Beating The Clock

The interview has sped by somehow. After doing so many of these things, a half hour seems like a few minutes after being asked the same questions over and over again. Sometimes though, when they ask those uncomfortable ones that PR always tells me to answer, but I refuse to give any truth too, a minute can drag on for an hour.

We've had a few callers and like I expected they're all screaming at me. This early in the morning is not a time to be listening to that kind of shit. They're all the same and I almost can recite what they're going to say to me. Mostly it's just them screaming and me telling them not to get too excited. Blah. Blah. Blah.

Cubby brings us back into the program for the last section of the show. I can see Vivian looking at her watch already knowing that she needs to get me out of here soon. "Billie Joe is hanging out with us on Z100. Our studio audience is here. Give us a TRL yell--"

I wince even before the girls scream outside.

"Yeah that's the way to do it." Cubby pumps his fist into the air triumphantly. "And you know me being the music guy I wanted to talk mainly about your CD and we've done that for a good thirty minutes."

"Uh oh." I sigh. "What does that mean?"

"But guess what? Time to talk personal folks."

I bite down on the side of my mouth and take a drink of water and find Vivian's eyes over the heads of the girls outside. I know what's coming and I feel sick thinking about me having to actually talk about it.

"Cause I'll get in trouble if I don't ask the obvious questions."

"Whatever..." I tug on my hat and take deep breaths.

"Dating anyone new yet, Billie?"

I hate that he's so casual about it. He knows this shit grates on my nerves. It's been a pain for me for several times I've been here and yet he still asks the question.

"Me?" I look around some more and try to find some way to distract him, but the little studio is void of distractions that morning. "Uh, yeah. You know; everybody."

Cubby smiles and knows that I'm avoiding the question. "Tell us about Willa Marviani, any seriousness to it?"

I choose the only safe answer I can think of. "I'm dating everybody."

"In other words he's dating Willa Marviani." He squints his eyes at me. "I know that answer Billie."

I know that everyone has seen pictures of us together and technically we've been out together in LA a few times. It's nothing serious. I just got divorced for fuck's sake, I'm not a slut. "I don't think so. Maybe."

"Oh! See he's making you think!"

I finally break my serious tone and laugh a little seeing that Vivian is on the phone now probably trying to explain what is going on to he people at Reprise and to Rob. "I'm not going to give you anything, man! You could grill me, you could tie me up and beat me I'm not going to..."

I can see his brain rolling into the gutter and I know that I should have just let the whole thing go. "Some of these girls might want to do that."

"Hey! Hey!" I hold up my hands, but celebrate a little as Vivian gives me another horrible look.

"You know I also like to start rumors to see how quickly they make it to magazines." Vivian is now practically screaming into the phone. The girls out there with her and look at her.

"Okay let's start one." I rub my hands together and try to think of something. They haven't mentioned Britney Spears yet and I figure we can trade a little for that gift.

"Is it true you're dating one of the Olsen twins but not sure which one it is?"

The Olsen twins are WAY under-aged and I know that will get me into legal trouble. Vivian hears this and starts making a cutting motion at her throat. "Can we NOT start that rumor?"

"No let's start a rumor and I want to see if it makes it in a couple of weeks."

"Let's start um, let's start, who can I be dating?" I look in the crowd and let my eyes land on Vivian again daring her with my eyebrows that I'd say her name.
The girls out there with her scream. "ME!" One girl calls out her name.

I catch her eye and smile at her. She looks about twelve, and would never be in my realm of friends, but I totally can see the excitement in her eyes and I love her name. "Your name is Lily?" Odd.

Cubby takes the lead and away we go. "Billie and Lily! Alright I like that!"

I hold up my hands like I've just scored a touchdown. "I'm dating Lily!"

"Alright I like that, you heard it here first."

A song is played and I sit back and close my eyes for a moment. Lily, the girl in the crowd gets let into the small studio and comes and stands next to me. I shake her hand and realize just then that most of my fans are like little chihuahua's. They are so excited to see me that they shake. If they had tails I'm sure they'd be wagging them and some of the older ones try as hard as they can to do that. Before when I was married they'd leave me alone a little bit, but now that I'm back on the market my whole life is like the dating game.

I smile and give her a copy of the CD which isn't coming out until the next day.

"Thank you," she says looking at it. Her hand goes to my shoulder and even though I can't feel her skin because of the major layers I'm wearing today, my skin begins to crawl. I don't think of my fans as dirty or anything like that, but in my business you have to be extremely careful of germs and with my morning being how it is, I know that I'm going to be in contact with a million people.

Think of it like coming back from summer vacation. I always know what time of year it is because Joey and Jakob always get so sick when they get back in contact with all the kids in their school classes. When they hang around me and the guys, we live in this like plastic bubble void of germs and contact with the outside world.

She keeps the CD held out to me. "Can you sign it?"

"Sure," I say and wink at her. "Anything for my girlfriend." I wink at Cubby.

"Thanks Billie," she says and hugs me.

I hold my breath and pray that the girl doesn't have a cold. I'm getting way too paranoid right now. My shoulders and arms and hands start to itch and I rub them against my jeans nervously as if I'm wiping the sweat off my palms instead of the germs. I shrug. "No trouble."

Cubby pushes the girl out of the studio so we can continue. "Well I know we got to let you go in a second because I want you to meet all of our Z100 listeners--"
My eyes go to Vivian and she nods her head that I can't stay, which of course sucks, but can't be avoided.

"Billie Joe is hanging out. So the quicker we wrap up the interview the more time you have with them. Any more questions though I don't want anybody mad at me. We have way too many questions I'm going to get to, so Scotty B, the person right next to you has a question."

"Before we go fill in the blank--" I nod.

"We won't have to wait yeras for another Green Day album, right? A new album will be in the makes?"

"It'll definitely happen." I nod.

Cubby waves a hand at the girls. "A final word to the fans?"

"Thanks for coming and I hope you all like the record."

"And we'll see you at the Jingle Ball Dec. 12?"

"Possibly. " I lean away from the microphone then lean in again. "Oh wait! I just want to say hi to my son back in Califnoria. Little J just made the church basketball team and I told him I'd say good luck. So good luck Buddy! And Superman, I'll talk to you later on today. Don't give Mom trouble."

Everyone awes sweetly with a sympathetic gesture. I hate that. To hide my disgust with the rest of the world, I make a cute face and laugh along with Cubby as he goes to another song and talks into the microphone some more.

The studio is switched over for the next show.

Wes jams the doorway with his body and steps between me and the fans. I have to avoid the girls in the hallway because I don't have time to pose for pictures with them. It sucks to avoid them, but it sucks even more to sign some autographs and not sign all of them. I hate being rushed off like that, but the schedule is too tight today to sit with them for more than just a wave.

"Bye Billie!" They yell as I take my backpack back from Vivian and shove my phone into my pocket.

"Bye," I yell back then look at Vivian. "Did anyone call?" I ask knowing that she's been yelling on the phone the whole time that I was on the air.

She just sighs. "I'll talk to you about it later."

I know there is a speech coming and I know she doesn't want to freak out on me in front of fans. I look back towards them as Wes leads us back to the car wondering if I should kidnap one of those girls for the day just so Vivian doesn't beat me up.

"Long morning honey?" I ask sarcastically.

Wes laughs behind us and I know that I'm in trouble. I don't know who she was talking to on the phone and not knowing is scaring me more than knowing probably would have.

He pushes the button for the elevator and we wait again. I can see her forming her sentences in her head. I would think about hugging her against me and joking around with her like I do with Kelly, but I know Vivian won't take my shit and might end up kneeing me in the balls like Wes had predicted.

"What's wrong Vivian?" I ask in a silent voice trying to be serious for a moment.
She looks at me, almost shocked to see me asking her something so personal. She opens her mouth to say something, but I can see the light in her eyes dim a little as she lets out an answer. "Nothing."

"Are you sure?" I ask. "I know I've been an ass this morning, but really if there is something that's messing things up for you this morning I'll stop."

"It's not worth the time to explain it," she says. The elevator opens up and a group of business men from the upper floors are standing inside.

Vivian's face lights up in what I call her PR face. Her smile is too wide and her eyes are too light. "Mr. Clearwater."

"Vivian," the older man said, "It's good to see you again." He looks up at me.

"Billie Joe." He nodds. "It's nice to see you two. I was just upstairs listening to the morning show. I'm glad that the next Green Day album is finally coming out."

"Thanks," I say not understanding who this guy is and why I need to be nice to him. "It's been a long time in coming."

He looks at me. "Don't let them spread you too thin," he says. "I know you had others in the past that have helped you out; keeping your energy level up and a home--"

I sigh and act a little shy listening to him. "It's a little different, but nothing especially hard for me."

The doors close and Mr. Clearwater speaks to the men that he's with and Vivian shows me the schedule. She can tell I'm not paying attention, but it doesn't seem to matter. This is all for show anyway and she'll explain it all again.

Holding onto my backpack I keep my eyes on Wes's back right shoulder as we unload from the elevator. Eye contact can be a very dangerous thing in a situation like this so I try to keep my eyes low unless someone is talking to me.

I swear at myself for not leaving the baseball hat on from earlier. Vivian is sliding her things back into her bag so I have no one to protect me for the time being. David usually comes in handy in situations like this. He will normally start up some random conversation with me just so I don't have to be out there on my own as I walk. I can be surrounded by sixty million people, but if someone isn't directly talking to me the whole world thinks that as an invitation to strike up a conversation which can throw the rest of my day off. It's funny how five minutes here and there can set you back an hour later on in the day. The math never works out right, but it happens.

Half my brain is wondering who Mr. Clearwater is. I've met the man before, probably a million and one times. Still, with all the people that pass in front of me on an average day, his face is only slightly familiar to me. The only clue I get from who he is really comes from Vivian's reaction. She's jumped to attention so I know that he's one of the bigwigs. I guess this is what I pay her for: she remembers all the details that I forget.

"Have a good rest of the day," Mr. Clearwater says as we step out of the elevator.
I feel like bowing since he is in the royal family of radio. "You too."

"You want breakfast?" Vivian asks bumping into my shoulder to get my attention as Tiny turns us towards the door. She speaks to me in a hushed voice as if breakfast is a trade secret or something.

My stomach growls and I look around.

It's amazing how strange you can get when everyone notices everything about you. How many times have I held a fart in my ass until I can get to a place where no one will hear or smell it? Jay Leno's fifteen minute interview can seem to last four hours when you have to pee or fart. It's childish to think that I have to hide my bodily functions from people, but when all the eyes of the world are on you EVERY detail is recorded. I swear to God if I let out a fart or something the whole world would stop. Or at least my publicist wouldn't be around any more since she takes most of the things that I do personally.

Does anyone ever realize how great it is to be able to fart whenever you want? I think when I retire I'll just sit around and fart all day. I know that Joey and Jakob would think that it would be a good way to spend my time. It's surprising to know how ridiculous they think my life is.

I smile at that thought then frown when someone opens the front door and wind whips through the hallway. "You heard that?"

"Yeah," she says suddenly in a good mood. Maybe it's because I'm vulnerable right now and she could say anything to me and get me into trouble since we're in public.

It's sad to say that my true personality rarely comes out. I think the only time lately that I've really been myself is sitting around in the living room in Califnoria with Trace on one side of me and my sons are on the other side of me playing four-player Playstation as they visit for the weekend. That normally wouldn't be that bad, but the truth is that the blinds are always drawn when we play and the doors locked and the phone off the hook as if even the sound of the phone is an intrusion into my life.

She bumps me again and I realize that it's her perfume that's made it to my nose, pushing away the smells of the city. "So what do you want for breakfast?"
I shake my head a little to clear my thoughts. It doesn't work as fast as I want it to and I realize that it's been months since I've been with a woman. Well it's not like I forgot, but being busy with the album and then this trip out to New York, my mind hasn't kept close tabs on the number of days it's been.

Vivian stops and looks at me with a serious expression. "Billie?"

"Wish list or practical?" I say knowing that at times I can ask for whatever I want and get it, but there are some times in the day that getting what's close to us or what is practical is better for me. Being on the radio helps me today since no one will really be seeing me stuff food down my throat.

"Wish list," she says wiggling her eyebrows at me. I know it's just an excuse. If she goes out to get wish list stuff it means she'll be away from me for a while and I think she needs that right now. "I'm feeling generous."

"Anything?" I ask.

"Except your mother's cooking," she says with a wink knowing that if I could have my way I'd send her home to California to bring back my mother's peach cobbler.
I don't know why I act like such a dork when it comes to food, but instantly I'm hyperactive at the thought of eating.

I start to bounce on my feet instead of walk. "Can you hit Mario's uptown and bring me custard and that fruit turn-over thing?"

She looks up at me with this smile that totally makes me smile back. She's the only one that understands me. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah." One thing I never second guess is my love of Mario's fruit turn-overs.
Her hand whips out and she lays her palm out in front of me. "Give me some money."

My eyes grow wide. In all the years I've known her, this is the first time she's asked for cash from me to get something. She normally sends her monthly expenses to Rob and he pays her expenses out of my work fund. I think of it like my own little personal business account.

"I'm just kidding punk." She starts to walk away from Wes and me. "What kind?"

"Where are you going?" I ask. A few people are looking at me and I make eye contact for only long enough to smile then look back at her.

"I'm going to catch a cab." She points to the street. "I'll meet you across town." She hails a cab. "What kind?"

"Apple or Raspberry." I call out my order to her and notice people watching me as I watch her. This could cause issues I'm sure. It seems like lately whenever I talk on the phone people think it's a free for all, a place to ask me anything because they can hear me talking to something that might or might not be my girlfriend.

As I watch her go and bump into Wes's shoulder with my chin. I rub my chin and look around at the girls on the street. They laugh a little and I wave and lean against Wes with a sigh and pretend to sleep for a moment.

I should never close my eyes in public. I know better than to do that. When I open them again the poodle reaction goes into effect and they instantly push towards me. Wes pushes them back a little and tells me in an overly loud voice that we have a schedule to keep and I need to get in the car. I love that he can take the heat off me sometimes.

What he doesn't know and what I don't realize until I get into the car is that my day alone has just ended and that I should have work the khakis this morning.

"Morning Billie."

I turn in my seat and see Sal Calder, charcoal suit and all, stares back at me. His assistant, a smaller version of him in a black suit waves a hand and then taps the phone to his ear and continues his conversation. It doesn't sound like he knows the guy.

Trying not to sound too surprised by his visit, I take a deep breath and tried to act as if this is a good surprise and that I've missed him in the last few months. "Sal?"

"That sounded like a good interview," He said motioning towards the building.
"Yah think?" I ask nervously. Why do I always become Super Southern Man when someone like him is talking to me? I've managed to hold back my accent until he asks me something.

"Your album drops tomorrow," he reminds me as if I've forgotten about it.
How can I forget about it? It's all that anyone is talking about anymore. I want to groan aloud.

No, I want to curl up in a ball and cry like a baby due to the pressure. As much as I want tomorrow to come I know that there are a million and one bad things that can happen because of "American Idiot" coming out.

"You aren't excited?" Sal asks. "For someone who hasn't put out a successful album in years you seem fairly cocky about this."

My eyes narrow knowing that Vivian probably left to go get breakfast because she knew Sal was in the car. I hate her.

"Of course not." I speak slowly and turn to look out the window before I turn back. "I've just got things on my mind. I know--I know. I need to keep my head in the game, but for my rides around town my brain is processing them instead of work so that when I am working I can only think about work."

"Very noble of you," He says. He doesn't seem convinced. He scratches his chin then straightens his tie. It's a typical reaction for something that he doesn't like. It's tied tight enough around his neck to strangle him and yet he plays with the knot at every possible moment. "Really I didn't need that intense an explanation. I just wanted to make sure that you aren't regretting your decision to record an album like this."

I try not to smack him up side the head. He doesn't care about me.

"Regret?" I ask. I'm insulted by the thought. It wasn't as if we just up and decided to abandon ship and make a new sound. It took a lot of guts for me to go to my friends and tell them that I wanted to leave the old us behind and start new. I had to tell my best friends in the world that I didn't want what we'd been working to get for the last 15 years.

What I wouldn't give to be able to tell this man the complete truth and that I hate that he's even here. I don't even know who the hell he is; he began to help produce the album we began before American Idiot and then we lost our tapes and started from scratch. We blamed him for the loss and went back to Rob.

I look out the window and realize that I'm already almost to my next destination. I know that I'll get to where I'm supposed to be, but as the car slows I'm thinking about where Vivian is compared to where I am and where I need to be.

"Yeah."

I turn back around and put my hand on the seat between us. "I'm not at all regretting it." I look him in the eyes to make sure that he knows that I haven't lost my edge and that this decision is the best thing for me.

Sal just nods. I hate that. I hate nodding. I probably do it the most of anyone around and I hate when people do it back to me. Silence is my savior these days, but it tortures me also. I can't stand the fact that people can dismiss a comment or a question with silence as if the silence is this huge deep totally emotionally charged moment.

"Well," Sal finally says. "I'm sure you'll have a great rest of the morning."
I nod and leave the car to follow Wes into the building that houses the next radio station on my agenda for the day.

"You need to be careful of that mouth," Wes says to me in a lowered voice as he holds the door open for me to go inside.

"Fuck you," I say back to him in a grumble.

"Watch it man," Wes says.

The elevator magically appears and we step inside. If it was just Wes with me I would give him a piece of my mind about my morning so far, but since there are radio employees standing there I stay quiet and look at my reflection in the half shiny doors of the tiny elevator. I finally decide to switch hats to my baseball hat and pull out the DEA one from earlier.

When it's sitting on my head I check to make sure that it's sitting right and then I realize that the woman standing next to me is staring at me. I've found in the past that if I talk to people that stare in some situations I can embarrass them more than they could ever effect me. "Is it on straight?"

"Ye-Yes," she says. She lifts a hand then pulls it back like I'll break if she touches me. It's a strange reaction to have considering that most girls want to grab a hold of me and hold on forever and a day. "Almost." She he'sitates and moves the brim slightly back on my head. "It's better if you can see your eyes."

"Thanks," I nod.

The elevator stops at our floor and Wes and I get out. I wink at the woman and say in my overly flirty voice, "Have a good morning." I love using that voice. I get the best reactions out of people that way. I think it flatters them sometimes to see me reacting to them.

"You need to stop that shit," Wes says in my ear as we turn down towards where the studio is waiting for me.

"What shit?"

"Flirting with radio people," he says, "hell flirting with just about anyone right now is dangerous."

"Thanks Wes. I'll remember that when I'm talking to your woman."

His face turns into a frown as he pushes the studio door open and escorts me in.
When I walk in the door I'm expecting only a few people to be in the room, but it turns out that the small ten by ten room has almost 20 people in it. There are five people on microphones and another fifteen fans lining the walls. I wave to them and slide into the seat that is empty at the end of the counter and shove my bag near my feet.

The fans start the poodle reaction. The whisper to each other like I'm not sitting in the room with them. Imagine that white noise sound at a football game coming from fifteen people in a small room with you.

It makes a small room even smaller.