Foreigner is one of those tragic victims of the Keyboard Eighties. Why so many Sixties and Seventies survivors felt the need to change what worked for them escapes me. I blame some […]
43. A One-Way Ticket, Only One Way To Go
Notes From A Public Reading
Savannah College of Art and Design, 1987: My final project for drawing class is four feet by ten feet on board, a beast of a thing. I get to class very early […]
42. Changes Aren’t Permanent (But Change Is)
Ninth grade was a very strange time. I was a member of The Guys In Black Tee Shirts Who Jam, but I wasn’t hardcore enough for Prevo, or prevocational school. I played […]
41. We Rock At Dawn On the Front Line
I didn’t ride my bicycle to school everyday. If Melody had something to do after school or I was running late I took the bus. The characters had changed since I was […]
40. To Learn How To Love And Forget How To Hate
During the summer after eighth grade we spent a week at Disney World in Florida. My father bought some sort of package deal that included a campsite, park tickets, and three meals […]
Warrant’s Lead Singer Dies
I lived within walking distance of the famous Sunset Strip at the tail end of the Hair Metal Eighties. This should have been a huge thrill for me, but I wasn’t a […]
39. That Sleepwalk Should Be Over By Now
My first bicycle was a sixth birthday present: A blue Montgomery Ward knockoff of a Schwinn Stingray; sissy bar and ape hanger handlebars; a black banana seat with a white racing stripe. […]
38. What Song Is It You Want to Hear?
My first major breakup didn’t even involve me. My sister dumped Mike, no doubt for valid hell-raising reasons, but without considering me. How was I supposed to find my path to the […]
37. Loneliness Will Haunt You, Will You Sacrifice?
Moravia, Iowa is a small farm town. It was even smaller back in 1920, but it grew by one with arrival of a baby boy named Otis. I imagine he was a […]
36. So I Lit A Fire, Isn’t It Good?
I have been listening to The Beatles since I was four years old. I’ve heard “Norwegian Wood” so many times that I don’t really hear it anymore. It is like a tree […]
