Here's my Heyday story:

Its the spring of '91, and my days are numbered at Streetside Records in Kansas City. They're going corporate, and I'm in trouble because I wouldn't participate in a racist witch hunt against a couple of black employees. Several of us are in the habit of getting baked when the boss isn't around, which only makes me even more of an undesirable (use to be I was singled out for NOT "indulging" with the upper management when they came through...)

So I take my lunchbreak one day, get in the car, take a few tastes of green leafy vegetables (I'm at work, so I'm choosing my words carefully here) and decide to drive around east KC listening to Heyday. Some of the ride is rolling hills, trees, then you turn the corner and see gas stations, houses, strip malls...its the outskirts of town. I'm thinking about how badly I want to be out of that store and that city, maybe head west toward mountains, deserts, oceans, but I know I can't afford to just walk, not yet...meanwhile I've got all these lyrics coming up at me from the cassette deck: gonna have to alter my address...another morning I'll be gone...hired and fired and never inspired...this is it, the closer you get, the deeper you go, the tighter the net...finally, I'm resolved to head back to work, I'm late...but the last song's "Roman", and I'm totally into it, beating on my steering wheel, yelling "I'M NEVER, NEVER COMING BACK AGAIN" over and over...then the song fades out, and I'm in the exit lane to the interstate highway, westbound, having driven right past the record store.

I knew I was in trouble for being late coming back from break, but NOTHING could wipe the shit-eating grin off my face that day...

Random Pan