I'm All Squiered up
October 5, 2009 Monday 12:16:45 AM 75°
In Mythology we’re given a myth to read for each class, and a subject to write two paragraphs about from that myth. Since I’m no good at looking beyond the narrative, I pad my stuff with a stream of wisecracks, bad jokes, and 20+ year-old obscure pop culture references. I always get full credit for what I write, but I think she’s just looking to see that you read it. Even if I do quote Mel Brooks sometimes. So, really, I’m thinking I get credit even if it barely applies. She groans, writes “20/20,” and moves on to the next paper written by someone who has a lifelong interest and vast knowledge of mythology.
Well, on Wednesday she was giving back our stuff. When she gave me paper, she said, “I always enjoy reading yours.” Cool!
This is an example of what I turn in twice a week. In this myth we were to write about the lesson of respect it teaches...
Eric Paul Johnson
Mythology I
“Horse With No Respect”
Mikoto has no respect for his sister, Amaterasu. He trashes her rice fields, overstays his welcome, puts a hole in her roof, and, apparently inspired by Animal House, drops a horse in the room with her, scaring the bejeebus out of her. Mikoto’s snottiness causes Amaterasu to hide away in a cave. And without her, there was no light, but she’s convinced to come out. Light and happiness returns to the globe, and Mikoto pays for his total rudeness.
Looks like I’m going to regurgitate what my first reading assignment was about. But this time it applies to the subject! [I misinterpreted what we were supposed to do with these assignments, and on the first one I wrote about the whole myth, not the one part of it to write about. Still got full credit on it.] Be nice and respect people and their property, and things will be fine. You won’t get maimed and sent to hell. Although, that might be an extreme case of paying for being disrespectful. Now I desperately have to respect my eyelids and my pillow.
I learned decades ago that people cut you some slack if you can make them giggle.
And that Wednesday night I saw Billy Squier in concert.
Leesa works at the Celebrity Theatre and can get free tickets to shows that don’t sell out. She asked Cait if she wanted to see Billy Squier. Cait said hell yes, and asked if I wanted to go. I had no homework due Thursday, I like Cait, Leesa, and Billy Squier, so I said yes to a free concert.
Cait picked me up and we went to the theatre. I brought the sleeve for the “Rock Me Tonite” single in case there was some autograph thing afterwards. Cait said something along the lines of, “I’m sure he’ll be happy to sign the record that killed his career.” Hadn’t thought of that, but it was the only autographable thing of Billy’s I had.
Cait told me she wouldn’t see a concert by a partial old band. Like Styx without Dennis Deyoung, or Journey without Steve Perry. Which was weeeeeeeeerd, cuz two weeks earlier I had a dream that Rich got us tickets for Journey. Me, Kat, and Cait really didn’t want to go because it was Journey without Steve Perry.
Got there, picked up tickets. Kinda funny to see all the 30-40 year-old Rocker chicks who would know exactly where the smoke hole in high school was. We waited for Leesa in the club. She showed up, there were hugs, Leesa got food, and we sat and talked for a bit. Then went to our seats. Leesa was sitting in a better row than us, but me and Cait had good seats. Front row, section B. Nobody to sit in front of us. Actually, I think there were more people at the junior high dances I heard Billy’s songs at, than were at this concert.
Show started, Billy came out, started playing “Lonely is the Night.”
Everybody stood up. I thought standing through a concert was a stupid mid-80s thing. Then I remembered what kind of crowd Billy is going to attract. People who were in junior high and high school in the early-mid ‘80s. I didn’t stand. I’m not a stander. Fortunately most people sat after the first song. There was one guy a few rows down from us who really dug the Rock concert experience. He was tall, lanky, had long stringy hair, and a baseball cap. His legs spread, bent at the knee a bit, bouncing to the music, bobbing his head, shaking his fist, and sometimes both fists in the air to the music. Sometimes I couldn’t help but watch him over Billy. He was just that entertaining.
Billy played the hits, a few album tracks. He played my favoritist of his songs, “My Kind Of Lover.”
I’m not much for the harder Rock, but I’ve always liked Billy Squier. He made his hard rock poppy enough to have a melody to it instead of a stream of distortion and garbled screaming. Could’ve done with less 45 minute guitar solos. But I’ve never been a fan of the extended guitar solo. I understand, considering his limited discography of stuff people have heard, he has to pad the show out. However, does the world need a 15+ minute version of “The Stroke?” Complete with Frampton-type wah-wah diddling on the guitar before the song’s familiar drums kicked in. Ugh, and I was tempted shout “FINISH IT ALREADY!!!!” when he did that Rock thing of repeating the closing line and the audience repeating it back, went on a little too long.
Still, though, it was a good show. Especially for the price we paid.
Me and Cait waited in the club for Leesa, but she must’ve went home, cuz we didn’t see her. Hung around a bit in case Billy came into the club. The guitar player came out, but if Billy came out he did it after the two of us left.
There me and Cait were. Sitting in the bar at Celebrity Theatre, after a Billy Squier concert while Led Zeppelin played on the radio. Never in a billion years would’ve predicted that scene.
Cait groaned when the guy on the radio, giving away free Led Zeppelin albums through iTunes, said it was “Zeptember.” I couldn’t help but roll my eyes, too. “That joke belongs in the Zep-tic tank,” Cait said. See, now THAT’S funny!
So, anyway, I’ve always like Billy. Not a rabid fan, but I enjoyed the show, and had a swell night with Cait and Leesa.
In Mythology we’re given a myth to read for each class, and a subject to write two paragraphs about from that myth. Since I’m no good at looking beyond the narrative, I pad my stuff with a stream of wisecracks, bad jokes, and 20+ year-old obscure pop culture references. I always get full credit for what I write, but I think she’s just looking to see that you read it. Even if I do quote Mel Brooks sometimes. So, really, I’m thinking I get credit even if it barely applies. She groans, writes “20/20,” and moves on to the next paper written by someone who has a lifelong interest and vast knowledge of mythology.
Well, on Wednesday she was giving back our stuff. When she gave me paper, she said, “I always enjoy reading yours.” Cool!
This is an example of what I turn in twice a week. In this myth we were to write about the lesson of respect it teaches...
Eric Paul Johnson
Mythology I
“Horse With No Respect”
Mikoto has no respect for his sister, Amaterasu. He trashes her rice fields, overstays his welcome, puts a hole in her roof, and, apparently inspired by Animal House, drops a horse in the room with her, scaring the bejeebus out of her. Mikoto’s snottiness causes Amaterasu to hide away in a cave. And without her, there was no light, but she’s convinced to come out. Light and happiness returns to the globe, and Mikoto pays for his total rudeness.
Looks like I’m going to regurgitate what my first reading assignment was about. But this time it applies to the subject! [I misinterpreted what we were supposed to do with these assignments, and on the first one I wrote about the whole myth, not the one part of it to write about. Still got full credit on it.] Be nice and respect people and their property, and things will be fine. You won’t get maimed and sent to hell. Although, that might be an extreme case of paying for being disrespectful. Now I desperately have to respect my eyelids and my pillow.
I learned decades ago that people cut you some slack if you can make them giggle.
And that Wednesday night I saw Billy Squier in concert.
Leesa works at the Celebrity Theatre and can get free tickets to shows that don’t sell out. She asked Cait if she wanted to see Billy Squier. Cait said hell yes, and asked if I wanted to go. I had no homework due Thursday, I like Cait, Leesa, and Billy Squier, so I said yes to a free concert.
Cait picked me up and we went to the theatre. I brought the sleeve for the “Rock Me Tonite” single in case there was some autograph thing afterwards. Cait said something along the lines of, “I’m sure he’ll be happy to sign the record that killed his career.” Hadn’t thought of that, but it was the only autographable thing of Billy’s I had.
Cait told me she wouldn’t see a concert by a partial old band. Like Styx without Dennis Deyoung, or Journey without Steve Perry. Which was weeeeeeeeerd, cuz two weeks earlier I had a dream that Rich got us tickets for Journey. Me, Kat, and Cait really didn’t want to go because it was Journey without Steve Perry.
Got there, picked up tickets. Kinda funny to see all the 30-40 year-old Rocker chicks who would know exactly where the smoke hole in high school was. We waited for Leesa in the club. She showed up, there were hugs, Leesa got food, and we sat and talked for a bit. Then went to our seats. Leesa was sitting in a better row than us, but me and Cait had good seats. Front row, section B. Nobody to sit in front of us. Actually, I think there were more people at the junior high dances I heard Billy’s songs at, than were at this concert.
Show started, Billy came out, started playing “Lonely is the Night.”
Click to viewEverybody stood up. I thought standing through a concert was a stupid mid-80s thing. Then I remembered what kind of crowd Billy is going to attract. People who were in junior high and high school in the early-mid ‘80s. I didn’t stand. I’m not a stander. Fortunately most people sat after the first song. There was one guy a few rows down from us who really dug the Rock concert experience. He was tall, lanky, had long stringy hair, and a baseball cap. His legs spread, bent at the knee a bit, bouncing to the music, bobbing his head, shaking his fist, and sometimes both fists in the air to the music. Sometimes I couldn’t help but watch him over Billy. He was just that entertaining.
Billy played the hits, a few album tracks. He played my favoritist of his songs, “My Kind Of Lover.”
I’m not much for the harder Rock, but I’ve always liked Billy Squier. He made his hard rock poppy enough to have a melody to it instead of a stream of distortion and garbled screaming. Could’ve done with less 45 minute guitar solos. But I’ve never been a fan of the extended guitar solo. I understand, considering his limited discography of stuff people have heard, he has to pad the show out. However, does the world need a 15+ minute version of “The Stroke?” Complete with Frampton-type wah-wah diddling on the guitar before the song’s familiar drums kicked in. Ugh, and I was tempted shout “FINISH IT ALREADY!!!!” when he did that Rock thing of repeating the closing line and the audience repeating it back, went on a little too long.
Still, though, it was a good show. Especially for the price we paid.
Me and Cait waited in the club for Leesa, but she must’ve went home, cuz we didn’t see her. Hung around a bit in case Billy came into the club. The guitar player came out, but if Billy came out he did it after the two of us left.
There me and Cait were. Sitting in the bar at Celebrity Theatre, after a Billy Squier concert while Led Zeppelin played on the radio. Never in a billion years would’ve predicted that scene.
Cait groaned when the guy on the radio, giving away free Led Zeppelin albums through iTunes, said it was “Zeptember.” I couldn’t help but roll my eyes, too. “That joke belongs in the Zep-tic tank,” Cait said. See, now THAT’S funny!
So, anyway, I’ve always like Billy. Not a rabid fan, but I enjoyed the show, and had a swell night with Cait and Leesa.