May 16, 2011
I Was A Teenage Guinea Pig
Way back in Nazz's young teen years, he was a poor white boy looking for some money. My mom heard about a facility in the area that would pay $20 a week to kids who would allow various substances to be applied to their backs and checked a day letter for "reactions". Yeah, cosmetic clinical testing. SO, I became a Teenage Guinea Pig!
Now... before you look away and say "what the Fuck is wrong with Nazz's mommy for letting her son do this"?; remember, this was the innocent days of the 80's and out there in the hinterlands, people weren't quite so suspicious of big business (or, for that matter, men in white coats and facemasks in labs). Yeah- I know. Not too smart.
So, every week, I would go in, and the nice attendants would apply a pad the size of an open palm to my back. This pad would have whatever lotion or concoction that they needed to make sure wasn't too lethal to humans. One would assume this was after the bunny rabbits and chimps had survived; but, really, who knows? After all, teenage boys were made of far sturdier stuff. The next day, the pad would be taken off and my skin (funny, they never worried about anything but the skin- so if I had any toxic poisoning or nerve damage... too freakin' bad...) would be checked for outbreaks.
I did this for about three months.
Every week, when I got my crisp $20 (always in cash) - I would take it to the local record shop. They had a tremendous used vinyl area (this WAS the 80's) and for anywhere from one to three bucks, I could buy "rescued" albums from the 60's and 70's and further my musical education.
Ya see... you young whippersnappers, what we had to do back in the day for our rock n roll? Now it's all easy peasy to download anything you like in 5 seconds.
Weird, I had completely forgotten about this until last nite, when the head that grew out of my back reminded me.
One day, I'll tell you the story of when we got the bright idea to sell our blood in college for booze money.