I had my 20 year reunion on Saturday night and learned a few things . . .

1. I was way better at remembering the names and faces of the men than the women. This is largely due to the fact that I had crippling shyness and horrible self-esteem in high school, and as a result didn't talk to girls. As a matter of fact, I didn't go to one school dance, didn't make time with any ladies, didn't have a girlfriend . . . none of that good stuff.

This isn't something I think about very often because I made up for lost time and dated enough women in my twenty's and thirties, but it's something I was unexpectedly sad about at the reunion and during a pretty awful hangover the next day. I'm not a dwell on the past type of guy - more of a let's look forward type - but there is just something pretty shocking about talking to close to 100 people that I had no relationship with back then. They had all those parties, played on all the teams, and had all those old times to talk about . . . All I could think about were all those miserable years I spent so scared to be embarrassed somehow that I spent the whole day in hiding, avoiding human contact. I just got through the school day in hiding until I could get home to my Metallica and Ozzy c.d.'s.

2. Just like at our 10 year, we took pictures of groups of people who went to certain grade schools and junior high schools together. It was those grade school people that I most wanted to see and hit it off with most that night. There's just more history: More times of people pissing their pants and eating paste and shit. I can't explain it.

3. One guy who was really quiet back in school showed up at around 8PM completely hammered. He has a drinking problem, and that's something that I know about pretty well from his younger brother. We were cracking up watching him corner people in the most awkward conversations ever, and at one point he unleashed a whiskey fart that cleared out the one whole half of the bar. Maybe, like me, he was having some crappy feelings coming back up and anxiety about seeing and talking to people so he drank even more than usual. Poor guy.

4. Speaking of drinking, it was kind of fascinating to stay and watch which classmates stuck around late into the night and kept boozing. I made a mix of songs from 1991 to 1995 to plug into the stereo system at the bar, and I got a lot of compliments on it. I had around five hours of music listed alphabetical according to song title. I remember asking for my iPod back around midnight to head to the after hours bar with "Waterfalls" by TLC playing, so the mix was just about over. Some of the classmates at the bar had told me they had kids at home, and one of the hardest partying ladies had four boys. Everyone was cool and a lot of fun.

I really should have given people more of a chance back in high school because that was a bar full of great folks. Except for the guy who was excited to show me that he had a business card with his picture on it and said I should come stay with him next time I'm in the area in his 10,000 square foot Victorian mansion. I'm guessing/exaggerating the square footage figure, but he for sure said Victorian mansion. He was kind of nerdy back then, and now he is an over confident nerd. I wanted to let him know, "It's okay, man. Everyone is cool and grown up now. No one will make fun of you. Come, let's get a beer at the bar together and listen to "In the Meantime" by Space Hog." You too, readers, should grab a beer and hit play on that one.

That Guy's Vein Is Kickin'

The other night a friend was saying he was throwing a party at a bar called Fat Pour, and I thought for all the world that he said fat porn.  This got me thinking that I have seen a couple of fan porns.  One night my buddiess from our high school track team decided to get together one night to watch a couple of these disgusting films.  One of our friends worked at a video store, and I think his morbid curiosity got the best of him, staring at those boxes in the little room behind the curtain all those times.  We settled in for a horrifying double feature: "Life in the Fat Lane" and "Fat Liners," both of which were equally gross.  They were just a series of big buff studs taking on really fat women, and one of them, the headliner, was around 800 pounds.  She looked like the Michelin Man.

Every ripple is like a new position in the Kamasutra!

Years later I ran into a guy from the track team who was there that fateful night.  He had long hair and would listen to Nine Inch Nails between races, which is of no consequence, but a fine choice for music, I think.  Anyway, he said, "Do you remember what you said that night that had us all laughing our asses off?"  I could not even wager a guess.  I was a much quieter and shy guy back then, believe it or not, so when I would finally say something, it was usually a doozy.  Apparently what I said when turning away from a close up on a big screen of a guy's wang was "Ugh, that guy's vein is kickin'."

Rape Me, My Friend.

I was running today to "In Utero" by Nirvana, something I hadn't heard in a long time. What struck me is that this is their worst record by far - not even close. He had success and too much fame for his tastes and wanted to release a big F-U to the public, and he was probably horribly depressed and doing too many drugs. Still, it's a better record than most any band will ever make; He was such a naturally gifted songwriter that he made a good record in spite of himself.

Then when "Rape Me" came on, I thought about an Environmental Science class in high school that I was taking when that record came out (Dr. Ken went to school during the grunge era) and a project we had in which we had to bring in a CD to play with a song that was about the environment.

A young Dr. Ken, a metal-head at the time, read a few lyrics from a song called "Greenhouse Effect" by Testament, which is a rather awful song about, you guessed it, the greenhouse effect. Only like three tracks still hold up on that album, but the cover art is still terrific, don't you think? I didn't want to play it on the stereo because I thought the metal would scare the other kids - I was a giant pussy at the time because now I would be more like, "deal with it, pussies."

Then, a classmate of mine had the teacher put on "Rape Me" by Nirvana. We listened to the whole thing, and the teacher was obviously disturbed and offended, especially by the time it got to the breakdown at the end where Kurt is just yelling "rape me" over-and-over again. She asked the young man what the song is supposed to mean and just why in the hell did we listen to that whole abrasive thing, to which he said, "I dunno. I couldn't think of anything."

He could have made something up about it being about mother earth being raped by non-earth conscious consumers using too much hair spray and polluting and the like, but nope, he just came clean and said he couldn't think of anything. Outstanding. A good day in my otherwise highly uneventful high school tenure. Don't forget to turn off my music player along the right panel if you want to see this awesome live performance of "Rape Me" with a young Dave Grohl going all the way off.

Metal Up Your Rear

This is a piece I just wrote that will be going on Stay Thirsty very soon. Hope you like it:

When I was either in my God awful sophomore or junior year of high school, I don’t know which because they blended into one collective shitty experience, I wanted to off myself one night while listening to “Fade To Black” by Metallica. It could be that the song moved me to want to end it all or it could be that it saved me from it, but either way, it had an effect on me. That type of music was just about all I liked back then. Sure, I liked some rap every now and again, but only if there were loads of references to shooting people – I was a pretty dark dude back then.

The metal phased its way out of my regular rotation as the years went on, revealing itself again here and there during the occasional metal renaissance, but still, it is the genre of music that got me passionate about rock to begin with – and for that I have Anthrax and the others to thank. Lately, that sound has been getting more and more play as I have been getting into marathons, weights, and the pressure of a looming weakening metabolism. I’m very much a mind-over-matter guy, for better or for worse, in that my brain can quite effectively talk me into quitting something, so sometimes there is no other type of music to keep me going but the likes of Phil Anselmo scowling and yelling at me, reminding me that “no one can piss on this determination.”

I thought for sure that I was the indie rocker type for good, and that metal was all but in the past. As it turns out, in the right situation, something like the drum fills on “Seasons in the Abyss” by Slayer can still move me in any way I thought was no longer possible. When someone hates all heavy music, there is still that little part of me, perhaps that dormant teen angst in me from all those years ago, which says to myself, “What a pussy!” One has to admit that it’s true that people either like that sludgy, distortion, drop-D sound or they don’t, and it’s sort of an exclusive club for those of us who get it. Indeed, when I get a few “pops” in me, there are still times when I’m all about old school Metallica, and even tanked, I can unearth just about every one of the lyrics from the first four classic discs. And I kind of feel a kinship to anyone who knows exactly what I’m talking about.

Sure, if you asked me my favorite bands, I’d likely tell you Pink Floyd, Built To Spill, and Grandaddy, but I will forever be in debt to Megadeth, Testament, and especially Metallica, for saving me from offing myself, or making me want to do it; I still don’t recall which.