After a long day of viewing rock memorabilia and seeing a fat guy in a Night Ranger t-shirt shake his head at the Lady Gaga exhibit and say, ‘Lady Gaga, gimme a break,’ they made one last stop in the gift shop. His dad bought a Gram Parsons biography for himself and Frankie scored a Ramones tee, a “Velvet Underground & Nico” album and the haunting postcard. 

Thirteen years later at the age of twenty-four Frankie, or as he calls himself Fender Bender Ferraro, is a musician in his own right and that postcard, which is pinned to a cork board three feet from where he works stuff out on his guitar makes him feel incredibly anxious. 

Distressed, Ferraro points to the postcard, “Look at him, in that leather and those aviators, holding that guitar with the little cubes in the corner that say ‘I’m Cold.’ I’ll never be that cool. Sure I can play a little and I’m trying to put together a look, but compared to Lou Reed, I’m a freaking joke. Behind those shades I know he knows I was a little douchebag that got endless participation trophies and was James B. Madison Middle School’s, Hall Monitor of the Year 2012. I mean, this is the guy who wrote “Sweet Jane” and “Street Hassle”.” That monosyllabic name Lou Reed might as well be Rock God. I suck so hard next to him.

Asked why he doesn’t just put the postcard in a drawer and remove the problem Ferraro becomes indignant. “Everybody—my parents, bandmates and my therapist, Feelgood Felicia—says that’s what I should do, but then I would be a quitter like Pete Townshend on the “Lifehouse” project. On top of that, I grew up in this suburban wonderland called Clarence, NY where I had an endless supply of fruit roll ups and pizza logs. I pitted my guilty parents against each other to the tune of double vacations, birthday gifts and Christmases. I got anything I wanted. Lou Reed’s parents on the other hand put him through electroshock therapy to crush his homosexual urges. No, I need the negative energy of the postcard to grow. I need to suffer for my art.”

Ferraro also mentioned that Reed came into contact with some of the coolest people in his formative years. People like Delmore Schwartz and Andy Warhol whereas the most radical person he knows is Josh from Spalding Lake. Josh lives in his parents basement and has these off the hook three day Dungeons and Dragons raves when his parents go to their lodge in the Poconos. Ferraro’s sure at some point a real monster is going to be hired and a real person will be sacrificed.

Coupled with time, effort and the anxiety and judgment from the Lou Reed postcard Ferraro thinks he’ll be able move beyond his current situation of playing lead in a Journey cover band—The Lovin’ Touchin’ Squeezin’ Experience and become the artist that would make the man in the leather and aviators proud. Or, at least the kind of artist he wouldn’t spit on. 

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Over vodka martinis and two-eight-balls the board, which normally is a ceremonial body, deliberated for less than five-minutes before unanimously voting to strip “Just Bob” of his title. Prior to going out and searching for a third eight-ball the Governors issued a terse one line statement: “Go Fuck Yourself Bob, You Intolerant Knob.”  

In recent years most of the rock-n-roll world just shrugged or maybe called “Just Bob,” an asshole for his vocal support of Donald Trump and his criticism of social programs that help the poor and vulnerable. As the son of a man who owned multiple car dealerships it should be noted that Kid Privilege, “Just Bob,” grew up in a six-thousand square foot house and spent excruciating days on his family’s six-acre compound picking apples and riding horses.

Being born a rich rock-n-roll asshole, however, isn’t what prompted the Governors to action. It was “Just Bob,” in a backwards turned MAGA hat going ape-shit like a petulant two-year old with an AR15 on twelve-packs of Bud Light because parent company Anheuser-Busch celebrated Trans Actor/Activist Dylan Mulvaney’s year long Tick Tock series “Days of Girlhood,” which documented her transition, with a likeness on a beer can.

Apparently, “Just Bob,” is the arbiter of the mind, body and souls of all humans—gaining that divine knowledge from growing up in the suburbs picking apples and riding horses. But as the Board of Governors pointed out in another statement after getting the third eight-ball: “Rock-n-Roll was born of the desolation of disaffected youths. Through the years it has evolved to be a safe space where ALL PEOPLE could be themselves without fear or retribution from their parents, the government or rich assholes from the suburbs of Detroit. In strongest terms we again say: “Go Fuck Yourself Bob, You Intolerant Knob.” 

After issuing this second statement several board members vomited in the Chelsea bar just like Iggy Pop in ‘69. 

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With his arrest on charges of insider trading NY 27 Congressman, Chris Collins reign of terror in Western New York is coming to a predictable end. But unlike autocratic Collins who pushed everybody out of his way when he became Erie County Executive in 2007—laying off 1,200 county workers, reducing daycare money to single moms, cutting cultural programs and aid to the library system, while raising property taxes—the U.S. Attorney for the Southern district of New York plans a slow burn kind of love in the prosecution of Collins.

Slipping into his orange jumpsuit to the jaunty funk of Randy Newman’s , It’s Money That I Love the U.S. Attorney might engage Collins in some lighthearted foreplay, reminding him that the job of a congressman is to serve the people, not himself. That, seeking investments and endlessly talking up your biotech company Virionyx which morphed into Innate Immunotherapeutics, while both Erie County Executive and a Congressman is working for yourself, not the people. Furthermore, the U.S. Attorney could get all saucy and quietly whisper into Collins’ ear, that being a fucking rich guy is not an organizing principle and it doesn’t inoculate you from justice and truth no matter how gerrymandered your district.

But knowing the long history of Collins dismissing anyone who would challenge his hard right—I’m a rich guy and I know best— agenda, the attorney most likely will have to drive the point home more forcefully.

Maybe a future colleague from Cell Block C named  Bonehead would provide this service with a lap dance while the congressman is handcuffed to a chair. Taking deep puffy breaths while gyrating his 6’8” frame against Collins, Bonehead might go through a list of the congressman’s greatest hits like: his poorly researched “Kids before Cons” proposal, which would have restricted money for inmates to take college classes despite thirty years of research showing every dollar spent on inmate education saves between four and five dollars are saved on re-incarceration costs; he might also remind Collins that his vote for The American Health Care Act would have cost home state New Yorkers three billion dollars; or how Collins quipped that his donors told him to get the 2017 Republican Tax bill done or don’t ever call them again even though his vote would cost New Yorkers up to fifteen billion dollars in lost revenue.

It is likely Collins would remain steadfast about his past positions and votes. But, as Lou Reed’s Strawman comes up in the mix with it’s slow building power the attorney might pierce Collins’ skin a bit and hit him were he lives, pointing out how dumb it was for a guy worth seventy million dollars to throw away his name, position and freedom for seven hundred grand of other people’s money. Finishing Collins off, as Lou Reed angrily strokes those power chords, the satisfied U.S. Attorney might smile and emphasize to Collins that he is: yet another politician caught with his pants down, money sticking in his hole.

See ya in four to six Chris.       

In recent policy fights around health care and tax reform, Collins was the kind of politician who was blunt about the divisions within the Republican conference while finding a way to elevate Trump above the party infighting. He voted for the House’s Obamacare repeal-and-replace bill and the tax bill — both of which disproportionately disadvantaged New York constituents.

He says he did it for the party Trump now leads — not his constituents: “My donors are basically saying, ‘Get it done or don’t ever call me again,’” Collins said during the tax fight

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