My New Life in Lawrence
or
How I learned to say "fuck this noise" and left the
thankless-void of Wichita, KS without looking back

By: Justin Zaruba (Lawrencerock.com Writer/Comic Artist)

I've recently become one of those people who can't stay in one place very long. I think everyone knows someone like that, if you're not that someone yourself. About two months ago I wandered into Lawrence, KS, similar to how a Clint Eastwood character might wander into a non-descript cow town. The only real difference is that Clint Eastwood
characters traditionally gun everyone down for something that happened 10 years ago and I'm planning on playing atari and eating ding-dongs.

I only knew a handful of people when I arrived (or "a smidge of people" if you prefer the metric system) and my two major attempts to meet people ended like so: 1. being told that "this is a kwik shop, not the YMCA" and I should "stop bathing with the sprite"-non-caffinated soda is good for the skin, or so I've been told- and 2. being told that "we don't care for your hatred for corporations and capitalism here at Borders" so I should "stop bathing in the sprite."

Both times I tried to plead my case, noting that I was not, in fact, bathing with the sprite. I was bathing with Big K lemon-lime soda. And in neither situation did I buy myself enough time to lather or rinse, let alone repeat, so it could hardly be called "bathing" technically.

I would go to shows frequently, inspired by the flyers I would see posted over the 40 old flyers underneath it, like some kind of archaeology game where no one wins. Still, I got to see the White Stripes at the Granada, some band at the Replay which refused to admit to themselves that happy-core died when Cub broke up, Mike Watt rocked my pants off
(literally) at the Bottleneck, and I discovered Mr. FieldTrip at Abe and Jakes. I later found out that Abe and Jakes is rather trendy, but you can't really tell for sure when no one is there.

The guys from Mr. Fieldtrip- a local band which declares they are the most-unpopular band in Lawrence -were the first friends I made and after some time hanging out, they let me move into their already over-crowded house. It was a nice gesture which boosted my fondness for the Lawrence populous.

I feel more comfortable here than in the city I inhabited before, which was populated by middle-class puritans who couldn't understand "why anyone would pierce their eyebrow/ nose/ lip/ nipples/ genitals/ bellybutton/ leg/ pet gopher." They ate their doritos, watched their seinfeld, worked their 9 to 5 and accused everyone of being satan because they had color in their hair. "Not color! THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPELLS YOU!"

Everyone here in Lawrence is friendly, even the crazy guy from the Replay who only goes there to drown out the communist voices in his head. He gave me a cigarette once, but only on the condition that I didn't use it to further advance my red-soviet-commie scheme. I explained to him how hard that would be for me to do, considering I would be pissing myself in fear for the next 3 days. He laughed, I laughed, and then I feigned lycanthropy and ran off.

I like Lawrence!