OH God, the music! I just got my new MP3 player, and have absolutely no idea how to download it correctly; it's not an iPod, it's a Sanyo I think - so I did what anyone would do. I found a kid, I gave the kid the machine, a stack of CDs and $20.00 - can you believe I first thought I could get away with only paying $10? Please. What year am I living in? Obviously, by the titles, and the names of the bands headlining my new player - I'm hovering in the 70's. I'm doing so (this time) without the smoke, without the drink, without the crazy guy's pants hanging off my VW's bumper - who the hell was that guy anyway? He just sort of showed up at the party and used my car as a hotel room - sorry, no shower, Bugs are rather quaint that way. I guess he could have poured the water from my flower vase over his head and called it even.
I remember in high school falling in love with bands that were just a little bit older than me - Yes, Rush, Steppenwolf, Who, Rolling Stones - because before that I had been in love with the Bee Gees, Beatles, Beach Boys, and Billy Joel. About the time Adam Ant came out I decided to give up the punky new age crap and go for the older more sophisticated music of the harder, more manly rockers - those not wearing leather pants, but sticking with dirty old Levis and letting their hair grow out naturally (forgetting the tease and made up faces) I was simply not a KISS fan like my friends were. Garth Brooks grew up about 6 miles from me, he dated a friend of mine - and no, in 1978 the man was NOT into country - his hair was long, he was a rock as they get, and the day I saw him mimicking Gene Simmons may very well have been the day I went home and kissed my poster of the band "AMERICA". There are just somethings yes, we thank God for - His unanswered prayers as Garth later wrote and sang about. I own every record GB every put out, even that silly Chris Gaines CD - but I do prefer my Garth wearing jeans, and I do prefer my Garth, crazy as he is on stage, to be wearing a hat!
So - let the kids tell me to turn it off, turn it down. Let them come up behind me in my OWN house and slam my bedroom door shut to close off the screaming and the whining of those Van Halen guitars.....oh wait, the fantasy.....Alex.....just one ...one...more...moment, awwww, yes...thank you for your indulgence, that man was incredibly - - talented. My daughters get mad at me for not having sex with him, but what I smile about is my own damn business now isn't it? I do love my music and I do love it loud. There's a reason I have various ringtones assigned to the kids now - my son has an obvious one: Steppenwolf's BORN TO BE WILD. Say no more.
Let it rock!
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