2007-01-05

I just wasn't made for these times...

As many of you know, I hate a lot of things. Water chestnuts. The word "blog." People who eschew things like capitalization and grammar cuz its teh internets. Sting.

Because I do realize that I'm a misanthropic curmudgeon about 90% of the time, I try to make daily lists of things that I actually like and appreciate, lest I wind up living alone with 72 cats and a collection of "Precious Moments" figurines. I like kimchee. I like the smell of old books. And I like The Beach Boys.

As a kid, I was quite taken with them, and would pester the oldies station to play "Barbara Ann" every 3 or 4 days. As I got older, and progressively snottier, I was drawn to dirgier stuff that I felt better represented the blackness of my soul (sob!). The Beach Boys were a bunch of fuckin' clowns in floral prints who showed up with The Fat Boys in what was arguably the worst video of the 80's. You couldn't pay me to listen to The Beach Boys.

Until one sultry Central Florida evening in the very early 90's, as I lolled on my pal John's sofa in his dilapidated moss-covered bungalow several yards away from my own dilapidated, moss-covered bungalow. We'd been smoking the reefer and listening to the alternative music, when John all of a sudden announced that he wanted to listen to The Beach Boys. I sputtered in protest. John was genuinely surprised, and looked at me with infinite pity as he said, "But, Lees....The Beach Boys are awesome."

Sheer outrage propelled each word from the back of my throat: "Thuh...BEACH...BOYS?! Fuuuuuuuuck yeeeeeeeeeeeew, John. Fuck. You. John."

John was patient and kind as he put on "Pet Sounds" and prepared to teach me the error of my alternaways. And you know - I didn't hate it. Of course, I had also been smoking a lot of pot, and couldn't quite trust my judgement. Because the reefer makes you do crazy things. It makes you think that eating a party-sized bag of Doritos and washing it down with a quart of chocolate milk is a really good idea. It makes you think that Jane's Addiction is a really good band.

(You'd be surprised by how much of what you thought was brilliant while in an altered state actually really SUCKS in the 600-watt bulb of sobriety.)

So I listened to "Pet Sounds" again, completely straight, a few days after my first exposure at John's. I loved it, and was immediately deeply, deeply conflicted. For some reason, it didn't occur to me that if JOHN liked The Beach Boys, then that was a fairly accurate barometer of "coolness." I had to keep it a secret, and I did just that for several years, until I fell in with the people who would become my best friends. Even now, I suspect that I'm preaching to the converted as I type this. That "Pet Sounds" is one of the greatest albums ever recorded is not a startling revelation to most of you, and at least half of y'all were hip to this particular nugget while I was still moping around listening to The Smiths and not much else.

I am still conflicted in some respects. Mike Love is the biggest douchebag in rock-n-roll, and yet I must accept his douchebaggery as part of the whole. But I listen to Brian Wilson's plaintive, lonely vocal on "I Just Wasn't Made For These Times" and I think, is there anything more heartbreaking than that?

(And yes, I have heard that Barenaked Ladies song about Brian Wilson. I hate the Barenaked Ladies.)

lisamcc at 9:58 p.m.

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