I was exposed to a pretty liberal music selection growing up. My parents listened to classic rock mostly and 60's style Rhythm and Blues; my oldest sister listened to Pop; my brother listened to rap and hip hop; my other sister listened to indie rock. As such, I listened to pretty much anything that was catchy. I believe I bought my first album when I was four years old. It was "Full Moon Fever" by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. It was a great album. My second album, like many kids my age, was Weird Al Yankovic's "Bad Hair Day." It was a great album. My third album, and the one that struck the best chord with me, was The Presidents of the United States of America's "II."
I loved this album. To this day I could recite every word of it and karaoke your brains out. It contained the hit singles "Volcano" and "Mach 5" as well as personal favorites "Toob Amplifier" and "Twig." I think a lot of people have an album like this; maybe it was "Hit me Baby One More Time," or "Waterfalls," or "I Just Called to Say I Love You." The defining trait of this was that this was the moment you knew you loved music, and this was the album that defined you. Some kids are blessed enough to have this album come to them when they're 3 or 4 years old; those kids probably grew up to be musicians, especially if it was a Hendrix or Al Green album. This is the album you listened to endlessly until your parents caved and bought you a pair of headphones, at which point you simply sat next to the stereo listening until your ears bled. And as such did my ears bleed.
I loved it. I listened to it off this old stereo my Grandpa had given me from the stone age, but somehow still had stereo sound and a bass system that could blow the cat down off the second story balcony (true story: it once did.) I shared a room with my brother at the time, so what time I had that he didn't want the stereo to himself I treasured. I'd sit there and listen, staring off into space wondering how such angelic chords could be discovered by mortals. I had the album on tape, so after each play, I'd have to flip the tape over in order to listen to the rest of it. I remember years later I found a copy of the album, but I couldn't name off which songs I liked, because I never learned the names of the songs. I didn't have iTunes to tell me what song I was listening to; I just knew track 5 was the bomb. One fateful day, though tragedy struck.
I was listening to the album for the 718293313rd time, when all of a sudden, the pace picked up. "I will survive, in my machfive, INMYMACHFIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE" POOF. Mid chorus, the tape had exploded. I guess the wear and tear the old stereo had caused on the flimsy tape film had finally become too much, and I slammed down the stop/eject button a moment too late. All I found was a garbled mess of film that, even when rewound back in, wouldn't play. I was heartbroken; crestfallen. I remember going to school the next day as one sad panda. I confided in my friend, Daniel Ferrera, that my tape had been eaten and barfed back up to me in a state befitting the verb. Daniel, though, was a good friend. He lived literally right next to school, so he sprinted home, obtained his copy of The Presidents' self titled album, and handed it to me with no hesitation. He told me he wanted me to stop being sad, and that this would help. I told him I appreciated the gesture, but nothing could console the sadness that remained in the black void where my heart once sat. Nothing.
Except this. I listened to it when I got home, got hooked, and was totally fine the next day. This just goes to show you folks; sometimes when kids are depressed, their just inconvenienced. Shout outs to Daniel for knowing exactly what I needed, and shout outs to POTUSA for giving me the inspiration to go on with life.
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