Free Shut Up and Give Me the Mic by Dee Snider

we were supposed to leave, a major ice storm hit the region. I was sure my big audition would be postponed, but despite all travel in the area being disrupted, the plan remained the same. Kenny Neill, the original Twisted Sister bass player, was going to drive the band stationwagon (they had a band car!) from his home in Upper Montclair, New Jersey, out to Long Island (normally a three-hour drive; with the weather it must have taken him at least four) to pick me up at my parents’ house in Baldwin, then we’d drive and pick up the new Twisted drummer, Kevin John Grace (drummer number two, for those keeping count), a couple of towns over from me in Levittown. Next we’d get Jay Jay in Manhattan, then head to the Bronx to pick up guitarist Eddie Ojeda. Only then would we all head upstate to Palenville, New York, to the Turtleneck Inn. Sounds easy enough.
    I had seen photos of Kenny Neill and he looked like a pretty wild guy, but the person who arrived to pick me up was anything but. Looking and sounding incredibly normal (and a bit nerdy; sorry, Kenny), he seemed extremely mature. All of the members of the band (besides Kevin) were three to five years older than me. It doesn’t seem like much now, but when you’re twenty, that’s a significant difference, and I think it played a role in some of the problems that developed between the guys and me later.
    Still, I was superexcited and loaded my bag into the car to begin my adventure. On our ride, I quickly found out that Kenny was a recovering alcoholic (a bit more rock ’n’ roll) and attending several AA meetings every week. I was amazed that he was able to work in a bar/club environment and control his disease. He did, and never fell off the wagon during the couple of years we worked together. To the best of my knowledge, Kenny is now around thirty-five years sober. Good on you, Kenny.
    When we got to drummer Kevin John Grace’s house, he seemed young (maybe even younger than me) and came out to the car wearing glasses and galoshes ! I had seen a photo of Kevin; he looked great and didn’t wear glasses (or galoshes). I guess he took them off for the band stuff. Not that there’s anything wrong with needing them (all of Jay Jay’s sunglasses are prescription), but the effect of the glasses, the galoshes, gloves, and winter coat was . . . very dorky. This was thee Twisted Sister and I was driving in an olive-green station wagon with two nerds! Next stop, New York City to pick up the local legend Jay Jay French.
    To most Long Island kids, Manhattan is pretty intimidating. This was the midseventies and New York was anything but “the safest big city in America.” It was the exact opposite. This was the Manhattanportrayed in Serpico, The French Connection , and Death Wish , when Harlem was Harlem and Forty-Second Street was filled with hookers, sex shops, and XXX theaters. Pre-Disney. Manhattan in those days was riddled with “bad areas” and you needed to know your way around to avoid potential problems. I had rarely been there except for parades with my parents, occasional school trips, and a couple of concerts. On one of my more recent visits, the guys in Harlequin and I had nearly gotten jacked by a gang one night in Central Park, after a Uriah Heep concert (back when they literally used to stop anyone from entering the park at night because it was too dangerous). I was not a NYC fan.
    Jay Jay lived on the Upper West Side, where he was born, raised, still lives today, and, I’m sure, they will carry his body out of one day. Hey, nobody gives up a rent-controlled apartment in New York City. In 1976, this was the lower edge of Harlem and not a safe place.
    The three of us arrived at Jay’s place and parked the car. To the best of my recollection, Kevin stayed with the car to watch our stuff (what he would have done if someone tried to rip us off, I don’t know. Hit him with a galosh?), and Kenny and I headed upstairs to get Jay.
    Jay answered the door wearing