And that’s what’s really at the heart of this decision: I can’t shake this story or these characters. It’s what I always come back to. So, I think this is The Universe trying to tell me something: finish this story before you move on to something else. And so I will.
Less than two years after my band formed, we were offered a sponsorship from Budweiser. $10,000, a shit ton of beer, and all the swag we could throw out at gigs. In exchange, all we’d have to do is pimp Budweiser for a year. We said no.
So, was that stupid?
It has taken me a while to process the death of Eddie Van Halen, and by “process” I don’t mean I’ve been so saddened by this that I can’t form words but more like, this death struck me in a strange way that I couldn’t put words to.
So, if you’ll excuse the late eulogy – and if anyone’s still listening – I would like to mourn a death.
The death of the Guitar Hero.
With the summer coming to a close, it’s time to send the kids back to school, and by “send,” I mean, “keep them locked up at home and try not to get them killed.” Though that’s Job #1 for all parents (Job #2 being fully restocking the wine fridge), never before has the job felt so immediate and overwhelming. So is that why I’m feeling so anxious, or is it something else entirely?
Could this be a sign of…maturity? The insane notion that I could simply embrace the platonic awesomeness of our friendship and carry on like grown-ups should? I don’t know, because I know of absolutely zero adults who behave this way with their ex-girlfriends.
Having basically come of age during the era that Yacht Rock was birthed, I have some unique insight to this music. For a 16-year-old in southern California, hell-bent on muscle cars and the pursuit of boobs, Yacht Rock was simply known as pop music – the stuff they played on The Mighty 690 AM station, mega-beamed from a zillion-watt blow torch in Tijuana. It was the stuff you had to listen to when your 8-track player was on the fritz.
We’re basically returning to lockdown due to a global pandemic while our nation goes through childbirth-grade contractions as it struggles to reconcile its identity. Not much left to do except drink, watch Netflix, have sex and sleep. Maybe eat. Breathe, perhaps. Bake, apparently. Voting would be nice, too.
What does destiny and a damn good barbecue have in common? Not much, really, but that’s never stopped a podcast before. This week, just in time for the July 4th Holiday, JT counts down the Top 3 Wines that go with barbecue, all the while contemplating whether we are put on this Earth with a destiny to fulfill. It’s the kind of shit you talk about when you’re drunk anyway, so just roll with it.
The short answer is, no, though I would certainly rank myself somewhere above our current president but just under Neanderthal. I can bullshit my way out of pretty much anything, though I don’t think that has as much to do with intellect as it does… Read More »Are You Smarter Than A Fifth Grader?
I’ve also had an on-going dilemma about this whole situation as well, wondering if a little more honesty isn’t appropriate? After all, we bared our souls on this show, and asked you to bear yours as well.