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Shaolin Records

Leaving The Beaten Path Behind

Words and Music by The Coyote

Okay. Bye bye parents.
No big deal.
They were glad to see me go.

My mother says, "I cost her an arm and a leg to feed..."
An appropriate analogy I guess.
You are a product of your parents and then you nibble away at them until they kick you out.
Anyway, who can be a person at all when they live with their parents:
"Get a job."
"Clean your room."
"Go mow the lawn."
"Take out the trash."
"And get a haircut God damnit!"

Speaking of damnation. What's gonna happen to my soul?
I really don't see me going to church anymore.
I think they're glad to get rid of me too!
"You ask too many questions!" Man, I heard that so many times in Catechism.

Oh yeah, if you're not a Catholic, you probably know that as Sunday School.
Catholics know better. After an hour and a half of sitting on a wooden pew, it takes more than a Bible to scare Catholics into going to Bible school.

So the Catholics invented Catechism. It's like Sunday School I guess, but you go to your church, in a separate schoolroom, at least one day each week after your regular elementary, jr. high, or high school classes. It's probably to keep us kids out of trouble. Babysitting us teenagers between school and dinner time.

Problem is I seemed to get in more trouble coming home from Catechism...All pumped up with God power.  Hee hee.

Billy D______ had it coming though.
Yeah, I know, "Sticks and stones will break my bones - but words will never hurt me...."

I don't know if the guy that wrote that was a Zen dude. Probably not. Sounds more like my little brothers really. The guy that wrote that probably stuck his tongue out after saying it.

Anyway, Billy tried to rip off my bike. And don't give me that, "Was it locked?" question. That's not the point. He knew it wasn't his. And when he saw me coming he didn't try to give it back, he peddled twice as fast.

I would have kept running til my feet fell off. NOBODY STEALS MY BIKE.

He had a whole street block lead on me.
Probably looked funny to everyone else. Me running down the center of the street, but the cars could get out of my way as far as I was concerned.

Billy turned into an alley and went down a canyon trail to get away from me.
He lost a little distance taking that dirt path. And he was going downhill. That gave me a little advantage.

I picked up a rock and barely missed his head.
Maybe I've got a good arm.

I was later talked into pitching for little league baseball. There's another story.

Anyway, my second rock hit him right in the back of the head.
He went down like a sack of potatoes. Course, I was mostly concerned about my bike's paint job. I did it myself. Candy Apple Blue.

I was cool. I could've kicked him while he was laying there. Of course, I could've seen whether he was alright too.
Well, I was younger then. (That's a Christian slogan).
I just picked up my bike and went home without saying a word to him.

Oh man. Did I catch Hell for that one.
Because it happened on my way home from Catechism the church had to get involved.
Sorry, I'm smiling. That wasn't the end of the story.

This Billy idiot really had a stick up his ass for me. About a week later, now you gotta understand, this Billy punk kept taunting me every time he saw me. Man, you'd think a rock in the head might have shed a little light on his life!

Anyway, I was walking home from Catechism, my parents probably took my bike away for a week or two. Billy come peddling his bike from behind me. He was saying whatever it was he was saying. He was trying to get a rise out of me or scare me. I don't know what he was trying to do - - but it worked.

I was fed up.
I didn't even turn around to see him. I could tell where he was by listening to his filthy taunts approaching.

I had my school lunchbox in my right hand. Billy was passing me on the left side.
Back then, all lunch boxes were made of metal. And I carried a thermos inside.When he was right next to me I spun to the left and smacked him in the face with my lunch box.
Seriously.
I'm not really a violent guy.

To this day, I can still see that moment in slow motion.
Billy's bike kept going. It coasted quite aways, as if he was still on it.
But Billy did a complete backwards somersault.
SPLAT!
He landed facedown again. This time on asphalt.
Well, "Trouble is my middle name."
Probably another Catholic wrote that one.

Let's see. How did I get on that story?
Oh yeah.
My parents were glad to get rid of me.