"If it ain't frick'n broke,
don't frick'n fix it."
-- Gustavus Adolphus Grimstone
Iknew
they'd be calling, I just frick'n knew it.
Sure, I was pissed when those bastards at Rough Fish passed me over for the cush Monday Mud writing gig but I got over it after a 3 day binge of Rock 'em Sock 'em Robots. Seems like a good way to blow off some steam and nobody gets hurt, except of course this time I still was so ticked I ended up punching some'a those Rough Fish bastards in the frick'n bread basket anyway.
So who do they call when that frick'n mint julep Swanson needs to take a week off due to stress? Good ol' frick'n Gus, that's who. Yeah I been readin' his stuff for the past three months and it ain't my cup of meat, I can tell yuh that. To tell yuh the truth, I can't even follow it half the time and my Commodore 64 won't even load the frick'n graphics. So while ol' Gather T. is away at his PeterPan-Syndrome Awareness Retreat, ol Gus'll be remindin' the readers how a column should be written, that frick'n "wink-wink, nudge-nudge" subtlety don't work on the frick'n internet. You gotta reach out from the monitor, grab yer reader by the nostrils with a crow bar and pull 'em on in.
If I hear one more beef about road rage, I think I'm gonna go ballistic. Let's just look at the facts here: there's "x" amount of driving surface area in the metro (I'm talkin' concrete, asphalt, gravel, my neighbor's lawn, whatever); then there's the square footage of the vehicles "y" driving on "x"; and the final factor is "t" which represents the time of the average rush hour which actually equals about 87 minutes ... well screw the Einstein bullshit, if you see a rusty El Camino ridin' yer ass on 394 you'd best pull over to the frick'n shoulder 'cos one of us is gonna punch the clock on time and one of us ain't.
The one thing that Gather T. was right about was the frick'n 10-disc changer being a commuter's necessity but I don't stock mine with that esoteric bullshit music. A good road rage run requires a careful selection of ass kickin' rock & roll. I ain't talkin' about the Archers of Loaf kind'a crap neither, not only do you need that driving "four-on-the-floor" beat but it's gotta be shit you've heard a million times or it just ain't music. Like that dork on the Cities 97 commercial sez:
"Then I'm like ... I like this song, then they play the next song and I'm like 'hey, I like this song too!"
Personally, I think the guy's a little light in the frick'n loafers but he speaks the truth. What good does it do ya to hear a song you've never heard before? And I sure as shit ain't gonna listen to any frick'n Vic Chesnutt where he's whining about "exquisite onion soup" or lamenting about the existence of the Great Shift Supervisor in the Sky. You won't find any "English-major" rock in my changer, just quality shit. Here's my recommended Road Rage Special, grab a notebook, I'm only tellin' ya once ... oh yeah, this is the frick'n internet, you can call up my mug anytime you want and hit "print". (Hey Chuck, I'll bet with that frick'n AOL 4.0 you can print faster'n squat ... sorry folks, had to throw in one frick'n inside joke!)
KISS Double Platinum: I'll betch 'ya thought I was gonna pick KISS Alive! but shit, who can afford that? Gus don't buy double CDs, that's for rich bastards only. Besides, then you'd miss my personal anthem "Calling Dr. Love." Not only is that the ultimate jam for bumper-ridin' but a guy's gotta keep a little romance music around to put his lil' lady in the mood when he comes home with a 6-pack of Champale and a fistful of dandelions. Plus we used the song at our wedding so it'll always have that special meaning. Heh, I'll never forget how impressed our guests were when my buddy cranked that one out on his Hondo electric through a Peavey Bandit in the frick'n chapel. In a way, I think that single moment helped establish the relationship I have with my in-laws to this day, they stay out of my frick'n face, I stay out of theirs. The only song I don't like on the CD is that wimpy ballad "Beth" it's a wonder these guys ever made it as a band if they was so worried about what their wives thought of them practicing so much.
AC/DC The Razor's Edge: Actually I don't like this one as much as Highway to Hell but it's got some good memories for me and I've always been somewhat of a frick'n romantic. I bought it at the Cash & Pawn on University Ave. for 3 bucks and it's no secret that pawn shop customers have the best taste in music so that's where I pick up most of my tuneage. This particular one had an added bonus, turns out the guy left a nice Polaroid of his girlfriend in the CD booklet and it has always touched me in some way. One of my biggest pet frick'n peeves has always been those bastards who are reading the paper while waiting in the metered lane. I usually notice them as I smoke by them on the shoulder, I always like to kick up a little extra gravel on them by gunning the old 454 when I go by. Sometimes I get stuck in the lineup too if I see the cops bustin' those suckers using the carpool lane but ridin' solo (it's fun to remind them how many more passengers they needed when you cruise by, I just hold up one finger) and after a few high speed chases I'm playin' it a little safer now. Hey, I ain't as young as I used to be! Anyway, it's a long wait in those lines so sometimes I just whip it out (the Polaroid) and gaze at it for a bit while I crank the tunez. So if you see the El Camino a rockin' don't come a frick'n knockin'!
BTO's Greatest Hits: I try to stick with the "greatest hits" for the most part, otherwise you get into that situation called "deep frick'n tracks." If I hear a station playing something from Sticky Fingers and it ain't Brown Sugar you can bet the Program Director is gonna find a flaming bag of something on his doorstep, and it ain't gonna be full'a brown sugar! Somehow BTO captured the rhythmic pulse of the average white guy better than any other rock band in the frick'n history of rock & roll. If your clenched fists, concrete hips and steel-toed dancing boots can't lock-in to the beat of "Takin' Care of Business" then I suggest you get yer honky ass off the dance floor cause Gus is ready to hoof and he needs room to move! Another cool thing about BTO is that they were always fat and I needn't remind you how you might as well subtitle a BTO concert as "Ladies Night" cos you know how much the hot chicks dig old, overweight rock stars!
Eddie Money's Greatest Hits: This EP is one of my all time favorites, and if you don't mind me gettin' a little editorial here, well, here goes. Hundreds of years from now, when all the dust has settled and music biz crony-izm has become ancient history, people will look back and realize that the King of Rock & Roll ain't Elvis, Chuck, Keith, Bruce or Melissa but our old friend Edward Mahoney. I wrote a whole article about the very subject but Rolling Stone, Spin & The Catch O' the Day all passed on it. Sometimes the truth frick'n hurts, don't kill me, I'm just the frick'n messenger.
Have a Nice Day, Volume #137 (Rhino Records): It pisses me off that Rhino skimps on tracks but milks the greatest music of our times into so many frick'n volumes. Luckily, Volume #137 contains 2 of the best tracks that make it worth the purchase. When I listen to the heart wrenching lyrics of "Billy Don't Be a Hero" it reminds me of what the hits of today are missing: good songwriting, pure & frick'n simple! The other track is "The Night Chicago Died", if yuh see an El Camino doin' 85 MPH through rush hour traffic with the subwoofer a thumpin', you can bet it's old Gus, that song always gets me wound up!
The Best of The 6 Fat Dutchmen: Thank God this polka classic finally came out on CD! The vinyl copy that'd been handed down from my old man who got it from his old man is in pretty rough shape. I can't remember a Grimstone family get-together where we weren't blasting the Dutchmen full blast and doin' Hamm's beer bongs. Contains the original uncut versions of "Just Too Old to Cut the Mustard" and "What Do They Do in Minnesota?" Just like a BTO concert, same thing applies to a Dutchmen gig, biggest bunch'a babe magnets in the industry.
Lynyrd Skynyrd Skynyrd's Innards: Need I frickin' elaborate? These are the songs that are behind most road-rage occurrences, they just bring out the man in all of us, even if yer a broad. The other day I was headin' up 35W and it was nothing but a wall of cars, even ol' Gus couldn't plow through this mess so I bailed out on a county road exit, figured I could smoke through some residential areas at 85 MPH and, provided I didn't hit no pedestrians, I could hop back onto 35Dub in a few miles and barely be off schedule. One thing I didn't count on though ... a frick'n freight train! Here comes the ol' Wisconsin Central with a shitload of box cars in tow, I'm about 3 blocks from the crossing and there's a lineup of wimps ahead of me who think the flashing reds mean "STOP"! Shit, in my book, the flashing lights are merely a frick'n suggestion, you don't stop until the freight is clearing the crossing!
Just to get ready for my next maneuver I put on "Gimme Three Steps" and crank the shit out of it. Sure, the lyrics don't match up to the situation but with Skynyrd you only get a few subjects, playin' in a band, getting wasted, bar room brawlin' and casual sex with anonymous groupies. It's little wonder that we all idolize those guys. Like Gus Sr. always told me "Little Gus, whiskey must be made out of ***** & boxing gloves 'cos when I drink it, all I feel like doing is ******* & fighting!"
And need I mention Freebird? Another anthem for regular guys like me. That was another one my buddy played on his Hondo at my wedding, the preacher tried talking me out of it because he said something about the lyrics not fitting into the wedding theme. Sure it added some time to the ceremony but, shit, the way I figure it, a guy only gets married a few times in his life so why not make the ceremony special. I slipped my buddy a ten-spot and told him to sneak in an extra guitar solo.
You've probably heard someone yell out "Freebird" at club gigs and concerts. Well, the voice you've probably heard is "your's truly" and if it ain't, then it's somebody who admires my work and is just a pale imitator. Trouble is, they're doing it to be funny while I'm dead frick'n serious. The last thing I wanna hear by some band doing original material is their original material! It usually sucks cos I ain't never heard none of it before and I'm just tryin' to help 'em out by suggesting a song I know everybody wants to hear. Just like Ronnie sez, "What song do yuh wanna hear?"
Oh yeah, so I got Gimme Three Steps crankin' and I'm blarin' my horn and ridin' bumpers trying to encourage people to risk their lives so I can get to work on time. I get most of 'em through but there's a GEO Metro with a rainbow sticker that comes to a complete stop before the gates come down. Them gates ain't so strong, nothing a GEO Metro can't plow right through provided there's an El Camino with a 454 V-8 pushin' on its frick'n rear bumper! Yeah, we both made it across, it was kind of a close call, the freight missed me by about 3 steps.
James Taylor's Greatest Hits: I just like to listen to Taylor say the "f word" on the live version of Steamroller Blues, the rest of it sucks.
Ted Nugent "Ted Nugent": A good road rage scene wouldn't be complete with out a little help from the Motor City Madman, The Nuge, El Nugerinzky and, though it ain't a greatest hits record, I've heard most of the songs on the radio so I let it run until it gets to Queen of the Forest. Stranglehold brings back a few memories from the wedding too; my buddy got most of the chords right but during the middle interlude he was getting all confused cos he was stoned out his mind (too much Everclear & Angel Dust at the groom's breakfast I guess). After about 5 minutes of experimental feedback (thanks to a trusty Big Muff distortion box) he locked back into the groove and we continued with the ceremony. I dedicated the song to my new Mother-in-Law and told her to think about the words everytime she thought about dropping in on us "unannounced".
Freedom Rock: This is the perfect frick'n finale, a chance to scoop up the rest of those classic rock tunez without having to shell out too much moola. I mean, that Judas Priest guy's a frick'n genius but he's only got 2 good songs, so why listen to the rest of the crap that wasn't good enough to get on the radio? Same thing goes for that frick'n Thin Lizzy (what a stupid name for a guy) and Jethro Tull (I ain't too crazy about Jethro's goddamn skin flute playin' but anybody that sings about snot running down a nose is a true poet in my frick'n book).
Hey, they told me to just write about 1,500 words and I'm close to 2,500. Looks like the bastards at Rough Fish owe me time-an-a-half!
Maybe we'll see yuh back here again sometime. Who knows, maybe Swanson'll be the unfortunate victim of a road rage incident and I'll be back full-time!
Don't take any frick'n shit this week okay?
G.A.G.
Hey! Now We Have Archives!
02/15/99 Orientation
02/22/99 Smoke on the Water, Billy Ocean &
EBay
03/01/99 Dream Weavin', Sgt Snorkel's Secret
Code, Ruby Tuesday's
03/08/99 Styrofoam Circles, Exchanging Coffee
At Lunds, Somewhere on the East Coast
03/15/99 The Never Ending Story Part 1, Corrections
and Influences
03/22/99 The Never Ending Story "Part
Deux"
03/29/99 Summer Movie Preview Contest
04/05/99 "Hey, It's a Cult!", Amateur
Theology, An Unused Cartoon From the Early 80's, Contest Answer
04/12/99 Reverting to Old Ways, Going Off on
Commercials, The Masters Tournament
04/19/99 Special Piece of Crap Issue: Life
During Wartime, It's a Gas! Dock-umentary Preview
04/26/99 Previous Issue Apology, No More Horny
Hillbillies for Prez, Aging Rock Stars, MP3 Files
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