The Gold Chain Chronicles

The Gold Chain Chronicles

In the early 90’s, I became obsessed with gold chains. In the summer of 1990, me and Ranjit bought a couple of knockoff gold chains.  We were downtown and this hustler came up to the car where we were hanging out with Junior, Ravi, Nathan, and a few others.  For the bargain basement price of $20, we thought we had scored sweet-looking, rope-style gold chains.  We felt big time for about 10 minutes, or however long it took for the gold veneer to start wearing off and the chains to start turning green.  Ranjit noticed the green marks on my white shirt and soon we both knew that we had been taken for the stooges we were. 

It was lesson learned and next summer we invested in real gold chains from a jeweler at the mall.  The chains were not as gaudy and thick as the fake chains that had caught our eyes the year before.  Then again, we weren’t made of money and $100 bought a modest-looking gold chain.  We still felt super cool and badass with our chains, sports gear and sneakers.  During the summer of 1991, I was helping the church move some furniture and we had rented a moving truck.  Mr Dean, an African American gentleman was driving, and we were traversing a rough part of the city.  It was hot and the truck had no AC, so the windows were rolled down.  As we rolled up to a stoplight, I sat on the passenger side relaxed and making casual conversation with Mr. Dean.  Suddenly a hand reached into the truck and grabbed at my chest and neck.  I instinctively grabbed the intruder’s wrist with my right hand.  There was a brief, frantic struggle.  However, their arm was slippery with sweat and within a few moments, they broke free and ran off.

My chain was gone.  I was stunned and embarrassed.  A skinny black lady who looked strung out had ripped me off.  Mr Dean and I looked at each other in a stupor.  Did that just happen?    Goodbye gold chain #2, it was an altogether too brief affair.  We’ll always have the memories…..of being robbed in broad daylight!

However, I was not going to let deceit or criminal behavior hinder my quest for proper bling status.  It was 1992.  Time to go bigger, go flashier, go more audacious.  Toward the end of the summer, I went to a jeweler at the Brickyard Mall and found the biggest chain that I could afford along with a suitably large cross.  Hey, I was going back to an evangelical, Christian school so this was a declaration of faith.  Right?   The chain and cross were big, flashy, and oh-so ostentatious.  From my standpoint at the time, the perfect accessory for ruling senior year.

A visit over to June’s barber shop on Irving Park Road to have my flat-top freshly coiffed and I was feeling good.

I had the bling, the haircut, the baggy rayon shirts and even a pair of Girbaud jeans.  Appropriate preparations for senior year had been put in place.  The JC Superstar Express was leaving the station and headed toward its destination of total domination.  Say that last sentence out loud.  It sounds like a professional wrestler cutting a promo.  Yes, I operated at that level of foolish buffoonery.

The absurd train analogy was not far off from what was going through my mind at the time.  I was coming back to the place where I felt like myself.  The place where I could pick up where I left off in June 1989 and start kickin’ ass again.  I was going to come back to school to be “The Man”.   There were wrongs that I had to set right.  It was time to make up for lost time, take no prisioners, mark my territory and rule the roost.  Anymore trite teen wannabe alpha male cliches?  Ok, you get the idea.  Slick Rick’s “The Ruler’s Back” accurately captures my state of mind at the time. School was about to start, and I was returning to place where the legend in his own mind was made:  Gospel Outreach Christian High School. 

Slick Rick and myself both appreciated bling.