It isn’t fair. My family is from Germany, but it’s not like we ever get to go there. I’m sitting in the little room, smoking, using an old jam jar as an ashtray. I have The Clash on full blast which is loud even for me, but my parents hate it so much and I know when I do this it makes the family room floor above me vibrate. They’re trying to watch TV up there — probably the local news or something boring like that. Good luck with that.
Laurie’s family is from Ireland and they go there all the time. I mean, at least once every year. And if that’s not unfair enough, this year — like right now — they have gone to London, for the entire month of August. Laurie has been saving her money for months. I gave her some, too, to get me something cool, like some limited edition 12” singles you can’t get here and some band shirts. I know she’s going to take the best ones for herself, but as long as she brings me back something.
It’s not like I can return the favour. We’re doing what we always do: visiting my grandparents who hate me then driving to the States. I’ll fight with my brother in the car, I won’t be able to smoke whenever I want, I’ll have to use my Walkman instead of my stereo, my mom won’t like the clothes I want, and it will be sweaty and totally unfair.
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Image: The Clash, MTV: Who’s Who in Rock Video, Zomba Books, 1983.
Welcome to the Little Room is a series of 250-word re-imagined vignettes from my ’80s youth with a focus on music and style. It appears weekly on periodicult.com.
