Friday, February 04, 2005

Glory Days

Quote of the Day: "We'll worry about tomarrow tomarrow. That's what we said yesterday." Leo~ The West Wing

CD of the Day: None! Wanna know why? Because my frelling CD player broke. *grrr*

Mood: See above

Date: 2/4/05

It is friday... again. There can never be too many fridays. That means I have two whole days to do absolutely NOTHING... and I cherish those times.
Today, I was waiting at the drive thru to pick up lunch for me and a few co-workers and on the radio is Queensryche's 'Operation Mindcrime' from the good ol' days of 80s metal.
Hot damn! I was sitting there and I could not believe I forgot just how much they kicked ass. The music, the concept, Geoff Tate's voice.... ohhh. That man is a vocal God. I could listen to him read the phone book or a dictionary and I would be put in a state of orgasmic joy... which would distract him of course. (Or at least I hope so.)
When I first heard Disturbed on the radio a few years back, I thought it was Queensryche. In fact, that was one of the reasons I bought their album. (And when I say 'album', I mean CD.) The other reason was they kicked ass at Oz Fest; but David Draiman is one seriously damaged man. He needs a hug I think.
Back to 80s metal... Although hearing Queensryche made me want to hear more, sadly there are a lot of bands that have the complete opposite reaction when I hear their songs again. Motley Crue is one such band. I was a fan of theirs, for about a year... before I heard Master of Puppets. Now, the only song I can stand to hear again is 'Jumpstart My Heart.' The rest, trash. The only good thing about them is the fact that they helped turn an ex-boyfriend of mine on to me. Thanks Vince and gang... you did me a favor. :D
I did see them in concert though. 1986 or 87 I think. I over dressed. It was my first concert and we all had delusions that they looked like they did on MTV. I wore tight acid wash jeans and this pink shirt with puffy shoulders and the back was just lace, and pink heels. I kid you not. Pink heels. It was awful. Thank god there are no pictures.
I went with my best friend, who looked worse then I did, my sister, her best friend, and her best friends younger brother. (Kinda sounds like the premise to an 80s movie... the only thing missing would be us getting stranded somewhere creepy and aliens or goblins attacking.) Our seats were in the farthest corner from the stage way up top with a pole in the way. It was so disappointing. It could have been the Bee Gees up on stage and I wouldn't have known the difference. And it was hot. I was sweating so much that my electric blue mascara ran and I had to use the T-shirt I paid way to much money for as a towel.
There is nothing about the concert itself that I actually recall though. Just the disappointing seats, bad bad cloths, and my best friend pestering me to go with her to get a drink and we missed the indoor fireworks. I am thinking now that a night battling creatures from the underworld would have been better...
Other bands that made their 'mark' in the 80s also make me want to cringe... and wonder just what the hell I was thinking when I thought that crap was good. I guess it was better then the alternative, which was a pair of teen sensations: Tiffany, and the blonde girl. (What the hell was her name anyhow?) The funny thing with those two was that there were Tiffany camps and Blonde girl camps. Sure, Tiffany's songs were easier to dance too, but the Blonde girl wrote her own stuff. Whatever.
I think that my first stop on the way home is to pick up a few CDS... 'Operation Mind criiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiime....We're an underground revolution, working overtime,,,' Oh Yeah!


trinamick said...

Debbie Gibson, perhaps?

Saw Warrant & Firehouse in concert last summer. The lead singer for Firehouse DEFINITELY had a roll of quarters in his pocket. I was front row, and I nearly lost an eye.

NYPinTA said...

Debbie Gibson! Right.
Where was Simon Cowle when we needed him...?

Firehouse? Didnt' they do that song 'When I See You Smile'? Cuz now I have it stuck in my head.