Church Street was the scene of some of our more memorable parties. Tornado Night. Thank God You’re Alive. Lots of photos from this era. I was living here when Barb and I began dating. Yes, there was a church on our street, directly across from us. Good vs. Evil. Allan Johnson and I moved in not long after he got out of the air force and I left the U.S. Postal Inspection Service. Prior to renting the house on Church Street, I (AJ too?) lived in one of Bud Parr’s mobile homes.

I’m almost positive Allan and I rented this house already furnished because I can’t imagine either of us buying the butt-ugly sectional couch that dominated the living room. But it was a great piece of furniture for socializing. And for stacking beer cans with your feet. In this photograph I’m attempting to stack eleven empties. There’s no way to prove I accomplished this but it’s apparent I had the technique to do so.

“It is with a heavy heart that I forward this photo to you. In The Basement Diaries you mention the number of beer cans that you stacked as being eleven. Unfortunately, this photo was taken early in your quest and as I was the one emptying the cans as you stacked them, I was unable to operate the camera mechanism when you reached the lofty goal. I would be happy to provide expert witness testimony to back your claim should you agree to pay the usual fees and expenses.” — Allan Johnson, July 25, 1998.

If I had to pick a single image to sum up the six years that AJ and I lived together, it might just be this shot of our refrigerator on Church Street. I don’t remember either of us cooking a single meal. Contents: Mayo, something red in a jar, Coors beer, V8 juice (AJ’s), pickles, Kentucky Fried side dish, Busch beer.