It was a warm summer night in Brooklyn, and I found myself walking up to Brenna’s childhood home, ready to spend the evening with some old friends. Alonzo, who we lived next door to, was also invited, but we had yet to run into each other that day. After a few drinks, Alonzo arrived, and to my surprise, we were wearing the same exact outfit. Black v-neck shirts, gray jeans, and all-black Converse Chuck Taylor’s. It was a coincidence, but it felt like more than that. It felt like we were on the same wavelength, that we were connected in some way. We laughed it off, but I couldn’t help but feel a sense of hope. Maybe we were still on the same page, despite the growing distance between us caused by my ego. As the night went on, we all shared stories and laughed until our sides hurt. It was like we were back in the old days, hanging out on Grove Street and causing mischief. But even as I reveled in the joy of the moment, I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in the back of my mind. I was battling constantly with my feelings on what the Bud and Roach Show was becoming. It felt like we were losing the edge, becoming more mainstream and less authentic. Maybe we could still find our way back to what made us great, to the raw and unfiltered energy that had made us stand out. I took my feelings one day at a time, and tried my best to not self destruct.
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