A song left a very strong impression on me. I went to my friend’s house. His older brother was a few years older than us. I was about 10 or so.
His brother was having a band rehearsal in their garage and it was open to the neighborhood. It was a warm summer evening.
we all lived on a hillside above the bay. There were killer bmx tracks on the surrounding hills and we would get motorcycle helmets and life jackets and have BB gun wars. The magic of youth was in full swing.
The wind was blowing off the bay and his girlfriend and a couple of her friends were dressed in very short cut off jeans, and tank tops cut very high up. The wind was whipping their tank tops up and their hair was blowing in the wind and it looked like an MTV video.
Earlier we were in his brothers room and he had smoked a ton of weed and there was a thick cloud of smoke so I was mildly high for the first time.
I was solely focused on the girls until they started playing mean streets, his brother expertly played the intro. before that they were playing something that didn’t even make a dent on my radar, it was just background noise, but mean streets, whoa, between the song and the girls, it quickly coalesced into something that triggered a deep visceral reaction in my young mind, I thought to myself, “THIS! This is what I want!! All of it!!!!”
His brother instantly became the coolest guy I’d ever seen as he ripped through mean street near perfect. His girlfriend and her friends clearly worshipped at the altar of his brother and the way they looked at him and moved their hips as their braless boobs bounced freely, I wanted them to look at me that way.
II managed to get a guitar and I furiously practiced nonstop. I could not get enough and even practicing was enthralling. The rockers at school didn’t let me join their ranks because I was also super into sports and they said sports were for losers. I briefly considered giving up sports but they were too fun at the time and I couldn’t do it.
But, I had all access to my friends brother and I badgered him incessantly to teach me songs. He would tell us what girlfriend (he was always juggling many beautiful girlfriends) was coming over that night and let us hide in the closet and watch. We sat in there and triumphantly congratulated one another as if we were the ones getting lucky. His parents took us to Day on the Green a couple times and it was glorious.
His brother eventually gave up on music and is sadly a member of the tan pants army on gear page. He is a lawyer and collects valuable guitars and hangs them on the wall and doesn’t even play them. He is merely a collector. Let’s all say a prayer for a fallen guitarist, as he further descends into the tan pants coalition and his level of bozodom increases. Mr. tan pants man, I salute you for introducing me to VH, guitar and beautiful women.
