GRAND FORKS, N.D. — Marjorie and Gerald Spitz attempted to lure their wayward crust punk son home using his two favorite things as bait — alcohol and cigarettes, confirmed annoyed neighbors.
“I’m beginning to get worried,” said Mrs. Spitz. “Avery—uh, I mean ‘Gooch’ as he likes to be called—isn’t usually gone for this long. Most of the time, all we have to do is clink a couple of Old English forties together out back and he’ll come running. If that doesn’t do it, I’ll shake a half-pack of Lucky Strikes. He goes nuts for that sound. His father thinks I’m overprotective and that he can take care of himself. The thing is, his Taco John’s uniform is here, and if he misses another shift he’ll be fired.”
Mr. Spitz characterized Avery’s occasional disappearances as routine and nothing to worry about.
“He’ll borrow twenty bucks and take off for a few days,” said the absent punk’s father. “He always comes back when the money runs out. I don’t like enabling him, but his mother’s a real soft touch. He’s probably just sleeping one off at that punk house on the west side of town. My real concern is that if some other family starts giving him malt liquor and cigarettes, he might just start living with them instead. Why can’t Gooch be more like his sister Wendy? She’s a CPA.”
Local animal control officer Douglas Frasier is sometimes tasked with rounding up punks that roam the streets and frighten residents.
“Right now it’s my busy season,” said Frasier. “Every year at sugar beet harvest time, crust punks and oogles pour into town and stick around for a few weeks, causing mayhem. There’s a lot of drinking, smashing bottles, spitting, shouting, listening to Discharge… I’ll catch them with my big net, throw them in the wagon and bring them downtown. When I ask their names or where they live, they just spit at me and say ‘All cops are bastards.’ I explain that I’m not a cop but they don’t listen. I tell you what, my job would be a lot easier if more parents got their punk kids chipped.”
At press time, the Majerskis, another Grand Forks family, were trying to bring their itinerant metalhead daughter home by jingling a bullet belt and blaring Emperor from their back patio.
Photo by Jana Miller.