Every week, we’ll be posting a new illustration by David Lester. The Mecca Normal guitarist is visually documenting people, places and events from his band’s 42-year run, with text by vocalist Jean Smith.
Buddy’s Got Issues (sociopolitical analysis posing as fiction in five parts in March)
“I can get along with anyone! It’s my super power!” Buddy yelled at the bouncer who was walking him briskly out of the bar.
“No one asked you about your super power, Buddy,” the bouncer said. “You’ve been stood in front of that slot machine for two hours. Time to go home.”
“You can’t kick me out! I haven’t done anything wrong!”
“It’s fine if you want to spend every last penny, but it’s another thing to go around asking to borrow money from customers.”
“I’ve got every right!” Buddy yelled, grabbing at the door handle as he was ejected.
“Not really!” the bouncer said, giving Buddy a final push onto the sidewalk.
“It’s a public place and I can talk to anyone I want!”
“I’ve told you a hundred times, Buddy. It’s not public. It’s a private business.”
“You’re just one of these libtards who makes a new rule every time they think no one’s looking!” Buddy yelled as he headed across the street to his spot by the dollar store where he played harmonica and sold small amounts of pot to a handful of regular customers, mostly guys his age, guys in their 60s some might be tempted to call misfits, except that if you added them all up, these angry old guys made up a fairly large percentage of the population. Sometimes a few of them stood around with Buddy talking about god-only-knows-what since none of them followed the news. They were guys who had fallen by the wayside due to injuries on the job, the misery associated with divorce and their general inability to hide a degree of seething that manifested on the regular in the form of bragging and bullying. Losers.
For a laugh, Buddy occasionally wore a cop uniform he got at a thrift store. And yes, it was amusing to see a cop busking, but if you knew Buddy, you’d also know that on the days he wore the cop uniform, he was just that extra bit louder on the harmonica and slightly bolder in his dealings with his customers who in turn were somewhat anxious about chitchatting with someone who looked like a cop.
to be continued
“When You Build A House Without Doors” from The Eagle And The Poodle (Matador, 1996) (download):
