down a bit but not much; however I did
stop drinking at school and right after. She broke up with me for the 1st
time shortly after I was kicked out of school for fireworks. I went nuts, it
was brown liquor every night, I would get blind drunk and drive my 64 Chevy
Impala super sport, a Classic car that I never should have owned. It had a 327 engine
and was automatic on the floor, gold in color with a white top. The power of
that engine kept breaking motor mounts. It is a miracle I didn’t kill someone
else with that care but at the same time a tragedy I didn’t take myself out in
a single car accident. I destroyed the car.
Fast forward to 18 I started going to
jail, started with a few PD’s but then I pulled some stupid shit. I tried to
run in a store and run off with beer with no ride waiting, shoplifting charge.
Then I ran into a Homeless fellow at the beer store we were both counting
change. I’d seen this guy around the Fort, the neighborhood I lived in so we
pooled our money and got 3 quarts of beer. We split one and he got up off my
porch and said well, I got to run. I was like that’s cool then just leave me
one of those beers. He started to give me one but then said I’m an alcoholic I
have to have these and started walking away. Strong armed robbery charge which
I did time for.
Got out DUI wrecked my lil 1974 Celica damn I
loved that car.
I swore off driving after this and just
lived in the fort. I accumulated so many PDs when they’d bring me to the City
Jail people would yell out my name. I was down with Black and White Boys; I had
my hair real long with a Red Streak in it. By the CO’s I think I was seen as a
freak, by inmates, especially convicts I was totally accepted. I didn’t come in
running my mouth or start shit with anyone but when it came to bullying I was
quick to let mother fuckers know. Hell, I was taking man size ass whippings
with fist and feet at 9 yrs. old so there was nothing these guys could threaten
me with.
Age 21 I started experiencing withdrawals,
first just the shakes and sleeplessness. Then I would go into what I call inner
DTs. I wasn’t seeing or having audio hallucinations yet but my mind went crazy,
I’d get paranoid. I lived with 2 roommates both who drank just about like I did
but I don’t recall either going into withdrawals as I did. Todd, my best friend
and self adopted big brother was about 9 yrs my sr. drank just like me.
Actually he was ahead of me, it was him that finally put my mind to rest about
going crazy, as I thought I was on the verge of Schizophrenia, multiple
personalities, something horrible. Todd is the only one that understood, I was
talking about it and he said you crazy fucker you’re alcohol sick. He explained
it too me. I had already drank myself out of the best band I had ever imagined
being in, I practiced Bass up to 4-6 hrs a day, it was Todd that pointed out
that had given away to drinking as well. But that was because the only way I
got any relief was while drinking and not just a few beers I had to get my mind
to a point of quietude that at this point in my life took somewhere between
five and eight beers, problem is after five or eight beers there’s no stopping
me. I would usually wake up not remembering anything. I always managed to keep
a job, usually a day time kitchen job. Then I got a night time bar back gig,
this lasted over a year because I could slip drinks. Then like a fool I drank a
bottle of vodka before I came in and made a Goddamn fool of myself. Fell in the
kitchen, I was told to go home. I didn’t I went upstairs and was drinking at
that bar and they ran me out of there so I went to the bottom main bar and was
filling my pockets with beers. The Owner or Co owner, Sandra had enough she
screamed at me to get out or she’d call the cops. This was my last job for
awhile.
I borrowed my upstairs neighbors car once, I didn't even think I was that drunk and the plan was to drive to aunt Floe’s and
get money for dope. I made it two blocks before I smashed into another car, a
little VW Bug, totally tricked out, I smacked my head when I looked up it was
rolling across the street and the car I was driving had came to a stop. I
knocked at a door and an elderly lady let me in to use her phone and I went out
the back door, up the alley to a friends house where I called my girlfriend at
the time and she took me home with her where I hid out a couple days.
Shortly after I got on a bus to Austin
Texas, just to try and start over there. Not knowing a soul it was tougher than
I thought. Besides the monumental alcohol problem I had also not brought any
equipment with me.
I fucking joined a Christian Band for a
couple months. They had equipment I could use and believe it or not these guys
were getting paid, paid good. I stayed at a place called the Bunk House, five
bucks a night.
The Christian band called as
Jesus would knew about my drinking but I didn’t do it in front of them or show
up really drunk. Thing was I liked the music we were playing; it was like a
poppy Dinosaur Jr. I came in and I believe gave it a heavier sound because I
would suggest sections, bridges that were just balls out hard. It was putting
several hundred bucks a month in my pocket, we did up to 10 gigs a month
sometimes, when we did that I made real money and put it in the bank. I was
such a phony standing in their prayer circle every night that I sickened myself
and as with everything else in life I sabotaged this by getting too drunk
before a show, a few nights after that I pissed the bed at the Bunk House. I
had to leave in the middle of the night cause I had soaked a sleeping Mexican below
me. Thank Fuck he didn’t wake up, he was obviously as drunk as me. He would
have probably cut me because I’d seen him earlier counting his money, with his
pot all out on the bed and one of those huge butterfly knives.
I had talked to another Band called Skin
Rider and they had came to see
See As Jesus Would (who I
talked into changing the name to Detour), a few times and they liked my Bass
playing. By this time I had sent home for my Fender P, a pure white beautiful
instrument. I had some money in the bank so I rented the Guitarist and lead
singers basement which was a practice room also. It was fixed up bad ass, they
lived up stairs where the Kitchen was but gave me a Microwave, I had a cot in
the corner that I paid 50 bucks a month for. For and amp I used a cheap Yamaha
head I bought and a PA speaker they had. We sounded good. It was fast hardcore,
Ramones meet Motorhead, not a lot of room for anything but straight keep the
beat with drummer bass playing. This time I got them to throw in some bridges,
mid sections and even breaking into total different chord progressions and
speeds for endings. These guys actually dug my lyrics and some parts of songs I
sang on, but not generally on the parts I wrote, those were for lead Bass.
After about the 3rd show of
me being too drunk and several “bladder control” incidents it was decided that
I should go rather than pay into another month’s rent. I was pretty broke. I
was done too. I took out what money I had closing my bank account and sold my Yamaha
bass head which I played $150. at a pawn shop and only got it for that price
because they had no idea what they had. I sold it to Tony, lead guitarist for 80
bucks.
Came back to Knoxville and promptly went to Ohio to my parents where I went crazy there too. I hooked
up with my best friend David Stuttz, I was broke but he, well the girl he was
banging kept me in a black out for months. From spring until fall, we banged it
out and I never had a Goddamn time. Then one night I blacked out and completely
trashed her trailer, no reason, she had been as good to me as a friend a friend
could be. I do have to say a couple people were pitching in but I was the
aggressor. Even plugged her
Bath tub and left the water running. I basically ruined a
home she had paid for, it was hers. I put her on the street. No, I heard she
lived at her parents while the damages were fixed. I have always felt bad about
that one
I decided to take a job at a printing
company with my Step Dad up in Dayton,
Ohio. First problem being I had no place to live, my Step-Granddad
said at least 15 times that he couldn’t take me in. Each time, I would say it a
little louder I’m not looking to be took in. I had made me a camp behind a sign
on the off ramp coming into town. I would even make a small fire there. I drank
wine every night and a quart of before I went in. after two weeks I got a
little room in a boarding house and continued my drink as usual. I lasted about
two weeks until the piss problem sabotaged me again. The land lord put me out
for pissing the bed, also I was drinking beer that didn’t belong to me, playing
loud music. I didn’t argue as I was homesick for my Knoxville crew already.
There was a party going when I hit town, I
had my crew from Ohio who seemed to fit in fine with the Knoxville Punk
Rock crew. It got late and a fight broke out, my boy Todd was in the Middle of
it so I flew into action knocking one guy cold, then catching another with a
front snap kick in the chin. About that time I got sucker punched, hard. By the
time I could even turn to attack the person back my Brother Biker Mark had
flown across a car hood and hit the guy with a liquor bottle. He didn’t hold the
bottle by the neck and club the guy with it, instead he held it by it’s sides
and rammed the bottom corner into dudes head. The bottle didn’t break, I was
glad cause it was my Evan Williams. The guy hit his knees screaming for help, I
stepped forward and kicked him in the face. He rolled over and as I continued
to boot him I realized just how bad he was bleeding. It scared me, I was barley
21 last thing I was looking for was a murder charge. I picked him up by his
white, rapidly turning red sweater and shoved him towards the house across the
street where his friends were. Then I got my bottle back and sat down with my
friend Stuttz who said something like you can take the boy out of Adams Co but
you can’t take the Adams Co out of the boy. Adams County is of course where we all grew up.
Everyone else was raising hell about the
fight I heard someone yell you can’t fuck with Knoxville hardcore, I looked
back and it was some little art fag, I do not mean a homosexual by any means I
mean some guy with bleached white Billy Idol hair wearing some sort of checkered
overalls and a striped shirt with dark sun glasses on. I caught Todd’s eye and
we both bust up laughing. This guy had been so far away from the action he
might as well have been watching through a telescope.
We
were all finally getting settled Stuttz, Biker Mark and I were working on the
bottle and chasing it with beers from a keg. There were two more untapped so
the night was young. All of a sudden gun shots, two of them. Everyone was
running in the house I don’t know what possed me but I capped the bottle and
ran across the street bearing only my smiley, a lock on a chain for those not
in the know, I don’t think they’re very popular these days. I ran right up to
the fence the guy was standing behind holding what appeared to be a 38
revolver, it could have been a 45 but was definitely at least a 38, I could
tell that from barrel size and the size of holes in the revolver. It was chrome
and I have always loved guns.
Nice piece are you gonna kill me with it?
I ask for some reason, probably alcohol I have never been afraid when a gun was
drawn, hell even when they’ve been pointed directly at me, I guess I’m not in
touch with the reality of the situations. The guy was a few years older than
me, probably a Sr. or even a Grad Student. He was crying and he held the gun up
but never pointed it at me. He said I don’t want to. My friend in unconscious
getting stitched up though. I said I didn’t hit him, he hit me when I was
fighting your other boy. He nodded his head as if to say he knew. I even helped
him get back home when I realized he was hurt, we were just partying, we open
our party to you and your boys and what do they do but start shit. He shook his
head and started crying harder. Then he tried to hand me the gun. I don’t want
it but don’t ya think you should put it up before the cops come and go be with
your friends at the hospital? I think your friend, what’s his name? Greg he
sniffled. I think Greg would rather you be there than picking up a gun charge,
you shot twice in the city limits, that’s two felony counts of discharging a
firearm in a residential area. That could be five yrs. at the very least they’re
gonna hit you up for 10 grand in fines, you’ll probably pay five grand just to
make bond. I had no idea what I was talking about but it sounded good. The Kid
croaked I’m sorry at me than hustled back in the house. Fortunately no cops
came so our party drank until the next afternoon, fewer and fewer people until
it was Jim Ellis and Ulrichs who’s party it was, my 3 boys from Ohio, Biker
Mark, and Todd was down in the yard. As they were tapping the final keg I
vaguely remember going to Kroger and stealing a bunch of steak, at least one
for every one. Mark and I went in twice. I don’t know if we looked so ragged
and war torn they just let it slide or we actually went unnoticed. I remember
the firing of the grill and trying to eat, my meat slid off my plate onto the
porch so I had to wash it off, put it back on the grill a few seconds and this
time I ate it with my hands.
When I woke up my Ohio crew was gone and I had somehow made it to Todd’s
porch on the couch. His house was known as Bone Manor.
