GARAGE SALE

My musical coming of age knew no older siblings, no church-going folk, and no roving beer-guzzling events besides the dude downstairs. Still don't really know/care who/what/when a Black Sabbath is. I first heard them via Japanese cover. It was a Japanese man who gave me my first taste of Zepplin, Motorhead and his beloved Type-O Negative. Sure, I knew what an 80's metal band sounded like. I saw the "Wayne's World" movie. Still, I feel like I don't know what I'm missing when I flip on my Ipod and listen to ANTHEM scream.

M'friends, I've found my own personal Yoda.

Really, all teachers should be scary ex rock stars/lounge divas or at least make a convincing act. A rebel at 40. Scarred, gritty and allergic to everything except cocaine (or so he claims). My coworker in bygone days once fronted a fantastically unfamous rock band. He even showed me his poster. His 20 minutes of slippery fame have left him with rage against the dying of the spotlight and legends to tell over coffee. He was in the pit of Japan's first realized underground, screaming along in customary ripped midriff and bandanna. He knew the MODS, flailed to the PEES and worshipped at the shrine of RC Succession. When he asks what music I like in class, he makes happy faces if I cite his band. They truly are fantastically bad but I couldn't ever tell him that.

OMG! Tee-hee! We both think Elephant Kashimashi and the Red Hot Chili Peppers should marry and have a lovechild named PHREK. He lives in Japan and knows you can't eat Cibo Matto. He likes Bon Jovi under very specific circumstances. He knows precisely when to make the sign of the devil. He thinks Mr. Children is for kids.

He is the Nancy to my Sid!

How sad I will be leaving him soon.