Mom's New Carpet The Doobie Brothers - The Captain and Me I recall the first long week-end my folks decided it would be ok to leave me to run the house. I was about 16 years old and really quite ready to be alone. I spent very little time wondering what I would do with myself during this long week-end. On the Friday I called all my Musician pals up and announced that we would be jamming at my place all week-end. They arrived with their gear and we were off to the races. We played at outrageous volumes until the early hours of Saturday morning. Friday night was really quite tame compared to Saturday. Saturday we got an early start and most of my friends made arrangements so they would not have to go home. Yes this was a premeditated shit face session. We started to jam and drink in the mid afternoon and soon ran out of beer. A couple of the guys were drinking the hard stuff. In fact Peter rifled down a mickey of Southern Comfort in about thirteen seconds. We had a group of us that were heading out for more beer. This would leave Pete alone in the house for a short while. Now Peter was normally a man of great self control and reliability and what was to follow seemed... So out of character. I recall this so vividly. It was late spring and the sun was starting to drop so that left this blazing stream of sunlight coming into our living room. This highlighted my Mothers brand new carpet in the living room. The carpet itself was a semi-shag blazing orange. I recall leaving the house and looking back into the living room as Peter sat himself down in the best chair that was located in the living room that also housed over 70% of my Mom's new carpet. The last thing I said to Peter was "If you spew on my Mom's new carpet I will fucking kill you". We arrived back at the house in about twenty minutes with several cases of beer. I made my way into the kitchen and looked to see Peter sitting forward with his head in his hands and a long sticky strand of spew hanging from his mouth down to the carpet. "You bastard," I yelled. "You hopeless bastard." I kicked him out of the house and while today I feel a bit of guilt, I was so beyond pissed off with him that night. I think I was also disappointed in my own poor judgement. I mean a mickey of Sweet Ass Southern Comfort in thirteen seconds? We all watched out the window as he walked his bicycle across the open circle in front of our house. He was so wasted on that Southern Comfort that he couldn't ride his bike. I cleaned up the spew and we had a great jam session. My Mom never noticed the spew mark and well Pete and I are still good friends. Hell we all have our moments don't we?