Name:john douglas Location: Chicago, Illinois, United States Gender:Male
Interests:friends, music, coffee, mary, pipes, walking and screaming at solar eclipses Expertise:listening, buying tacos Occupation:vigilante social work Industry:ministry industrial complex
dreadnok ripper played a show on saturday night. it went well. pretty much every show that dreadnok ripper plays, i feel like i am going to die. honestly, i wouldn't really have it any other way. more often than not a show starts with our song "nightmare". Every time we get on "stage" I start off really excited and i like to try to muster up all of energy, however, about half way through the song, I can hardly breathe and I tell myself that I will not be able to make it through the set. Needless to say, I always survive. At our show on saturday I remember looking at this pole, quite a few times throughout our set as if it were the most comfortable thing ever, and that leaning on it for just 2 minutes might help me make it through the next song.
I have been trying to book all ages shows more and more, but it seems that we always just get shows at bars. I have been telling myself that all we need to do is play more all ages shows and these kids would really get into it. I don't think that it's going to happen. I have been joking that we are too hardcore for most people, and not thrash, vegan, and straightedge enough for the real PUUUNKS. It is unfortunately kinda true.
So why am I typing this? Partially, because I saw this picture and it perfectly sums up how I feel most of the time when we play shows. Partially, to complain about stupid kids (but i erased it). Partially because I couldn't ask to play music with better people, because they don't exist. I really love these guys, and I play every single show that we play for them. They are the only 5 people in the room that i care to please when we play. (also partially to see if Mike would complain about my sentence fragments)
install gabe's bidet cut cymbals and take the leftovers to the scrapyard set up mom's mac clean out trunk donate shit organize kitchen deep clean bathroom and tub work on drums-- get them sounding good-- swap gear sell things at reckless make some killer turkey burgers on the grill record new brunette organ/xylophone visit ridgeway hang out with dad/barb/maggee/amy/mom cupping at intelligentsia
Tommy led us through a parking lot, we squeezed through a gangway and went down a set ofdilapidated stairs.He pulled out a tiny key and with great enthusiasm said, “I bought my own lock”.He put the key in the lock and opened the door with a hockey-style body check.The door creaked as he fumbled around in the dark to find the pull string to turn the light on.The lightrevealed something in between a crawl space and a basement.Tommy had a little “room” set up in the corner.An overstuffed couch, an ashtray, a TV on a crate and a couple of backpacks.
“What do you think of my spot Douggie?”Yeah... he calls me Douggie sometimes... I amtrying to fix that.
“Oh wait, I forgot the best part”, Tommy said as he fished around behind his couch and plugged in an extension cord.The whole basement lit up, literally, like Christmas.The business thatoccupies the first floor uses this space to store their Christmas trees, garland and wreaths.Tommy, my outreach partner and I basked in the glow of Christmas on a gloomy night inFebruary.
In all honesty, it was a great spot for Tommy.He stayed there, on and off for a couple of years.It was dry, warm and safe.The owners didn't seem to mind as long as he didn't wreck up the place.Tommy is a street kid.He has been living in Chicago's forgotten places since he was fourteen.He made a living off of stealing for quite a while.After he wound up in prison a few too many times he switched to prostitution as a survival tactic.Now twenty-eight, Tommy has spent half of his life on the street.
A couple of weeks after our visit, Tommy let another homeless guy stay in his spot.It was really cold and this kid was sick, so Tommy gave him his key and trusted him to do the right thing.The next time Tommy went to his spot there was a new lock on the door.
After this, he excitedly told me about new squats that he heard of and tried to bounce ideas off of me concerning the logistics (usually these logistics included a hacksaw, bolt cutters, tents, or getting a couch onto the roof of some unoccupied business).Not wanting to be anaccomplice, I constantly tried to steer Tommy into more sustainable options, such as housingprograms, Social Security assistance, job training, etc.
After over four and a half years of hanging out with Tommy without seeing much change, Ireceived a phone message in my mailbox.“Doug, Tommy has an apartment now and he was wondering if we had some household items that he could use.”
I called him back.Turns out that Tommy got hired as a custodian and saved up enough to get a deposit and his first months rent.My coworker Lennette and I went into our storage area and began assembling everything that we thought he would need starting out in his first legitapartment.Pots, pans, cleaning supplies, ice cube trays, sheets, pillows, lamps, silverware, a shower curtain, glasses, coffee cups, a coffee maker and so on all got packed up in our Outreach van.That night as Nicole and I headed out for work, we gave Tommy a call.
“Hey Tommy, did we wake you up?”
“You kidding? I am still on street time.I have been laying down since nine trying to fall asleep.”
“Mind if we swing by with some housewarming gifts?”
When we arrived on his block, Tommy came walking out in some slippers and Simpsonspajamas.His eyes lit up as we started unloading the boxes full of goods.He just about fell over when we handed him his new favorite possession... a George Forman grill with the bun warmer on top.
We sat around his kitchen table talking and goofing around like normal people until he seemed tired enough to fall asleep.Tommy, the guy that used to write me letters from prison-- the guy that lived life from day to day, couch to couch, park bench to park bench was sitting with us in his apartment.The guy that used to come to Emmaus to take a shower and eat a meal justinvited me and my wife to a barbeque at his home.
