So the other day, (yesterday for those of you all wrapped up in the whole chronology thing) I called a good friend of mine who I hadn’t talked to in awhile. When he heard it was me he started laughing, (never a great sign, but you get used to these things) and asked if I had a tape player. I don’t, but he brought one over when he stopped by later and, having explained nothing of what was going to occur, proceeded to play a relic of the appalling past.

When we were a younger men, we were bitten by the rock n’ roll bug and actually wrote and rehearsed a number of songs which were recorded in a basement where the furniture, carpet and walls had been painted with laundry detergent so that they would glow under the black-light. Yes, I listened to one of those tapes. I was actually surprised, it wasn’t as dreadful as I had feared, understand of course that it was dreadful, but we had a few tunes that could have been decent by now if we’d been practicing them everyday since the time of the recording.

The best part was all the little snippets of conversations where we earnestly discussed such pressing issues as song-titles and band-names, and of course just how hard we rocked. I don’t know if there is anything as joyous as being able to laugh at yourself.

That tape is, of course, going to be transferred to a CD pretty soon. Hopefully it will survive and be able to rest safely for another good chunk of years to await another evening where the beauty of chronic humiliation is called for.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, February 15th, 2006 at 10:22 pm and is filed under indiscriminate. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.