The Jesus and Mary Chain
Automatic
1989
That fall
semester at BG, I took a music appreciation class of some kind (it’s a little
fuzzy at this point) in the Moore Musical Arts Center. The first day of class,
this cute girl and I chatted briefly and began a classroom friendship, but
neither pursued anything beyond that until the end of the semester rolled
around. Through small talk in class, we realized we were both from Northeast
Ohio. She went to Central Catholic and grew up right in the geographic center
of my high school social world. We decided to get together while home for the
holidays.
I
was at the peak of my punk phase at the time... my hair dyed jet black or
blue-black or maroon or purple depending on the week, eyeliner, black nail
polish and lipstick, my ears pierced a half-dozen times. She had a simple,
girl-next-door beauty. And a boyfriend. Despite my appearance and her ties, her
parents and I got along well-enough, and Maria and I spent a large part of
those weeks home together. There were many late nights getting to know each
other while we drank bottomless cups of coffee and I chain-smoked Marlboro
Lights in a booth at the Denny’s on Everhard Road, and hanging out at her
parents’ house.