Kennedyand Garter in Florida: An Undemogatic Encounter A Pre-Nursery-school Guide for theTeachable Twos lIo$uchThing AsPun[

...Peoplenoticed the Mudd Club;Blondie went platinum..."

Beat on the brat Beat on the brat Beat on the brat with a baseball bat. Oh yeah! -The

I thought I was gonna die. There I am at the Mudd Club, four in the morning and I'm exhausted,aching, malnour- ished.This guy in an M.P.'s uniform is perchedin front of me, pointing a macheteat my heart. Two feet to my right a Legr McNell: girl in a German prostitute'soutfit is doing a heavy make. People call him out scenewith a small teenageboy in a Green Beret uni- the orlglnal form. Her lipstick is all over his face. Somebodyelse thinks punk. Dontt it would be a good idea if I slipped on thesehandcuffs he's even Urlnk of proffering. crorcing hlm. The band onstage,Shrapnel, is in full military regalia and screaming and shooting at the audience. I'm sitting on the stage,the lead singer'sbig black boot crashes down, inches from my hand. Johnny "She wanted to do the goose step lhunderr: with me," the singer sang. "I said no He drlvee t{re way bitch, I got my own countree." audiencer at I'd had a little too much to drink or Martr wild wit{t something and wandered outside. It hir rtiring was hard to leave because so many r.endltlon of people were standingbehind the ropes, "Too Much waiting to get in. Somebodywas wear. Junkie ing an eveningdress. I sat on the hood Buslner;.tt of a limo and watchedSteve Mass, pro prietor of the Mudd Club, usher through the throngs.Mass was wearing a general'suniform and bark- ing into a walkie-talkie.Some guy with blue hair came over and offered me : dangerousdrugs. I went home and collapsedinto my seri- The lead dnger ously disheveledbed and wonderedwhat had becomeof me. ol Teenage Only months ago I was living the life of a nice Jerur and Ure wholesomemother. I would get up in the morning and feed Jertr lr lamous my kid toastedoats, raisins, and wheat germ and walk him for looklng to the school bus. Maybe have coffee with other bus-stop dead and walling llke a mothers.Then do the breakfast dishesand go to work. At banshee. night we did stuff like watch Mork and Mindy. Then the kid went off for summervacation and I was left to my own devices.The long summernights stretchedahead of me and I was looking for thrills. I was sick of the bus- stop mothers and my friendly therapist and cozy nights in Lesley front of HBO. I was bored with everybody. and Jerry llolan: You know everybody.Everybody is gentleand self-aware He war her and eats whole-grainedfood and understandsher anger. dream punk; t{re rcality was Heimel is editor ol Soho Cynthia an the Weekly News. harder to @ 1976 Bleu Disque Muslc Co., Inc,, and Taeo Tunes. handle.

Renick. 12 /OCTOBER 15. 1979 Phoogaphed by Marcia

I I

I : rope succumbed-Blondie's records were playing on juke- I I boxesin obscureFrench villagesbefore most of New York ". . . I sawthe Screamers, an L.A. punk group. ever heard of them. American punks visiting Europe were hailed as heroes. While their leader,TomatoDu Plenty,yelled. Although teenagerswere snapping up imported British a girl in zombie punk records,America was unaware of the punk phenom- makeup uttered enon until the Sex Pistolstalked dirty on TV. And when Americanand British punk recordsbegan topping British piercingwails. What charts, hungry American record companiescouldn't help was I doing here?.. ." but notice. Then Blondie released"Heart of Glass" and everythingexploded. You can't get away from it now. We're two months away from the eighties,and punk has quantum-leaptinto New York's consciousness.Walk down West Broadwayin Tomato Du SoHo, the trendiest street in the trendiest neighborhood, Plentlr: The and suddenlyall the flowing-manedartists have chopped off most famous their hair and squeezedthemselves into black spandexand L.A. punk is are calling themselvesthings like "avant-punquepoets." prone to scream Bloomingdale's(never mind Fiorucci) has had punk win- "l wanna hurttt dow displays.Punks are turningup at the mostfashionable at regular uptown theaterparties. Fashionable uptown theaterpeople intervals. are turning up at punk clubs,which are multiplyingas fast as cookie stands.New punk clothing shops are opening Everybody is reasonableand self-assertiveand in therapy weekly.Punk publicationstake up shelvesat newsstands, and againstnuclear power and rides a bicycle and thinks and musictrade magsare fat with storiesabout the "new" positiveand has a psychic.Everybody wants to snortcoke music. at Studio54 and talksabout relationshipsand about being Trendy people are calling it New Wave, No Wave, and afraid to getclose. Everybody works out at the gym, doesn't No No Wave, and a lot of peopleare making money. like Saturday Night Live anymore, thinks Woody Allen is What's all the fuss?Punks, according to all reports,are probablyGod. mindless and cruel. My father told me that when he saw But therewere theseother people-scary,strange, pallid, me in my iridescentvibrating-pink Betsey fohnson dress. meanJookingpeople wandering around the streets.I'd been "You keep away from those punks," he warned, Now this noticingthem peripherally for years:girls with starkslashes was interesting.Why was my buttoned-downdaddy fright- of rougeand purplelipstick and miniskirtsand fishnetstock- ened for me for the first time in thirteen years,just like he ings and teasedhair. Boys with black shirts,dark glasses, was theday I broughthome a boy with shoulderJengthhair spiky bleachedhair, and eye makeup. Punks. Suddenly and a buckskinvest? there were a hell of a lot of them. I found myself severely I found myself a punk girl friend named Lesley. I met interested. her at Hurrah, a big punk . She was standingnext to The whole punk scenehas beenbubbling under the sur- me, throwing bottlesat the band onstageand yelling. face for so long that its full-fledgedemergence is anticli- "You guys suck," she screamedin tandem with the mactic.We've beenhearing about safetypins forever.But smashingglass. "Why do they suck?" I wanted to know. this is the year that it's blossomed,like a Venus's-flytrap, "They're a pretentiouspseudo-art band, and none of them This is the year that People noticed the Mudd Club in can play worth shit," she told me. I invited her out for shockingprose, the year that Blondie went platinum, the coffee. 'n' year of the Ramonesmovie, Rock Roll High School, We sat at the Snow White coffee shop, drinking coffee the year that mothersin black leatherhit the streets. and eatingcornflakes, while she told me all kinds of neat Six years ago in the art-infestedback room at Max's stuff like: KansasCity, two angry young boys named ! There's no such thing as a punk. Punks used to call and approachedTerry Ork, a mad artist/ themselvespunks, but they don't want to anymore,now businessmanand one of the Andy Warhol gang,and asked that the term has beenco-opted by the media, him to help them form a rock-'n'-roll group. They starteda n Most punks live in the East Village-St. Marks Place band called the -mean, nasty,posturing, full has dozensof new punk shopsand is the centerof attention. of angerand energy.Meanwhile, another group, the Stilet- ! Most punksfall asleepwith the TV on. toes,was playinglukewarm music at a weird Hell's Angels ! Nobody goesto CBGB anyn,ore.It's a tourist trap. bar calledCBGB to almostno audience.The Stilettoes.star- n Don't trust anyoneover 25. ring DebbieHarry and Chris Stein,are now calledBlondie. ! The only good music is punk music. Everything else In ForestHills somekids were writing songsabout sniffing sucks. glue and decided to call themselvesthe Ramones.Patti fl Anyone who drinks Perrier water is mentally ill. Smith, a young nihilist poet, decidedshe wanted to be a ! Anybody who lives on the Upper East Side is beneath rock-'n'-rollstar. Then Richard Hell read in an obscure contempt.Better, much better, to live in Queenswith your British fdn magazinethat teenagersweren't mendingtheir parents. I clothesanymore. He thoughtthat was a neat idea,and sud- ! Silk is nowhere-only wear synthetic fabrics, like i denly everybodyhad ripped T-shirts and jeansheld together polyester. with safetypins. ! We're all gonna die soon, everything is plastic; so On fuly 4, 1976, the Ramoneshit , where a what differencedoes anything make? group called the was rehashingold New York tr The best person to cut your hair is Marylou at Sas- Dolls' songs,and a group called was just form- soon,or William at Pipino Buccheri. ing. Elvis Costellowas nobody.England went punk-mad. Lesley refused to tell her age; she's about nineteen or Bands sprang up from every working-classghetto in the twenty. Her life is centeredin the clubs. She staysout until country. Magazineslike Sniffin' Glue appeared.All of Eu- morning everynight and sleepsall day. Sheworks part-time

NEWYORK/OCTOBER 15. 1979 first punk group.I would play my Dolls recordsand dance aroundand look at myselfin the mirror. I pretendedI was ". . . Thenotoriously menacing told a rock-'n'-rollstar. I was just a kid; the only other thing I did was sit at my kitchentable and have my motherpass methat whenhe wasa DeadBov the bandused the mashedpotatoes." to tie girlsup and "No Coke, Pepsi," Stevesaid. sexuallyabuse them "The Dolls were the best thing that ever happened to me," Lesley continued."They didn't stand for anything. till it got boringfor They hated hippies and insultedeverybody, and I would evgrvone. . ." listen and it made sensethat my life didn't make sense." "No Coke, Pepsi,"Steve said again.He was on a jag. We finishedup and walked down St. Marks Place.A guy in a three-piecesuit and black-rootedblond hair walked pastand Lesleydug her fingersinto my arm. "Oh my Godl Oh my God!" shesaid. "Don't turn around!That was |erry Stiv Bators and Nolan!" Bebe Buell: He "Who?" went from the "|erry Nolan! He used to be the Dolls' drummer,after rteel millg in their first drummer died of an overdosein a bathtub in Youngetown to England.Now he's with .He's the best a cottage in rock-'n'-roll drummer in the world! Don't turn around! Maine. He'll know we're lookingat him!" We went to Max's KansasCity to seethe Heartbreakers. for a printer. She is the token punk at the ollice and gets Therewas a hugecrowd of drunk and disorderlyteens surg- about $100 a week, almost enough for her cornflakes,fish- ing around the entrancewhen we arrived. net stockings,and admissionto the clubs."All my friends "We'll neverget through this," I said nervously. think I'm too responsiblebecause I have a straight job," "Sure we will," Lesleysaid. She attacked the crowd, arms she told me. flailing and feet kicking. I felt alcoholfumes on the back Lesley'shair is bleachedto oblivion.She has a sweetbaby of my neck and held on to her. face. I hung around with her in her $l75-a-monthapart- We got upstairsand reconnoiteredour way to a table.A ment on ElizabethStreet. The place is semi-clean;the floors sassyblonde named |oy Ryder was onstage,wearing a are hot pink; the walls are gray. All of Lesley'sclothes are rippeddress and singingsomething about "no more nukes." in two suitcases,one for clean,one for dirty. We spent a Then it was time for the Heartbreakers. lot of time sittingon her couch,eating potato-and-egg sand- The first thing I heard rvas somekind of German war wiches and watching That Girl. She told me these were chant,and abouthalf the audiencejumped up and started cool thingsto do. siegheil-ing. Then the curtain openedand the band launched "Let's go shopping,"I was alwayssaying. I loved going into a raucous,pounding song called "Too Much funkie shoppingwith Lesley.She introducedme to Trash and Business."The lead singeris a cute little wasted gnome Vaudevilleon St. Marks Place,where they sell Popsicle- calledfohnny Thunders,another ex-New York Doll. Every colored Capri pants and rhinestonesunglasses. And to song seemedto be about heroin. fohnny kept pretending BleeckerBob's on MacDougalStreet, where they sell every to shootup. The word is that the Heartbreakersare heroin punk record,button, and T-shirt in existence. addicts-fohnny wears cut-off socksover the crooks of his "I gottaget ready,"Lesley would say,She took about an arms. They play terrific rock 'n' roll. hour putting on makeup-thick black eyeliner,crusts of The audiencewas standingon chairs and tables and mascara,purple eye shadow,orange lipstick. Then she had dancing,except for a few Quaaludedguys who stumbled to find the perfectoutfit, maybea white leatherminiskirt, about,pawing at everyfemale knee in sight.One er'.' green plastic go-goboots, a carefullyworn and shapeless the stagegot so excitedthat he starteda fi.L' stripedT-shirt. next to him and had to be drassor '' After shopping staredat ^" we'd visit her ex-boyfriendSteve. Steve fohnny ' the livesin a holeof a buildingon First Avenueand 1stStreet. eye."I wanch' ' He is tall, bony, handsome,has a crew cut. He talks real sPri'- slow, like Gary Cooper.He has an I.Q. of 162 and wanted -.,'$ Q^z?r\'?o- to be an artist when he was a kid in Detroit. Now the .^a2-75'.e5r\$eB-!.? words "This is not art" are stenciledon random surfaces , o'; z?"a"*1'*?? \-9.1'i' throughout his apartment.His kitchen is equippedwith ' one fork, one knife, one spoon,one plate, and one cup. 6 Z&,A2"*.V?ln^-^2a-e*' His mattress,on the living-roomfloor, is curled up at the 'o', edgessince the room is too small for it to lie flat. Steve 'e t*?"tr=""*'3;;*t doesn'thave a job. When he needsmoney, he visits his q- brother the contractor in Detroit and does a few weeks' "11 i*=.??1rz,Z"ert; work. g':lt?". u,? Steveplays in a rock-'n'-rollband which Lesleymanages. iiA? u27' (Every 3tu?'a :Eq*6a?-.-' self-respectingpunk is eitherin a band or managing breaktR :,Gz-?.89'9"-- one.) Every night the band practicesin an abandonedoflice Wha \ e ?'" V'6' building in . Its sound screamsinto the bleak watchirI B*-9.99- streetsbelow, confusingthe residents. Ibec, E F6eAf "Listen," Lesleysaid to me oneafternoon when she, Steve, Iwen' EgA, and I were sitting at the OdessacolTee shop on Avenue A. singer,u * 3: "When I was growing up in Detroit, the only thing that like a ts, s* i made senseto me was the . Thev were the won't you -

OCTOBER15, 1979/NEWYORK r-- pies making music as they sit on Malibu beach with co' caine-rottednoses. was a traitor; it had nothing ". I met backstageat Hurrah. to do with your world. But rock 'n' roll neverforgets. He was drinking somethingthat looked like So you decide to reinvent the stuff. You get a bunch of blood.This is the year kids togetherand start a band. You practicein somebody's fiberboard-paneledden. Your songsare crude and jarring, of the Ramones'first and you start out beingridiculously inept, but there'sa lot movie,Rock'n' Roll of energythere. You keep it up-you've got nothing elseto HighSchool..;' do. The words to your songsare deliberatelyfrightening. Ba. sically,what you're sayingis "Look at me! Pay attention to me! You neverloved me; you think I'm stupid because I've got no moneyand no future and I hate you for it! I'm Joey Ramone: gonna your you notice-I'll dye The skinniest rip eyelidso{I! I'll make superstar ever my hair greenand becomea Nazi. I'll glorify everythingyou to come out of despise.Burger King is supreme.A ripped nylon T-shirt is Forest Hills. the ultimatefashion statement!" I went to a loft party in SoHo. The loft was a dream, must have cost $100,000to fix up. Young adults milled about,striking disdainfulposes. I recognizedthe star of a TV sitcom. Two fashion models walked by in beautiful sleazooutfits. "Don't you just love this dress?"one of them I went to see the Contortions.Their singer, a skinny askedthe other. "Only 5250 at Norma Kamali." wimp named JamesChance, went right out into the au- "So marvelouslyS&M," the other model answered. dienceand startedbeating on people.At one point he was I went to the pre-pubertyball at the Mudd Club. Giant slappingan NYU coedabout the headand shoulderswhile papier-mAchdQuaaludes and Tuinalshung from the ceiling. her date, a 200-poundathlete, cowered with his face in his Therewas a tableladen with HostessTwinkies, Devil Dogs, hands. bubblegum, and Crackerf acks.,manager of I met foey Ramonebackstage at Hurrah. He was drink' the Ramones,took a bite of a Twinkie and immediatelyspat ing somethingthat looked like blood. it on the floor. "Yecchhh!" he said. "Kids actually eat this I walked down East 3rd Street on the Fourth of Tuly' stu{I?" A teen band called the Blessedwas playing, and The Hell'sAngels were having a party.A bandcalled Arma- young girls sashayedaround showingpeople their panties, geddonwas playing: "The earth will open/The seaswill which were festoonedwith Blessedbuttons. One girl was rage/Armageddon is in store, yeah/Armageddon, Ar- hitting her friend repeatedlywith a riding crop. Lesleygot mageddon,yeah!" up the nerve to talk to ferry Nolan; then they both disap- I met a lunatic English-Americanpunk writer named peared.That was the night I met Legs McNeil. Victor Bockris,who taughtme how to punch people. It wasn't a charmedevening. Legs' girl friend thought I I saw the Screamers,an L.A. punk group. Their leader, was afterhim and threatenedme with grievousbodily harm. Tomato Du Plenty, yelled "l wanna hurt" repeatedly, Legsthought that was pretty cool and encouragedus chicks while a girl in zombiemakeup emittedpiercing wails. to go at it. I walked away with my heartpounding and sat I met the notoriouslymenacing Stiv Bators.He was with under a Quaalude,feeling like a fool. the ,now defunctbut at one time the meanest Legs is a skinny green-eyedguy who wears a black mo- band in existence.Stiv told me how he and his band used torcycle jacket no matter what. He started Punk magazine to tie girls up and sexuallyabuse them, while other girls with a guy named|ohn Holmstromand purportedlystarted poundedon the hotel-roomdoor, eagerto get in. He said the word "punk." He is famousfor gettingdrunk and beat- it got boring for everyoneafter a while. ing peopleup. I saw a videotapeof Ian Dury singing"Hit me with your Two days after the pre-pubertyball, Marcia Resnick,a rhythm stick/Hit me slowly/Hit me quick/Hit me/Hit me/ photographerand friend of Legs', phoned me and said Hit me." that Legs would seeme. I went to the "Mommie Dearest" party at the Mudd "The hell with him," I said, getting into the spirit of Club, whereeveryone dressed like foan Crawford or inno- things.I took down the address. cent schoolchildren.Infant baby dolls were tied into little On the way to his place I experienceda moment of pan- cribs. The )oan Crawford clones pretendedto beat the ic. Would Legsbash my brainsin? schoolchildren. He openedthe door to his apartmentand grinned."Come :! There'snothing like angerand frustrationas motivating on in. Wanna watch M*A*S*H1" The apartmentis in a ;' forces. posh building on 72nd Streetand is really his girl friend's Pretendyou're a kid from Industry Town, USA. You place.Beer cans were everywhere. spend your days yawning through meaninglessclasses in We sat watchingtelevision and listeningto test pressings B high school,then go to work in a gas station.Your father of Shrapnel,the group Legs manages.Shrapnel's big num- works in a factory, and your mother is a waitressin a ber is a pleasantlittle ditty called"Combat Love." The old- t white Dacron uniform. Nobody has time to notice you est memberof Shrapnelis nineteen.They all live in Red much. You watch TV and eat Kentucky Fried Chicken Bank, New fersey,and play war gamesbehind the shopping straight from the bucket. There are too many people mall. in the world; nobody wants you-you have no future. The "Dave Wyndorf," Legs said, "the guy who writes the only thing left is to be cool and dance. songs,walks around the houseall day with big belts and 'Hi, You turn on the radio and what do you hear? Disco grenadeshanging ofl them. His mother says, Dave,' (which sucks). Mellow music. /srz'f lile beautilul? What a and Dave'srunning around the housewith his M16. He's trip to be sitting here at Hotel Calilornia drinking lresh reallyinto war moviesand stuff,but it's just fun, ya know? orange juice and wow, man, look at the moon. Rich hip- Shrapnel'swhole military thing scaresofi theseintellectual

NEWYORK/OCTOBER 15, 1979 rock critics; they think it's fascism.But it's like playing Mudd Club soldierwhen you were a kid, ya know?" lrolics: Above, (left). "It scarespeople," I said, "seeing a band dressedto kill." lawyer, and Steve Rubell, "Whaddya want them to look like," he countered,"Pat Boone?" entrepreneur, punk Dave Wyndorf is a huge, muscular kid with a bland, relax in heaven. Stevets cheerful face. He's nineteen.The minute I met him he brought punk started telling me how crazy this country is, how we're music to the alwaysgiving foreign aid to Third World countriesfor food Studio. or housing and then some generalissimotakes the money and goesto Rio with a coupleof blondes. "Idi Amin, right?" he said. "That guy shouldn't have been allowed to exist.He's a nut. Do vou know what he 'em did to his people?Let starveand siuff. If Teddy Roo- sevelt were president,we woulda gone in and kicked his css. Don't you ever let anyonestarve like that again, moth- erf - - ker." Wyndorf is a middle sibling in a family of eight kids. Brat beating: His dad was a paratrooper."He had eight kids and fed us The "Mommie all," Wyndorf said."Guy could have been presidentif he Dearesttt party perfect wanted."His mom runs the housefrom a stoolin the kitch- was the occasion for en, where she drinks endlesscups of coffee and chain- sadomasochistic smokes, fun and games. Wyndorf quit schoolwhen he was a junior. He went to work in a car wash. He got his first guitar when he was twelve,a plasticMonkees guitar. All the stringsbroke, so he threw it away.The boysin his band lovedthe Ramones; they turned all of Red Bank High on to them. When the

OCTOBER15, 1979/NEWYORK is a placeto be seen.How doeshe like all this new business? "These punk people are very nice, darlink, never any ". . I met the Speediesin BurgerKing. They're trouble. What's the differencehow they look? Make sure years parents, you mention we have the best egg creamsin town." sixteen old, live with their cause I went to Dave's one night and found Lesley with |erry teen riots, and Lesley Nolan, holding hands and trying to eat a cheeseburger. once askedthem to Lesley had found her dream man. The reality was a bit harder to absorb, since ferry visited the methadoneclinic autograph a box of on LafayetteStreet every day. FrostedFlakes..." "It's so hard to kick," ferry told me as he adjusteda lock of Lesley'shair. "People don't realize that. Thesestupid f - - king kids who take heroin just becausethey think the Heartbreakersare cool, they are such goddamnfools." We walked over to the Mudd Club. ferry was trying to get money from SteveMass. He wanted to go to England; he had a band waiting for him, but somehowair fare al- waysgot spent. The Speedles: Heroin lurks around the scene,but drinking is much High school more prevalent.Nobody can a{Iord coke. The Speediesand by day, Shrapnelhardly touch anything-maybe an occasionaljoint sugarcoated -they know you've got to be clean to get a record contract. rlots at night. The Mudd Club was packed.Halston was there,and Steve Rubell and Roy Cohn. SteveMass hid from )erry and told Ramonescame there, they were signing autographsby the me how pleasedhe was by the gascrisis; none of the people Pepsimachine. from the outer boroughs could get there. "I don't want "On Halloween when I was six," Wyndorf said, "my mindlessclones in here," he said. "I want this place to be mother made me a Superman costume.Not one of those innovative. Do you think I should put a carpet on the crummy onesfrom Woolworth's,a real one, handmade.I floor?" He looked around the upstairsat the Mudd Club, thought I could fly. Dove ofI the porch and had amnesiafor the place where only specialpeople are allowed. a day. But it was a killer suit. My f - - king mother made it." "The sceneis really picking up now," ferry said while Mothers figure big. Wyndorf's mother comes to all his he was looking for Steve. "People are tired and bored. gigs.Patti Smith'smother is often seenin a flowereddress, They're all out looking for excitement,looking for the next clapping madly for her daughter. When Lesley's mother fad." comes to New York, Lesley takes her to the Mudd Club I went to see Blondie in Central Park. The band has and all the hot spots. Lesley's mother cooks dinner for become unbelievably good. The concert was sold out, Lesley'sfriends. She and Lesleyhave the samehairdo. and scalperswere selling $4 tickets for $20 and up. The I met the Speediesin Burger King. They are a sixteen- audiencewas clapping and screamingand standing on year-oldgroup, still living with their parents,and one of chairs.Debbie dedicated a songto the early daysat CBGB. the best bands around.They encouragetheir audienceto Most of the peopledidn't know what shewas talking about. pelt them with breakfast cereal, sugarcoatedonly. Lesley I went to see the Clash at the Palladium. Sold-out once had them autographa box of Frosted Flakes for her. crowd. After the concert,a hugebouncer slammed the back The Speediescause mini-riots among their teenfans. Max's stagedoor in |oey Ramone'sface. |oey shruggedand went has to double the number of bouncers for Speediesgigs. home. Eric Ho{Iert, the lead guitarist, was wolfing down a Stiv Bators blew into town recently, straight from the Whopperand chattering."I think we delinitelyrepresent a TropicanaMotel in L.A. He's not a Dead Boy anymore.In new stateof mind in ," he said."None of us fact he's got a new single out, a sweet love song. He was just sit around and smoke pot and stufl. We're totally capi- sitting at the bar of the Gramercy Park Hotel, drinking talists. In fact, we are pro-nuke." We wandered around doubleswith his new girl friend, BebeBuell. Bebeis a big Brooklyn with an amplifier in a shoppingcart, playing the beautifulblonde with a little girl's voice, the filet mignon Speediesfull blast. of rock-'nlroll girl friends.She usedto be with Todd Rund' Legs met me later in Central Park. He wanted to "watch gren, then Rod Stewart, then . the dumb hippies play Frisbee."I hoped I wasn't in for any Stiv kept his arm around Bebe as he recountedhis teen secretstoday. Legs had an unsettlinghabit of telling me years in Youngstown,Ohio. "I worked in a factory; every deep secretsand then threatening to break my legs if I two hours I'd hit two little holeswith a paintbrush.There told anyone."Look, itls us againstthem," he said a lot. are seventeensteel mills. Everyonehas had bad skin, and "We're talking about total war here. Rock 'n' roll will the pollution is so bad you have to paint your houseevery take over the world. Even Norman knows that." Norman year. They dump poison in the river; so far it's caught fire is Legs' friend NormanMailer. seventimes. There is no way to get outta Youngstown." Today we had a lessonin culture. "You can use culture But he did. Stiv is now a skinny young star, and he as a weapon," he told me. "lf you bring Coca-Colaand spendsa lot of time in Bebe'scottage in Maine, helping to McDonald'sto China, they'll think you're God. And then changeher daughter'sdiapers. play 'em rock 'n' roll-they're not going back to the rice Funny runty Stiv, just like Legs and the Ramonesand paddies af.terthat." , has becomea beautiful person.Society for- "McDonald'sin China." I mused, gives them for throwing filth and rage and abusein its face "Actually McDonald's is out now," said Legs. "Their and is embracingthem as new heroes,thereby neutralizing burgersare iusf not lresh." them, defangingthem. Their anger can be absorbedand Anotherhot spotis Dave'sCorner on Canaland . madeeconomically viable. Steve Rubell, no dumb bunny,has Thesedays Dave standsbehind the cashregister and beams. brought to . The next step is the He is a little round man with a Yiddish accent.His business grenade-and-swastikalook sweepingSeventh Avenue. has increasedfourfold sincethe Mudd Club opened.Dave's Punk is dead. I I NEWYORK/OCTOBER 15. 1979 I l. h