I gotta say I don’t think I’m going to make Day 21. I’m at an awesome concert with Down and Black Label Society. On a work night no less…
At the Myth, Maplewood, Minnesota . .
You know how rigid I am about these rules. After all, on Day 12 I had a hard time posting The Last Song I Heard, because every time I got ready to post, I heard another song. So like it or not, this is the first song alphabetically on my iTunes library. I would have had to go down to song #3 before I found anything less edgy, Kelly Clarkson’s Addicted.
Please know, that for the more delicate of my readers, I did think about bypassing #1 and #2. But in the spirit of the challenge and for the sake of honesty, I chose to post Absinthe With Faust by Cradle of Filth.
“Faust is the protagonist of a classic German legend. He is a scholar who is highly successful yet dissatisfied with his life, so he makes a pact with the Devil, exchanging his soul for unlimited knowledge and worldly pleasures. The Faust legend has been the basis for many literary, artistic, cinematic, and musical works that have reinterpreted it through the ages.”
We met at a bar called The Rock. We both came to see the same band, each knowing someone who knew someone in the band. Fate stood us next to each other at the bar. We chatted. He bought me a drink. Before the night was through I had his phone number on a dollar bill. He claims it was the best dollar he’s ever spent.
The bar has since been sold. It is now The Dog House and entertains young hipsters dancing to cover bands. The band broke up. The dollar has been lost, spent on I don’t know what. The story varies depending on who is telling it. Yet Bubba and I remain.
His favorite bands are Metallica and Judas Priest, possibly not in that order. A song by either of those groups remind me of him. Since Enter Sandman is my favorite song by Metallica, I was thinking it is probably the closest we will ever get to “our song.”
. . . And then tonight we were sitting at Dairy Queen drinking our malteds. Bubba said, “We have to get home so we can watch Game of Thrones.” He started humming the theme song excitedly to get me up and moving. “It’s our song, baby!”
Peace . . .
Here’s the challenge: Stuphblog. I dare you.
This is the story of how Martha met Metal.
Years ago, before four teenagers lived in my house all at one time, I worked at home as a mother and full-time volunteer at school, church and Girl Scouts. It was as suburban a life as you can imagine. Keeping the six of us alive, fed, clean and free of tears for as long as possible occupied my hours. Organization was key. There were coupons, menus, homework, and schedules.
In this past life I was somewhat of a crafter, musician, teacher, short-order cook, enthusiast of everything homemaking. I was Martha, minus the fans, magazine, and insider trading.
When my third child discovered Ozzy Osborne in the middle of a Shania Twain household, everything changed. I accepted the invitation to his room where he turned up the volume and anticipated my reaction. If I remember correctly, I cocked my head to one side and nodded. It wasn’t long before I was trying out some different presets on my car radio.
The van was full of car-pooled kids picked up from three different schools when one of my new favorite songs came on.
NEIGHBOR BOY: What are you listening to, Ms. J.?
ME: This is metal.
NEIGHBOR GIRL: Do you like that music, Ms. J.?
ME: Well, yeah, but it doesn’t sound nearly as good as when it’s loud. (Turning up the volume)
NEIGHBOR KIDS: Whoa! Ms. J., turn it down!
It took me a few years to decide Disturbed was my favorite band. Since then I have added enough preferences to blur the line between first, second and third place, but these guys were my first favorite. That must account for something.
Peace . . .