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Are You Experienced?
Până la Jordan Sonnenblick
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Începeți să citiți- Editor:
- Macmillan Publishers
- Lansat:
- Sep 3, 2013
- ISBN:
- 9781466848412
- Format:
- Carte
Descriere
Rich is fifteen and plays guitar. When his girlfriend asks him to perform at protest rally, he jumps at the chance. Unfortunately, the police show up, and so does Rich's dad. He's in big trouble. Again. To make matters worse, this happens near the anniversary of his uncle's death from a drug overdose years ago. Rich's dad always gets depressed this time of year, but whenever Rich asks questions about his late uncle, his dad shuts down.
Frustrated by his dad's silence, Rich sneaks into his office and breaks into a locked cabinet that holds his dad's prized possession: an electric guitar signed by Jimi Hendrix. Before he knows it, Rich is transported to the side of a road in Upstate New York with a beautiful girl bending over him. It will take him a while to realize it's 1969, he's at Woodstock, and the girl's band of friends includes his fifteen-year-old dad and his uncle, who's still alive. In Are You Experienced? by Jordan Sonnenblick, what Rich learns, who he meets, and what he does could change his life forever.
Informații despre carte
Are You Experienced?
Până la Jordan Sonnenblick
Descriere
Rich is fifteen and plays guitar. When his girlfriend asks him to perform at protest rally, he jumps at the chance. Unfortunately, the police show up, and so does Rich's dad. He's in big trouble. Again. To make matters worse, this happens near the anniversary of his uncle's death from a drug overdose years ago. Rich's dad always gets depressed this time of year, but whenever Rich asks questions about his late uncle, his dad shuts down.
Frustrated by his dad's silence, Rich sneaks into his office and breaks into a locked cabinet that holds his dad's prized possession: an electric guitar signed by Jimi Hendrix. Before he knows it, Rich is transported to the side of a road in Upstate New York with a beautiful girl bending over him. It will take him a while to realize it's 1969, he's at Woodstock, and the girl's band of friends includes his fifteen-year-old dad and his uncle, who's still alive. In Are You Experienced? by Jordan Sonnenblick, what Rich learns, who he meets, and what he does could change his life forever.
- Editor:
- Macmillan Publishers
- Lansat:
- Sep 3, 2013
- ISBN:
- 9781466848412
- Format:
- Carte
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Are You Experienced? - Jordan Sonnenblick
be?"
I SHALL BE RELEASED
FRIDAY, OCTOBER 17, 2014
I guess if you’re looking for the real beginning of this story, this is it. The day had started out looking pretty promising. I was psyched up, because my girlfriend, Courtney, had asked me to play my guitar and sing at a protest thing outside our little town’s city hall. Well, she was actually my sort-of girlfriend. I wanted to commit, but she said I was too emotionally inexperienced.
Whatever that means. We were both sophomores at the same high school, and she had reminded me about the protest all day long—in the hallways, at lunch, even via text during classes. I mean, we weren’t supposed to text in class, but Courtney was not exactly a master rule-follower.
Like there was any chance I would forget. I had spent the entire week figuring out a million different protest songs on my guitar, and singing them until I thought my parents would strangle me. Actually, on any given day lately, it seemed like there was a fifty-fifty chance my parents would strangle me whether I played the guitar or not.
The thing about my parents is this: they are ancient. Seriously, seriously ancient. As in, my mom was forty-one years old when she had me, and my dad was a whopping forty-five. Do you have any idea what that’s like? It means that everywhere I’ve gone with them my entire life, well-meaning people have said things like, Oh, you’re such a cute little boy! Are these your grandparents?
And then my parents have gotten their feelings hurt, but of course they have to act all polite in public, so they just get in a terrible mood as soon as they’re alone with me.
It also means other kids notice. The first time my dad tried to pitch baseballs to my team during Little League practice, he threw out his back and had to go to the emergency room. When my mom attempted to teach me to ice-skate in front of my whole class on a grade-school trip, she fell and dislocated her hip. It took three skate guards to get her off the ice and into the ambulance. I was amazed they didn’t have to call in some kind of special rescue Zamboni. In case that wasn’t humiliating enough, a couple of years ago, my parents had a little ornamental pond installed in our backyard, with a tower of rocks and a pump that shoots a constant stream of water down over them. You know what my friends call it?
Viagra Falls.
Plus, I don’t know if it’s the massive age difference, the fact that I’m an only child, or something else, but my parents are incredibly strict and overprotective. I’m not allowed to do anything my friends get to do. R-rated movies, getting rides from older kids, staying out late on school nights? Forget it. The weird thing is, my dad was a total hippie when he was a teenager. His parents had no control over him whatsoever. He played drums in a rock band and supposedly had gigs all over the state. Once in a while he slips up and tells some story about how he hitchhiked hundreds of miles to go to a concert, or skipped school to go to a Vietnam War protest—but then he gives me some big, stern lecture about how times were different then, and my job is to stay in school and keep out of trouble.
Dad and Mom are both high-school teachers now—he teaches history and she does music—so it seems to me that they survived their crazy hippie teen years in one piece. And if it was good enough for them, why was I supposed to sit in my room alone every Friday and Saturday night playing video games? And not even the fun, Mature-rated ones where you get to blow people up and stuff? But there was no way on earth they were going to let me go to a protest. And especially not a protest with Courtney. Even though, like I said, they might have been rebels in their day, my parents are horrified by Courtney. I think she’s incredibly hot, but she’s hot in a Gothy way that apparently threatens the senior-citizen crowd. She wears lots of black eyeliner, dyes her hair lots of crazy colors, and is pretty pierced up. The first time my mom saw Courtney, she asked me, Why would a girl need five piercings?
Meanwhile, I was thinking, Oh, you mean five piercings you can see?
Dad calls Courtney Vampirella.
I’m pretty sure that’s not a compliment.
So I lied to my parents. I took my beautiful Martin acoustic guitar and left. I told them I was walking over to my drummer Tim’s house to work out some songs, when really I was going to Courtney’s, and then from there to City Hall. I wasn’t even sure exactly what the protest was for. Courtney was kind of an activist, so she was always protesting against something: income inequality, or one of America’s wars, or some huge corporation that was raping the environment. I could barely keep track of the news, partly because I spent every spare moment of my life practicing my guitar, or writing songs, or reading about music. Courtney got mad at me sometimes. In fact, she said she wasn’t sure she could ever go out with me seriously until I became a serious person
—whatever that is. She said I didn’t care about anything, which wasn’t true at all. I just felt powerless to change anything. I mean, give me a break. First of all, I had spent my whole life protesting against my parents’ insane rules and regulations, but I still wasn’t even allowed to chew gum in my house (don’t even ask)—so I knew firsthand that protesting didn’t always change the world. Besides, I also knew that my dad had spent his teen years marching on Washington, and the next four decades bitching about how useless it had all