THE BOOK: Page 1 - Page 2 - Page 3

With that scattered praise, I think the book sold, like, 6,000 copies or something. But America’s music culture was taking a turn for the grunge, and the pastoral debauch that was Athens, Gee-A, faded into lost-world obscurity.

The sun rose. The sun set. The pages yellowed. The bindings cracked. I moved on with another book project. Got a job at Playboy. Injected some old-time Athens punk into the Encyclopedia Britannica for a while (ask me about that adventure sometime) and then moved back to Georgia to raise my kids.

Then something weird happened. Out of the blue people would find me and ask if I had a copy of the book they could buy. Said they had read it a long time ago, wanted to give it to their kid sister who was going off to college for the first time but couldn’t find their copy. I regrettably had to say no, my shelf was empty.

It wasn’t just once. It kept happening. I had one person tell me that reading “Party Out of Bounds” made her change her major from business to graphic design. I felt like George Bailey.

Used copies of the first edition of “Party Out of Bounds” started selling for $35, $40, $75 each. Actually, I don’t know if anybody actually paid that, but that’s what they were asking on Amazon. Seriously. It was weird. The yellowed pages with the cracked bindings were collectible.

The world was crying out for more “Party Out of Bounds.” Something had to be done.