Two For Tuesdays

Back in high school I had a girlfriend who turned me on to all sorts of girly music…you know, the kind of music you’d never listen to in front of your guy friends…Depeche Mode, The Cure, The Smiths, XTC, and all the other fey alternative bands “hardcore dudes” would sneer at and call “gay.” Which is funny, since we were all listening to this stuff in our cars or behind closed doors thanks to our girlfriends…anyway, one of the bands I was introduced to was WE’VE GOT A FUZZBOX AND WE’RE GONNA USE IT also known as FUZZBOX.

Spirit in the Sky…live on teevee:

Love Is The Slug:

Metal Thrashing Mad!

Hoo-boy, how could I pass these LPs up? The sixteen year old inside me was ready to do extra chores all week to be able to buy these records!

Metallica bootlegs! The one on the left (featuring Senor Reagan) is Live from San Francisco – Oct. 82 with Dave Mustaine on guitar and (most) vocals and Ron (anyone remember me?) McGovney on bass. It’s a “mixing / soundboard recording” and the vocals are right in your face. Imagine the nasally whine Dave had at the tender age of 21…yeesh, it kinda’ freaks out my cat, Dr. Bologna…and me too. The stage banter is priceless and hearing the crowd of, oh, I don’t know, 15 or 20 “fucking Headbangers” scream for “Seek And Destroy” is making me pine for the sweaty nights at Club Oasis in San Antonio.

The LP on the right has one of the worst titles ever: “DEMOLLICA Best Of Demo’s.” Sigh, it’s the best record Metallica hasn’t put out since 1986.

Which brings me to The 3 Record Rule. You see, The Wife has a theory that all rock bands should only get to release 3 records. 3. That’s it. I know, I know, what about The Beatles? Or The Stones? Right , right, I get it…but seriously, think of your favorite bands…aren’t their first 3 usually the best? It’s certainly true for Metallica. Shit, after Master they were never going to put out anything half as good. I mean, And Justice and The Black Album are decent records, but who knows what could have come out of James, Kirk, or even Lars if they formed new bands? Anyway, sometimes I have to agree with The Wife…actually, I always agree with The Wife (except for Miami Blues…and we just agree to never talk about it…ever…because she’s wrong and it’s one of the best movies ever).

Anyway, looking at the pimply faced heshers that were Metallica reminds me of some of the kids I went to High School with. In Middle School I was in the Gifted and Talented Program. You know where they take all the smart kids out of class to do brain teasers and go to UIL competitions where you build toothpick bridges and make contraptions to drop eggs from really high places? Well, I was a bright kid, but I wasn’t nearly as smart as the kid who built a fucking robotic arm or the kid who did experiments on planaria…oh,and I was way into metal. By the time we got to High School they separated us smart kids out of regular classes and made us all go to the same accelerated classes…no dummies allowed. Dear Christ, I was getting sick of hanging out with these same geeks all day…except for gym…and gym was where the metalheads and jocks loved to pick on us.

Don’t get me wrong, I did have some close buddies in those classes…and we stayed buddies even when I got out of the smarty pants classes and joined the rest of the mental midgets in regular classes. Which was kind of weird, since I wanted to be seen as cool by the metal dudes who smoked out by the shop classes and hung around with those “big faced girls” (see: Kim Kelly) I was always too scared to talk to. I finally got my chance after Cliff Burton died. One day in gym class the coach made us get in teams of 3 to toss around a football and I got paired up with two cool metal dudes. Luckily we had a lot to talk about…namely, the untimely death of Cliff. Once I proved my worth with some Metallica knowledge, they stopped picking on me and I started to get the cool head nod hello.

Which was really cool until that one morning…I was hanging with one of my geek buddies talking comics when the two metal heads from gym came walking up. I got the nod and my buddy…well, he got picked up, carried to a dumpster, and tossed in. I just stood there. Once the metal dudes walked away, I walked over to the dumpster and helped my friend out. I don’t remember if we even talked about what happened. Boy, I feel kind of bad about it. I guess I’ll throw out an “I’m sorry” to the Universe and hope he feels it.

I guess, it’s time to flip the “Demo’s” record…..

I still believe!

Yesterday I wasted over an hour trying to post a new blog…I just kept screwing it up. I finally scrapped the whole thing (don’t ask how long it took me to figure out how to delete the damned thing) and got to helping The Wife finish making dinner.

Anyway, I haven’t given up hope on figuring out WordPress! So for some inspiration, I give myself (and you) Tim Cappello!

God, I love me some sexy saxaphoning!