Author: J. D. Townsend

One day while pacing around the apartment, I felt something like a silent scream welling up inside of me. When I finally let it out I heard myself say, “I need a band!” It was a bone-deep plea, a cry to something unseen and unnamed. More restless than ever, I couldn’t bear to stay home, so I threw on a coat and walked to Telegraph Avenue at the end of my block, intending to hitchhike to Sproul Plaza at the University of California a few miles away. Before I got there, though, I was disappointed to see two scruffy characters already standing there with their thumbs out. Great, I thought, I’ll never get a ride now.