The year was 1985, and Journey were the undisputed champions of
rock 'n roll. Steve Perry and the rest of the band walked
offstage after a mind-blowing encore for the Pasadena,
California audience. The erotic power of the show was still
ebbing in the arena, slowly fading into a mellow bliss. The
crowds, delirious and confused with ecstasy, ambled towards
their cars so they could wait in the post-show traffic and smoke
a few marijuana cigarettes.  One starstruck lad stood in front
of the stage, waiting patiently for a second encore. Some say
the boy waited there for an entire year until Journey visited
again in '86, and during the first song he died of a heart
attack on the same exact spot.  The groupies tore at the tassels
on Steve Perry's colorful vest, and pleaded with him to take
them away and make sweet love for them in his hidden cloud
fortress. Steve Perry cared not for the temptations for the
mortal flesh. It's not like he was gay or anything, but his
divine essence was simply beyond such primal human