Soft Rock

Wow. I think I would rather die, personally. Note that it is one block away from the old Al’s Bar. We’d park on Hewitt and head to Al’s to have our ears blasted by the crazy punk rock, three or four bands a night. I remember seeing a dead guy on the 400 block of Hewitt once. Must have been two in the morning. Our ears were ringing. Is he drunk? A cop nudged him with his boot. He didn’t wake up. The night air reeked of urine and Thunderbird and bats darted in and out of abandoned factories. Lamp posts and telephone poles threw moonlit shadows. I wonder who he was someone asked. No one answered. We were drunk and laughing and he was dead and that is just how things were before the soft rock revival.

Soft rock

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