Where did Doctor J come from? Long before there was a Doctor Julius Irving, there was a Doctor J of North Hollywood. Doctor J was affectionately called Doc J or Doc. Who still calls me that? Hmmm, less than a handful of devoted friends. The ones left over from my drunken and drugged out very bad rock and roll youth.

When you run with a rough crowd, ones who do serious drugs and other assorted things like that on a regular basis, they tend to be people you probably won't be associating much with once you no longer do those illicite activities anymore. So the fact that I still have friends left from that time period in my life is simply amazing to me in the first place.

They named me Doctor J. Why Doctor J? Well, because, see, I was a bartender. Bartenders by trade are good listeners. We stand around listening to other people's problems and occasionally dispensing advice if it seems appropriate. I got really good at listening to other people's problems in life. And when I did speak, I guess they thought I was speaking from some kind of learned experience (like I went to school to be a psychologist or something).

I didn't go to school to be anything. Well, actually I did. I went to school to be a rock star. But back in the 70's there was no college of rock, so instead I went to school and majored in music. I was a terrible student though because partying was much more important to me than anything else.  So instead I became the worlds greatest drop out. I dropped out of college at least 4 times. The last time I dropped out was about the time I started working as a bartender in a lesbian bar. I never looked back. The girls at the Attic let me be a rock star all I wanted behind the bar. They let me be a legend in my own mind.

I played a very bad ass air guitar if I say so myself. There are those who will tell you they thought I played the real guiitar ok, but I am here to clear up that fallacy. I was one of the worst guitar players I ever met. Which is why Gina Nicoletti is almost always playing guitar for me on every recording that came out of that time period.  Now Gina, she could really play the guitar. She was the better musician. She was the better writer too. In fact, I know she does not believe this but, all around, she was the real creative genius out of all of us.  Her poetry was deeper, her music more complex and richer, everything she did was better than the rest of us.

I was always just this side of mediocre. Ok yeah, there were people I knew who were even worse than mediocre, but I didn't want to be mediocre. I wanted to be great. I wanted to be a musical genius and sadly, I never was. It might have helped if I had managed to get through theory class without dropping out every time. Maybe I would have learned that one little secret of all great composers, the one that catapults them from mediocre to genius. Oh well. Maybe next life time.

At any rate, I think maybe 3 people on earth still call me Doc. Gina is one of them. The only friends I have left from that time are really Gina and Suzanne. I would still have Donna, but somewhere in our 30's we just kind of stopped talking for some unknown reason. Then I moved here to Rockansas and the chance of us finding each other again became pretty slim. I am not sure if Donna would call me Doc if she did see me today anyway. I was more Big J to her, another one of my nics. I was Big J and Suzanne was Little J.

Anywho, so the friends of my youth are still there somewhere hanging around being my friend despite me <grin>. I still have Roz, who still to this day lives on Teesdale in North Hollywood and there's Anita from high school. That's an odd one to still have around. She lives in Seattle now I think... or maybe she moved to Portland. All those cities in the Pacific Northwest all look alike to me. There's also Patty Pipkin. She lives in Altadena now.

Then there's the dead friends of my youth. Sue and Debbie Winchester. Debbie of course was my lover for 10 years. Sue had been one of my closest friends in high school. It's not like our friendship really died, it's just she was never the same again after they committed her for being paranoid schizophrenic. I still went and hung out at her apartment with her. Sat there just hanging out and doing nothing while she rocked back and forth chain smoking until it was time for me to go.

Sue died of breast cancer. Debbie died from overdosing on the meds they gave her for her paranoid schizophrenia.

And then there's Phil Carmen. Why do I hate Ronald Reagan? Because of Phil and about 20 other close personal friendswho died while we were all still young. Living through the holocaust of AIDS in the 80s. I live on my friends. Trust me, middle age is not what it's all cracked up to be. I miss you guys. I miss you Phil.

I miss you Debbie. Sue I wish I could have just 5 more of those incredibly boring minutes in your apartment watching you rock back and forth chain smoking. Or you sitting on mine and Debbie's couch watching TV and chain smoking. Or just one more hour or two with you Debbie, the way it was before you got so sick and I lost you forever to that disease.

After all these years I don't know why it still stabs my heart so deeply to remember. Why, after all these years, I still grieve you. Does this go on forever? This hole? This missing place where you once resided? I guess I will let you know in a few more years and report back to you my dead friends.

And that is why my journal here is named Doc J. Because I am Doc J. And Doc J is done with talking to my past and my dead friends. I will tell you a secret about life, the friends of your youth always keep you humble. If you ever get too big for your britches, they remind you of what a genuine putz you were when you were young. On the other hand, they can also tell you just how much you have grown and evolved. It's like having a mirror of your life there to reflect in.

This is Doctor J signing off.

You were the fire of my life.....