When I was first dating my wife I was intensely jealous of Nick Cave.
I didn't know much about Cave besides that my slacker friends from the early 90's were all into him, and like with their enthusiasm for hard drugs I sort of regretted my inability to share in it. Faith used to love to work Nick Cave into any conversation she could, and she had a photo prominently displayed of Nick and Blixa Bargeld, smoking cigarettes and looking achingly cool in a way that no mortal boy could ever hope to live up to. When you're young and head-over-heels about a new chick, you're capable of viewing a 50¢ postcard as legitimate romantic competition, I guess.
Fast forward more than ten years, and I'm playing Mr. Mom this weekend so that Faith and a few other middle-aged housewives can spend it getting their punk rock on with Nick and... and whatever that is that he's let happen to the top part of his mouth.
5 comments:
ha ha. Funny shit man. I love the honesty in your writing. I'll probably learn more about you through your blog than the year I sat next to you at good old, RIP., Stretch. Nice to see that you have doing an illustration a day. And now it's my turn to be honest. I am green with envy at your ability to caricature people. That Chris Dodd is dead on. Keep it up man.
I had girlfriend who loved Nick Cave and Robert Butler (Psychedelic Furs). It didn't work out.
Sorry, that was Richard Butler
Who are you calling a middle-aged housewife? Love, Aaron
You, ya old battle-axe.
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