No More No More

Get Your Wings Tour

I certainly didn't sleep that night that Steven played Seasons of Wither for the first time. He didn't sleep either. Neither did Tom, until he left that is.

March 1, 1974

I held in my hands a square of cardboard with a picture of Aerosmith on the front.  Recently they had added wings to the logo.  And I won't say why, but Steven picked the name Get Your Wings for the album.  I'll let him tell you why if he ever so chooses to do so.  Again, not sayin' why...

        The album was great.  Only their second album, but some stores were already sold out of it.  It was released today.  In my hands I held the original copy.

     I again did not join Aerosmith on tour.  I'm not sure why, but I just don't dig the whole touring thing.  I'd watch the apartment, pay the rent, visit my mom, call Steven.  They have a show in Baltimore in a few days... Then there's nothing until April.  I'll attend that one and any others in Massachusetts that I can get into.

     It was rainy and cold the day that they left.  Steven stood outside and held me in his arms until the whole band was yelling at him.  First it was just the occasional beep of the horn, but then it was more frequent and the cabbie was yelling.  Finally, the whole band was yelling at him.  We kissed one final time before he stepped into the cab.  I was shivering, even wrapped in his arms, but now without them I would consider myself frozen.  How lucky I'll be if I don't catch a cold.

    Not lucky.  Not lucky at all.  I cleaned up the apartment a bit before I realized how tired I was. I wasn't up über early, but I was up pretty late.  I made a mug of tea and sat down on the couch.  Before I knew it, I was asleep.

    The following morning I woke up quite early, considering it was still dark outside.  I was freezing cold, my arms had little goosebumps on them.  My head ached, my throat burned, I felt like shit.  I got off the couch once to get a blanket.  Other than that, I basically slept all day... Until Steven called, that is.

     The ringing of the white phone right on the table near my head was piercingly unpleasant.  I wasn't entirely sure as to what time it was.  "Hello?" I tried to squeak out.

     "Annie?"  Steven sounded unsure.

     "Yeah?"  I tried to show enthusiasm, I really did.  I couldn't exactly think of anything else to say, and I'm sure there wasn't much more I could say.  That, and I was half asleep and I felt like death.

     "Uh, what's goin' on?"

     "Nothin' much," I yawned.  "How's the tour?"

    "Fine."  His mind seemed to be on more important things than a tour.  "Are you okay?"  Ah, yes. More important things.

     I smiled, realizing that I was the more important thing.  "Not really, no," I croaked with a chuckle at the sound of my voice.  I sounded kinda like Steven after a show.  "I'm kinda sick."

     "Yeah, no shit," he muttered.  "How bad?"

     I considered for a minute.  I tried to speak, but no sound came out.  I painstakingly cleared my throat and spoke, "Not too terrible... It's only a cold."

     He still seemed worried.  He sighs then.  "Alright, well listen sweets: I gotta go.  I'll see you soon... Feel better, okay?"

     "Okay," I barely whisper.  He seems very rushed.  He didn't say I love you.  I tried to say it, but before I could get any sound, the line went dead.  I groaned, slamming my head back against the pillow I set on the arm of the couch.  I instantly regretting doing this because it brought on a spiraling headache that was only masked when I finally fell asleep.