So there you have it. The mullet 2007 was a successful journey.

Now that the dust has settled a bit I’ll tell you about what I did the night of the mullet.

Around 8 pm I headed up to Marina Bay to meet with a client. The guy Matt who commissioned me for the ‘32 Ford painting (COMMISSIONS page). Anyone who is not familiar with Marina Bay, please refer to the picture below.

Marina Bay is a group of restaurants, night clubs, boat slips, condos etc… right on the water looking out to the beautiful Boston skyline. It’s on the Northern side of my home town. Tom Brady is rumored to have a home there. Matt called earlier in the day and invited me down to hang out for a couple beers on his boat. Said to just yell down to him from the dock and he’ll walk up and let me in the locked gate that leads to all the boat slips.

I headed down there in my mullet and perfor-fucking-ated leather Members Only jacket and sleeveless “You Wanna Piece o’ Me?” shirt with the anthropomorphic pizza on the front, carrying… what else… a twelve pack of Busch under my arm.

I get there and no one is really expecting what saunters onto the boardwalk. Imagine some shitheel from Mobile, Alabama getting into Mr. Peabody’s wayback machine and setting it for “Skynyrd show with Ronnie Van Zandt still alive and shit, man” only to have his plan ruined when he forgets to change the destination from June 2007 to June 1977.

I get there and walk to try to find Matt’s boat. People are eating dinner all along the boardwalk on wrought iron tables behind velvet ropes. My forehead is burning. I am nervous that at any second the roving security is going to throw me out. I wrap my 12 pack up in the Members Only jacket. God there are a lot of beautiful people at this place. It’s Saturday night and the rich want to have fun. They converge on Marina Bay like ants on a dropped popsicle and among them walks I, standing 6′4″ with a faint moustache and a very not-faint mullet. I feel like a demi-god. A demi god who listens to Black Oak Arkansas and loves to fight women all unprovoked-like.

I pace back and forth along the huge stretch of boardwalk. I think I spot Matt’s boat. No one near his boat spots me despite my ridiculous appearance. It’s getting pretty dark out. Mosquitoes pass on sucking my blood. I think they all think I’m a real life meth head. (I only play one on the internet.) From down on a large cabin cruiser I hear a group of heavily muscled jock-bros remark “holy mullet” when I walk by. I give them a thumbs up. I waddle once more to the other end of the pier in search of Matt’s boat.

I call his phone once. Twice. Three times. I leave a message nervously saying that everyone is looking at me like I just broke out of jail. Finally I flag his girlfriend down and she gets him to go let me in to the locked entrance of the pier. Upon meeting me he says “I didn’t think you were serious about the mullet thing.”

I have a couple beers and shoot the shit and collect the cash for the painting and hey… clock strikes 10 and I have to take off. Not to go home and spare the public the eyesore, but to go to the Emerald Isle, a divey Irish bar in Dorchester to see my friend’s band play. Before I leave Matt remarks “You look like you fucking broke out of prison” without ever listening to my message.

I head into town to the Emerald and once I park a few block from the bar and get out I can barely even walk down the street. I’m crippled with mullet fear. Before I was worrying about getting arrested. Now I’m worrying about being lynched. It’s all irrational fear I’ve been feeling the whole night, but you try walking around with that magnificent dirt flap on your head some time.

I miss my friend’s band and stay for the set after them. After that I headed home and sat like a loser until my friend Sarah came over and had a few beers with me. And laughed at me.

In other news, art news (oh yeah, this is an art site sort of), I’ve been commissioned to paint “Discoverin” for a girl here in Massachusetts. That’s a first. I get an email saying that a person wants a painting… of me.

I did learn that with great power comes great responsibility. I’m a mere mortal who tried to rattle the tail of the unicorn. I drank deeply from the Kentucky waterfall. I don’t recommend awakening that power within yourself. You might not be able to handle it.

PS. I said in the previous entry that the hair was gone, but no one got that. They were mesmerized by the pictures. I had the mullet for a little more than 24 hours. It’s been gone for three days.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, June 27th, 2007 at 12:17 pm and is filed under Uncategorized.