Father's Day. So damn lucky.
I remember ordering this from Blackout (I think that was it?) and years later selling it to Chris Swanson, who was working behind the counter at CD Exchange. I think he gave me a buck for it, probably had it on the shelf the next day for $5.
I go to someone’s site, and I see they have a 100 MP3s and I love them forever. But then I go to bands’ sites, and they have one song up and it’s in Real Audio and I’m thinking, 'What’s your home address because I’m going to stab you in the lungs. Just come out for your mail because I’m going to shank you.'
At the Vid, the stereo sounded good and I asked Deines who he thought was playing. He made his guess, and I thought it sounded reasonable.
To be sure, I asked the bartender, but she didn't know -- said the other bartender put it on and he was out smoking.
Fuck it, I fire up Shazam and tag it. B.R.M.C. indeed. I looked at Deines and gave a nod. The waitress had a conference with her co-worker and leaned over the bar.
"Black Rebel... Mothercycle??" she says, not super confident. She walks away a little lame.
"She's juat thaaaaaat much slower than the iPhone," Deines says. Like a comic genius.
"One thing for sure, Woody Guthrie had never seen nor heard of me, but it felt like he was saying, 'I'll be going away, but I'm leaving this job in your hands. I know I can count on you.'"
It's football season, and I'm trying to pay attention.
see also: twitter.com/decorporated | crizzle.us
