WPRO was never, intentionally, the
soundtrack to my life. Even as a kid I'd rarely listen to it. I aped
my brother's derision of it as a “chick station” that was
delivered the same fare of Top 40 ad nauseum. To this day, I still
can't stand it due to rotating the same songs over and over again.
To those that love it, I'd say, “You never get sick eating McD's
all the time?”
But the joke of the matter is that I
can pinpoint moments in my life by old Top 40. My friend M and I
were doing that in Flynn's bar tonight.
February 1978 was the lowest point in
AOR rock. Why? Because every damn radio station had switched over to
some form of Disco which I hated then. I'd scroll the station knob up
and down and never find any mainstream rock music. That ended when
WHJY went from classical to rock music and freed me.
But guess what? I can pinpoint my past
by Donna Summer songs and...(puking in my mouth a bit) by the Bee
Gees. Ok, I'll be fair here, some of their songs were actually nice.
Toot-toot! Beep-beep!
We all gauge our lives when things were
great vs shitty. There were years we'd love to live again and those
we'd never relive for a million dollars. For me, one of the better
times was when I was 14 in 1978, despite the never ending Disco
soundtrack.
I've often asked myself, “Why then?
What was so great about it? Can I recreate it?”
At that age, I was supremely confident.
I knew everything and I was free to do what I wanted because there
was very little parental oversight, thanks to a deceased Dad and Mom
who stood her distance. As I've mentioned before, I was smart enough
not to blow my freedom by engaging the police or screwing up at
school. I kept that part of my life “in the black.” My other
life, which was well hidden, was spent on being a sneaky little shit
who dabbled in drugs, girls, romping around Pawtucket summers at 3 AM
and acting like I knew it all because now, I was doing what adults
were doing. I was promoted at an early age to adulthood and that
finally getting total power over my life was like 200 amps zipping
through my head.
I decided how my life would be spent in
many areas. My Mom, was more than satisfied that I was pulling in the
grades, and that seemed to be the only hoop I really had to leap
through. So, I dressed as I wanted to and grew my hair out like a
hippy with no lip from her. Plus having me around as the only male
who could fix things, helped a lot.
Remember how certain clothing made you
feel great? We all have a favorite shirt or pants or whatever. I
don't have to describe this to girls at all, do I?
In 1978, one of my fave get ups was a
pair of badly worn jeans, torn of course, a tiger stripe Army surplus
shirt with the arms ripped off and a pair of very beat up Ked's
sneakers. It probably looked like a bad combo but so what, in 1978
it was in. With this clothing, I could take on the world. Another
shirt I had was an American University/Beirut tee shirt. I had R.
Grenier blow holes through it with a .22 for added effect. No one
got the joke though.
Tiger Stripe!
My ramblings weren't a complete secret.
Neighbor's would talk and others as well. As far as they were
concerned, I was on the road to perdition and no good would come of
it. They were wrong because I had something that protected me at all
times, common sense. I wasn't stupid enough to take the outright
riskiest of things. Add to that my Mom's penchant to ignore the
neighbors as she thought most of them to be gossiping jerks to begin
with. Though, it was a hoot when a teacher or other would discover
that this seemingly harmless, studious geek kid was something he was
not. I mentioned before of a time at a Frank
Zappa concert when I turned my head to see my English teacher a few
rows up staring right at me, while a fat joint was smoking in my
mouth. Another time was when I was describing Zen Meditation event
I attended on a grass field in Slater Park to the other kids in my
class. To them at the time, Zen was Satanism. The kicker was what
amyl nitrate can do when you are having sex. My science teacher's
mouth was sort of agape as he heard this coming out of the mouth of
his best student. The other kids were amazed too. Being on the
forefront of late 70's culture before others were awarded me cred.
Well, all that was a thousand years ago
in a time where you could get away with nearly anything, in a way.
Today, I can't joke about a teen runaway going down on me while I
read a book of 14th century porn to her. Gads! That's
IMMORAL!
Why can't I regain this? Because it's
“been there, done that.” It's no longer new to me now. I listen
to kids today become excited at going to some club in Providence. I
think, “Hmm..do that 502 times and tell me how interesting it is
then.” What I need is something I've never done that'll produce
that adrenalin buzz. Skydive over Kiev in the Ukraine? Bunji jump
from some bridge over a burning gorge in chaparral California, with
the Santa Ana winds blasting? And as I do this, I'll need a
soundtrack to that too...
Click and Listen!
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