"Guess he's gotta be home then," Blake said. But the moment we struck the opening chord to a Hard Day's Night in the school gym and I saw her whip around to find the source of this joyous noise, I knew she was ours. Tammy was homecoming queen back in high school and Brad's girl. "Tammy was a lying bitch," Brad said, trudging away. "Remember when Zach banged Tammy," I said. "Remember when I kicked your asses," he said. "Nope," Blake said, "but I see you're still doing your spot-on impression of a giant sack of shit."īrad started to go red in the face, which was usually our cue to run away. So what's up with you three? You still doing your shitty Beatles' impersonations?" ![]() "Yo Brad," I said, "you seen Zach around?"īrad shook his head. "If it ain't the losers in the sky with diamonds," he said, repeating the same joke he used to say back in high school over a decade ago. Big Brad, the ex-jock responsible for my broken nose and a hairline scar behind Zach's ear. Big Brad, star high school linebacker until a knee injury got him into the starting lineup of the paint department at Home Depot. ![]() I didn't even know his mom had gotten cancer.īrad sauntered up. While I lived nearby in Chicago and still drummed in the occasional Beatles' cover band, Zach and I hadn't spoken in years. Zach had sent us each an email telling us of his mother's passing and asking if we would come home for her service. While Todd could play just about anything on guitar, he always looked like he belonged more with The Grateful Dead. Todd was our George, and he was a big, chubby guy with a full beard who now lived in LA recording music for video games. "Maybe he doesn't feel like celebrating," Todd said. "It's not a funeral, it's a life celebration," I said. "You can't miss your own mother's funeral." But with his receding hairline and the fact that he'd traded in his granny glasses for contact lenses, he looked more like the overworked DC attorney that he was. Blake was our John, and he still had Lennon's thin face and inquisitive eyes. ![]() We had come for Karen Sandberg's memorial service, Zach's mom, but her boy was nowhere to be found. Which is why three of us were gathered near the back of a half-empty banquet hall on a Tuesday night in Zion, Illinois, in early November. She loved the Beatles that much, and she passed that love onto the four of us. What probably happened is Zach's mom hooked up with a 'Paul' from a Beatles' cover band. So much so, it was rumored that his mother must have hooked up with McCartney when the Beatles came through Urbana-Champaign, Illinois.īut the Beatles never toured Urbana-Champaign in 1985. Zach, you see, was a dead ringer for Paul McCartney. It was Zach's idea to start a Beatles cover band in high school. How'd I do it? Well, put a wig on me and stick me behind a drum kit and I make a pretty good Ringo Starr. Basically, all the essential ingredients for a miserable high school experience.īut I dated two different cheerleaders my senior year. I'm short, I can't fight, and I'm pretty much anxious all the time. I can't throw a football, hit a baseball, and whatever it is you're supposed to do with a lacrosse stick.
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