GREENMUSE is a regular reader
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what he has to say!
Previous Musings
.
A Stroll Down Memory
Lane
Ahoy fellow pirates, hope your month is
going well. Here at the wheel of the green galleon things have been nice,
though I certainly could do without anymore hurricanes. I seriously thought
the last one, Frances, had my number on it. But even if everything I owned
was blown from one end of Florida to the next, you can bet your butt I’d
have been on the news saying "it sounded like a freight train". Due to
being frazzled by the worries of getting blown away and a general case
of writers block, yet at the same really digging the stories from the "favorites"
series here at antiMUSIC, I’m going to write some tunes names down and
the memories or whatever that goes along with them. I love the stories
of certain songs or albums that just really stick with you, cheap way of
getting an article done? You bet, but I hope it’s a bit entertaining for
you chaps and chapettes. Now I know some of the tunes mentioned here aren’t
exactly good, but its not so much the songs as what I have attached to
them.
The Offspring –“Self Esteem”: granted
the Offspring are sort of lame now, but Dexter and co used to kick ass
till both feet were poopy. This song will always remind me of my friend
Chris. One night the pair of us were given the task of procuring that nights
booze. So we stopped by a Tom Thumb store where Chris was in well with
the guy who worked there. The guy sold us beer and let us steal gas. All
around good guy, right? Wrong, it turns out later the guy was on the run
for killing his wife in New Mexico. Now around this same time, my then
girlfriend was cheating on me with this other chap from the next town over,
Chris and I shared a bond in the fact, he at one time dated this same girl
and she dumped him after like 2 days. Needless to say that night I was
a bit down. So while driving out to Panama City to meet up with the rest
of the gang. We decided nothing would help my mood better than to start
the drinking early. So about half way there(still a good 30 miles or so)we
were in that special stage of drunkenness where everything is good and
problems go away. I was laughing and rambling in that special drunken way
that makes no sense at all. Then all of a sudden “Self Esteem” came on
and we started rocking out like this was the best thing ever, we sang it
loudly. We swerved all over the road, life was good. Until we got to Panama
City and half the beer was gone. . . .
Later that night I puked on Chris’s truck.
*drinking and driving is bad mmkay. Don’t do it.
Marilyn Manson- “Put a Spell On You”:
This tune always reminds me of this place called the Java Pit we used to
go to after our Saturday night ritual of the Rocky Horror Picture Show.
The Java Pit was a fuckin awesome place. It was tiny but cozy with a crappy
barbarian video game, soft couches and endless cups of coffee. We
would talk to these girls who we saw every now and then at school. But
speaking to them out in the real world, had a certain nicety to it. There
were dollar bills hanging up that people drew on, all sorts of b film posters.
The pit had a long disused fountain out front with vines and graffiti all
over it and was in the middle of a courtyard of a disused office building.
I miss the place a lot. After I moved down to Miami the Java Pit moved
to the front street and tried to be a real venue. It looks like crap the
last time I was up there, so I didn’t go in. Manson fits into this since
my friend and I were huge Manson fans and for some reason this song seems
to fit those times there so well.
Nazareth- “Love Hurts”: Ah, the
tale behind this song. Picture it, Sicily, 1908(don’t ask, the missus watches
Golden Girls and I happen to be in the same room) actually it was North
Florida 1996 or so. I’d yet to know a woman in the biblical sense, we were
over at my then girlfriend’s (the aforementioned one) house and we thought
we were in that oh so elusive world of love, so we decided to *ahem* consummate
the relationship. So we retired to her sister’s room and moved the dresser
in front of the door (the door had no lock). And with it being both of
our first experiences into the garden of earthly delights we turned on
the CD player to distract from the sheer awkwardness of the situation and
for whatever reason she liked this song and wanted to hear it. So with
this tune playing we started to get down to it, when it came time to insert
stick a into hole b and repeat if necessary, we played it safe and I put
on one of those funny little rubber things and right when it was all about
to come together, her parents returned home from some party and it was
a race to gather trousers, shirt and underoos and put them on in the right
order. I’m frankly surprised I didn’t end up in her shirt and underwear.
Of course in the middle of this re-robing her father was trying to open
the door to find out where his other daughter was, the supposed good daughter.
When we finally moved the dresser out from in front of the door we made
like the door was stuck and we couldn’t hear him because of the music.
I slinked out the room in that time honored "I almost made sweet monkey
love to your daughter" slink. If this has happened to you, I’m sure you
are familiar with the slink. You squish your head into your shoulders like
a turtle, insert hands into pockets and can cover an amazing patch
of ground in a single step. The perhaps funniest part of this whole story
was when I made my great escape I stopped by the gas station to pick up
a Dr Pepper and the almost used condom fell out of my trouser leg much
to the horror of the people in line behind me. I responded how anyone would
in such a predicament: shrug my shoulders and say "what? "
U2- “Staring At The Sun”: Perhaps
the lamest period of U2's entire lame career. Fault me if you will, but
I hate U2 with a passion. But this song holds special memories to me. The
gang and I went to go visit some friend of a friend. This guy was only
slightly older than us, but had his own house so it was a real treat to
indulge in some . . . . Substances. I was still fairly new to the lady
Mary Jane but well versed enough to know what to expect. Then the chap
we went to visit broke out the bong, an impressive 3 footer. So with that
we began to smoke. This was my first time using a bong and after a few
minutes it was hitting hard. My ears were burning, the world looked as
though it was expanding and then contracting while the ground felt as though
it were water. I slid into the trucks seat and we began to venture towards
Karl’s house, and all of a sudden “Staring At The Sun” began to play on
the radio, and it kept playing, and playing. It just kept going it seemed.
At the same time the signs warning of sharp turns looked like the mouse
from the mouse trap game yet they were singing “Staring At The Sun” as
well. Of course in between all this I’m rambling to my friends who didn’t
partake of the fun about Bill Cosby and Ernie the Keebler Elf King dancing
naked beside a bathtub. And the whole time that damn song kept playing,
it was stuck on permanent loop in my head. When we stopped to get some
Mountain Dew I spotted some girls coming into the store and I was feeling
fine so I was going to say something slick and suave, but then they both
started singing “Staring At The Sun”. By this time they were right in front
of me and walking closers. The song struck me as hilarious and at the same
time I took a huge gulp of Mountain Dew to quench my dry mouth. And the
instant I did, I felt that special sort of laughter than only happens when
you are on something. That laugh where you must let it out or you will
explode right on the spot in a ball of fire.
Not wanting to drench the girls in Mountain
Dew I stumbled slightly over to the side and guffawed till I couldn’t breathe,
covering myself, the store window and some guys Trans Am in Mountain Dew.
Before the guy beat my ass to a pulp I magically floated into the truck
bed and we were off in a flash of smoke and burning rubber. And of course,
staring at the sun could be heard from the inside of the truck.
Well that’s all we have time for today
folks, this article has sex(well almost), drugs, and rock n roll. On that
note its time for my song of the month, this month the song I’ve been playing
a lot has been: The Dropkick Murphys’ “bar room hero”. It’s near impossible
to hear this without wanting to have a few pints and rumble.
Fan Speak:
What do you think?
Have any song memories you'd like to share with the class?
Fan
Speak:
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