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Often people ask me why I have named my site Charlie's Mansion. The name itself just came to me
one day, but there is much more to Charlie's Mansion then just the name. The thought or idea of
Charlie's Mansion is based off of my old house. I think it was Wayne who actually pointed out
to me what everything had become. I wonder if he ever wrote that book? Anyway, everything was
going quite well for me back then. I had a band, and we were actually kinda good. We had band
practice in my house and four or five people had a key to my house. I gave them these keys because
I wasn't always home from work when they got there and I didn't want them waiting outside. Eventually
we started inviting people over for band practice this lead to at least twenty people being in
my house everytime we had band practice. At first this was fun, we got to play in front of lots of
people, and we were never bored because there was always somebody there to talk to. Now, we had
band practice every Wednesday and Thursday, which were usually my only two days off of work.
Only two of us ever had money, so we always had to buy the rest of them food. Eventually
eveyone in the band except me and the drummer started smoking lots of pot. Days we practiced, they
would come over, have me get them food and pay for it. They would say well lets not practice untill
after we eat. Then we would eat, and they would say were gonna go smoke quick. An hour later they
would come downstairs and say thay they were too stoned to play. That was band practice. Eventually
the band broke up, there was simply just nothing left anymore. When it was in it's prime state of
confusion was when it was the true equivalent to Charlie's Mansion. It was much worse then I've
said in this brief paragraph, but I'll leave all that out for now. Anyway metaphorically, Charlie's Mansion was
where the crazy old man lived and everytime someone visited him he yelled and screamed for them to
get out. They would come all the time not just on the days they were supposed to come but everyday.
It's a very odd feeling, feeling unwelcomed in your own home. Knowing that none of them want you
there. They want you to go back to work so you can buy their next meal though. But to kick them
out is to eternally lock the doors to the mansion. Destroy the mansion!?! Ruin it, just for them!?!
How could we do something like that? Why ruin something so perfect and great like the mansion, just
to ease the pain of one man. However there was no way that crazy old man could destroy the mansion
on his own. He could barely keep track of what was going on anymore. And our great hero realized all
of this...and Wayne did the only thing he could do to end my torment, he quit the band. That sure enough
did it. The mansion is done for now. No longer do I have to worry about all those things, I didn't
realize all this at first, but now I see. Stories with happy endings are fairy tales.
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