We were lined up outside the Logan Square Auditorium in Chicago for the John Hinckley Jr. concert when we learned the concert had been canceled. The venue sent the email minutes before doors were scheduled to open. I had been passing the time in line checking my phone, so I learned this first. My older brother Cal was chatting with a DePaul student queued behind us with her friends.<\/p>\n
Cal said, \u201cSee, if I were Hinckley, I would have\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
I interrupted Cal to break the news. The venue was concerned about safety.<\/p>\n
One of the DePaul student\u2019s friends said something about a bomb threat.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd they say cancel culture isn\u2019t real,\u201d said another friend.<\/p>\n
Then Cal finished his thoughts. \u201cI wouldn\u2019t have missed,\u201d he said. \u201cBelieve me.\u201d The student and her friends all nodded.<\/p>\n
Cal excused himself. I reread the email. Nothing about rescheduling the show or issuing refunds. Cal returned a few minutes later.<\/p>\n
\u201cHouse show at your place,\u201d he said. \u201cHinckley still wants to play tonight. I talked to his manager at the front of the line. I said we could provide a new venue if we could be Hinckley\u2019s opener.\u201d<\/p>\n
Cal and I were one-half of the Chicago-based indie rock band Adlai the Last, which we had started together in high school. Pitchfork<\/em> loved us in 2013, but today, in our thirties, we were dinosaurs in the scene. That Netflix show Easy<\/em> featured us on their soundtrack several years ago; otherwise, our career had been quiet. Our most recent album came out pre-COVID, and we hadn\u2019t even played live in six months. We had been recording our latest album for over a year now with a divorced dad in Naperville who had installed a recording studio in his basement after his ex-wife and kids moved out.<\/p>\n \u201cI haven\u2019t cleaned,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n \u201cThis is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity,\u201d Cal told me.<\/p>\n Cal said he would have offered his place if he lived closer. \u201cThink of the band,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n My roommate and his girlfriend were staying in tonight. I had to text him.<\/p>\n Concert canceled. But now we\u2019re playing a show at our place. Hinckley\u2019s playing too. That OK?<\/em> I put away my phone. I wasn\u2019t going to wait for an answer. Cal had made his decision. And the band needed shows.<\/p>\n Cal yelled to the line of a hundred people that there was going to be a house show at Fullerton and Kimball. Then he gave everyone my address. The apartment couldn\u2019t fit all these people. I asked Cal if we could play in the backyard, but he protested due to the cold weather.<\/p>\n \u201cDo you want to make Hinckley play outside in this?\u201d he asked. \u201cHasn\u2019t he been through enough?\u201d Cal asked me to text the rest of the band to get to my place ASAP. He said Hinckley would meet us there.<\/p>\n Then we walked back to my apartment. A lot of people beat us there, and they weren\u2019t happy about having to wait on the front porch.<\/p>\n \u201cAbout time,\u201d a guy said as I opened the front door, entering before me, but there was another door I had to open with a second key, then he walked in front of me again. There was a third locked door at the top of the stairs.<\/p>\n The drummer, Max, couldn\u2019t play tonight; he was bartending at the Native until two. The bassist, Henry, lived in Lombard, and he could be here in forty-five minutes, he said, but his wife wasn\u2019t happy. Is she bringing the kids?<\/em> Cal texted him in our band group chat, and he didn\u2019t reply. Cal suggested that his children should meet a \u201ctrue American hero,\u201d and maybe John Hinckley Jr. would gift them a guitar pick they could bring to show-and-tell.<\/p>\n The kids are in bed,<\/em> he replied. And so was I before you texted me fifty fucking times about this.<\/em><\/p>\n It was difficult for Cal to remember that we weren\u2019t in our teens anymore, that we had responsibilities, mostly because he didn\u2019t have any. And the people he spent his time with didn\u2019t either. He always sought out other people\u2014younger, cooler. I loved my brother, but he acted like this all the time. It was part of the deal. He needed me for this show. And I needed him. I needed the band\u2014I was \u201call the way with Adlai,\u201d like the slogan for Adlai Stevenson II\u2019s 1956 presidential campaign. The second of two losing campaigns. The Stevenson political dynasty from Illinois was the inspiration behind our band\u2019s name, courtesy of Max, who was a history buff in high school.<\/p>\n I was excited to meet John Hinckley Jr., all things considered. I was going to make the perfect tweet about this. It had to be both controversial yet not get me added to a list. I had a draft cooking, a half-baked Reagan assassination joke, punchline to be determined. I would get it there by the end of the night.<\/p>\n Cal and I started to set up our amps in the living room.<\/p>\n I asked him if John Hinckley Jr. was here yet, and he said he was getting food.<\/p>\n \u201cHis manager said he\u2019s never eaten a Chicago-style hotdog before.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCan I talk to his manager then?\u201d<\/p>\n Cal said he was with Hinckley getting the hotdogs.<\/p>\n \u201cHow long is he going to play?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDoes it matter?\u201d Cal asked. \u201cYour neighbor blasts that oldies shit all the time.\u201d Cal was right, but I wasn\u2019t concerned about noise complaints. I wanted to know how late people would be here so I could figure out how angry my roommate\u2014and his girlfriend\u2014would be. The lease was up soon. His girlfriend wanted them to move in together. I didn\u2019t want to find another roommate, and I especially didn\u2019t want to find another apartment. I checked my phone and had a text from him, but I didn\u2019t read it.<\/p>\n I asked Cal if we could have people out of here by one, and he said we could do that.<\/p>\n \u201cDoes John Hinckley have a drummer we can use?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n \u201cHe\u2019s doing a solo acoustic set,\u201d Cal said.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat about your new friends?\u201d I asked, pointing to the DePaul students in the corner, reading the titles on my bookshelf. One was holding my copy of Our Band Could Be Your Life<\/em>, which I had owned since high school, before we even started the band, and I wanted to make sure they didn\u2019t steal it.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat about them?\u201d Cal asked, as if he had been accused of a crime.<\/p>\n \u201cAre any of them musicians?\u201d He eased up, then said they weren\u2019t. They all studied film and television production.<\/p>\n \u201cCan I borrow this?\u201d The DePaul student held up the Azerrad book, and Cal nodded.<\/p>\n I escaped to the back porch for fresh air, where a group had congregated. I couldn\u2019t get an exact head count, but the number exceeded the maximum occupancy\u2014eight persons or twelve hundred pounds\u2014listed by the caution sign.<\/p>\n I checked my phone for a text from Henry. No updates.<\/p>\n \u201cIs Hinckley going on?\u201d someone asked when I opened the back door.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat\u2019s this address?\u201d asked someone else. I abandoned the safety hazard.<\/p>\n Inside, I heard, \u201cThere\u2019s a line,\u201d then looked down the hallway as a lanky DePaul student standing by the bathroom put a hand on my roommate\u2019s shoulder. I walked over to them and guided my roommate into the kitchen, asked if he needed anything.<\/p>\n \u201cLike what?\u201d he said.<\/p>\n I suggested a drink, and I said he could use a beer.<\/p>\n \u201cI know where the fridge is,\u201d he said. \u201cThe PBR\u2019s all gone.\u201d He pointed to the DePaul student in line for the bathroom, who now sipped a tall boy.<\/p>\n \u201cIs that mine?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n \u201cI saw him bring a six-pack,\u201d I lied. \u201cDo you want me to ask him for one?\u201d<\/p>\n He said he was going to have some whiskey if this was \u201cgoing to happen.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOlivia should invite her friends,\u201d I told him.<\/p>\n He said his girlfriend didn\u2019t want anything to do with this.<\/p>\n I returned to the living room to ask Cal if John Hinckley had arrived yet.<\/p>\n \u201cUber driver got lost, but Hinckley\u2019s on the way,\u201d Cal said.<\/p>\n The beer was a problem for more than just my roommate. There wasn\u2019t enough alcohol to keep these twentysomethings entertained, and half the band still wasn\u2019t here, so Cal asked if I could get us an opener for the opener.<\/p>\n \u201cThe people need music,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n I thought of one musician I could ask, a singer-songwriter I saw play at the Hideout last year. She lived in the neighborhood too. I texted her: Can you get here in ten?<\/p>\n \u201cTell her it\u2019s BYOB,\u201d Cal said.<\/p>\n Max popped up from behind Cal. \u201cCheck this out.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat are you doing here?\u201d I asked him, and Max said he quit his job.<\/p>\n \u201cI couldn\u2019t miss this,\u201d he said. He showed me a tweet on his phone from the Hollywood Observer<\/em>. There was a picture of Jodie Foster that looked like a screenshot from a Zoom interview. The tweet read: \u201cJodie Foster reveals new details about her initial reaction after fan John Hinckley Jr. shot President Reagan in 1981: \u2018Truth be told, I was a little impressed.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBro, do you think he\u2019s seen this?\u201d Max asked.<\/p>\n I asked for his phone, and I clicked the username. A link in the profile directed the user to the Wikipedia page for satire.<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t show him that,\u201d I said. \u201cIt\u2019s fake. Do not show him that.\u201d I returned Max\u2019s phone.<\/p>\n I told Cal I texted the musician about playing before us, then told Max for a third time that he should not show John Hinckley Jr. the fake Jodie Foster tweet.<\/p>\n \u201cDo you have Hinckley\u2019s ETA?\u201d I asked Cal, and he shook his head.<\/p>\n Based on Henry\u2019s earlier text from when he left, he would be here in about twenty minutes. Then all of Adlai the Last would be here. I knew that much. One step\u2014and one set\u2014at a time.<\/p>\n The singer texted me back: Be there in five<\/em>. Minutes later, she stood in front of the crowd, acoustic guitar in hand. We had gone on a couple dates. The last texts between us had been drunk ones from me about how we \u201cshould get together to collab,\u201d and she had graciously ignored them. The crowd liked her enough, nodded along, wooed appropriately. I was maybe still in love with her. I had obtained a warm PBR from someone who had indeed brought their own. I checked my phone for texts from Henry between her songs, but he still hadn\u2019t made it to the city. The singer\u2019s set ended, and the crowd applauded. She took a spot next to me. The next band was us, I realized, so I had to set up. I thanked her for playing on such short notice, then told her we could give the crowd her Venmo, but she said the show was pro bono, that she was just excited to hear John Hinckley Jr.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ve watched all his YouTube videos,\u201d she said. \u201cTalented songwriter. The love songs are sweet.\u201d<\/p>\n The Logan Square Auditorium show had sold out before she could buy a ticket. This was her second chance.<\/p>\n \u201cWe all deserve second chances, don\u2019t we?\u201d she said. And I said cheers to that.<\/p>\n I asked if she wanted to finish my beer and made the handoff.<\/p>\n The DePaul students started talking to her, complimenting her set and asking where she got her tattoos (\u201cother house shows\u201d). I went to find Cal and the rest of the band.<\/p>\n Henry had finally made it, and after we hugged, he said he couldn\u2019t find street parking and parked in the Walgreens lot on the corner.<\/p>\n \u201cThey\u2019re going to tow you there too,\u201d I said, asking for his keys. I told the band to set up while I found a spot.<\/p>\n I parked Henry\u2019s minivan a few blocks away, then ran back to the apartment. I paused for a second before I opened the third and final door.<\/p>\n In the living room, I pushed past all the concertgoers, standing room only.<\/p>\n And then we were up. Adlai the Last, back in action.<\/p>\n Cal introduced us, then we started playing.<\/p>\n The setlist was vibes-based, whatever Cal wanted to play: a song from our first album he wrote when he was fifteen, a sloppy Dinosaur Jr. cover, an extended drum-and-bass jam. The crowd was into it. My roommate and his girlfriend even joined the crowd, and they didn\u2019t look upset.<\/p>\n Cal told me we had one song left. He asked for a PBR from the crowd, and a girl in the front handed him one. He thanked her. Then he walked over to me.<\/p>\n \u201cHinckley\u2019s not playing,\u201d Cal said, taking a sip. He let out a satisfied ahh.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat?\u201d I asked. He handed me the beer.<\/p>\n \u201cHinckley\u2019s not playing,\u201d Cal said. He tuned his guitar.<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re fucking with me,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n Cal shook his head. \u201cI know the guy who booked the show. They figured it was going to be canceled. Hinckley\u2019s probably not even in Chicago anymore.\u201d<\/p>\n The John Hinckley Jr. Redemption Tour had ended before it even began.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat about his manager?\u201d I asked. \u201cDidn\u2019t you talk to him?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, I was talking to this girl from UIC I saw closer to the front of the line.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIs she here?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n \u201cI invited her, but she said she didn\u2019t like indie rock,\u201d Cal said. \u201cI\u2019m meeting her at Cole\u2019s after this.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNext song?\u201d Henry asked.<\/p>\n Cal told him. Then he turned back to me. \u201cThis has to be the best solo you have ever played in your entire fucking life.\u201d<\/p>\n The last song was one of the rare few where I had a bona fide solo. I generally played rhythm guitar and Cal handled the flashy parts, but this one, titled \u201cAuditorium Anthem,\u201d was the exception. Adlai the Last had once even played it at a sold-out gig at the Logan Square Auditorium.<\/p>\n Of course, that was years ago, the Chicago Reader<\/em> writeup now a broken link.<\/p>\n The crowd stirred.<\/p>\n Cal kissed my forehead. He said he loved me.<\/p>\n \u201cThey\u2019re going to hate us when they learn Hinckley\u2019s not here,\u201d he said. He had never been more serious than this moment. \u201cYou need to make them love us.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Cal suggested that his children should meet a \u201ctrue American hero,\u201d and maybe John Hinckley Jr. would gift them a guitar pick they could bring to show-and-tell.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":182,"featured_media":22341,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-21727","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-fiction","writer-zachary-kocanda"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21727","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/182"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=21727"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21727\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":22342,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21727\/revisions\/22342"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/22341"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=21727"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=21727"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=21727"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}