Punk’s Not Junk

A Short Story (Part 2).

Sometimes I get sidetracked when I talk about Ray. His story has very little (ok, nothing) to do with what happened when we were five, but it was our very first encounter and I believe it has significance.

Not that he even remembered my racy proposition, or the scolding that his grandmother gave me, but it was an experience that I, myself, never forgot. Because of that, I felt connected to Ray, even if that bond was unrequited.

When I saw him there in Leon’s Records, that memory was alive, and the golden boy who stood before me – between two very large bodyguards – was a part of who I was. 

Of course, I say this now – rather coolly – because I’ve had years to process it. At the time, I was anything but cool. I was dumbstruck. Freddy had to ring Ray up at the register because I was not only speechless, my feet would not move.

Then, just like in kindergarten, Ray was escorted out… never to return.  

I looked for him in several phone books. With a name like Raymond James McGillicuddy, how hard could it be to find him? Well, as it turned out, it was virtually impossible. As far as the white pages were concerned, Raymond James McGillicuddy did not exist. 

A year or so later, we had a shipment of cassettes come in. I had to reorganize the clearance section because there were a ton of 8-track tapes that Leon wanted to dump by way of a quick sale. That would help make room for the new cassettes.

Underneath the display table that held the “crap we would never sell” (Freddy came up with the name), I found a couple of boxes full of merchandise. One of them had been marked with a Sharpie, and it read: GOOD MAGAZINES – DO NOT THROW OUT! 

Freddy was like a magazine aficionado. His years of bullying had rendered him friendless – (except for me but that’s a whole nother story) so after high school he spent his time either working at the record store, or reading books and magazines.

When he disappeared into the stockroom, with the box of magazines, I knew exactly what he was up to. 

“Read those later,” I chided. “Get out here and help me finish so we can go home!”

I peeked my head in and sure enough, Freddy was sprawled out on Leon’s ratty old couch – and several of the magazines were strewn about. I was about to lose it when one of the magazines grabbed my attention.

“Oh My God,” I said, snatching it up and eyeballing the cover. “It’s him!”

There was good reason that Raymond James McGillicuddy could not be found. He was now James Ray. And, according to Punk’s Not Junk, he not only existed… he was famous!

READ ON

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I have a lot of thoughts after finishing Part II tonight. First of all, I had to stop and do an edit when I talked about searching for Ray.

My first instinct was to say that I Googled him. It wasn’t until I went to add “and then I checked Facebook and Instagram” that I realized these things didn’t even exist in the 70s or even the 80s! Sheesh. How did we ever find people? Ha-Ha!

I had a lot of nostalgia writing this. I’m always very grateful for technology because it has helped me in so many ways… but at the same time, it’s sad when you think of all of the things that got replaced and sent to pasture.

I think the main thing I thought about was the fact that it’s kind of weird that those of us in the older generation can actually write about the days before cellphones, or the internet, or google.

We don’t need to do research because we were there. Living it! I just thought that was pretty cool. Rather than making me feel old, it made me grateful that I was able to witness some of the transformations.

Anyway, that’s about all for now.

Thank you so much for reading… I hope you’re enjoying the story!