The summer of 2002, I had just moved back to Connecticut, a broke-ass woman looking to rebuild my life. I had moved in with my mother (TEMPORARILY, I made sure everybody knew) until I had enough money to move back to New York City.
Three things saved my sanity that summer. My brother was also living at home, and he is one of the coolest people on the planet, I auditioned for the local community theater production of "Jesus Christ Superstar", AND my mother's house was less than 10 minutes away from my best friend Mothra's house.
When rehearsals began I would get into these combative debates with Annas about music. Annas was in a band with M____, a guitar virtuoso playing in the pit. M____'s brother was playing Jesus, but Jesus was a jam-band kind of a guy. M______ was more straight ahead Norwegian Death Metal, while Annas liked some prog rock and Anna's brother, Awesome Disciple liked a lot of everything. What we all liked was Tenacious D, and we'd run around singing Tenacious D lyrics to each other, or M___ would break into "Kyle Quit The Band" much to our abject joy.
My brother also liked Tenacious D - sure, they were funny, but OMG, Kyle Gass could REALLY play guitar and I loved Jack Black's vocals, and their harmonies together, unreal. A lot of people might think of them as a novelty band from their later movie, "Pick of Destiny" but those of us who remember them from Mr. Show know that these guys are the real deal.
Mothra was in it for the video, and do you blame her? We made my brother play it over and over again on his computer, relishing in the little things, like how Jack rips his shirt open and Kyle's serious "guitar solo" faces while shoved in that little studio booth. The dancing, too, of course.
I expected that summer to be the worst summer of my life, out of the city that I loved like it was human, broke, jobless, heartbroken, few prospects. I look back on that summer as a summer of real joy, though.
One night Mothra and I decided to drive up Route 22, and we were playing "Would you rather..." and it started off pretty normal. You know, "Who would you rather do, Matt Damon or Ben Affleck?" (Matt, definitely, no question). Mothra and I degenerated into horror inducing choices, and we HAD to make a choice. Larry Budd Melman or Larry King. We dug deep into the past and threw people we knew back in each other's faces, and would laugh so hard Mothra would do that thing she's been doing since she was 16 -- pounding on the steering wheel and slamming on the brakes because she was laughing too hard to drive. We drove all the way to Dover Plains with aching stomachs from laughing. And here we were, 34 years old and cackling like utter loons, just like we always have and I suspect always will despite how "mature" we appear to be.
I would sit on the breezeway in order to smoke and would bring my guitar outside, and my brother would sometimes join me and we'd sing some songs together. We usually did Southern Cross, but one of the songs we tried to play was Tribute. We got good enough playing it that Mothra's then-boyfriend's band let us get up and play it at the now-defunct Colorado Brew Pub. We didn't do that bad of a job, either.
I listened to quite a few songs/albums that summer, I had The Who's "Tommy" and Rush's "2112" on cassette, and I had to drive my brother's car - which only had a cassette player for a while. The Red Hot Chili Peppers came out with "By The Way" and I couldn't stop playing that CD. But when I think of the summer of 2002, I think of Tenacious D, and I think about how for a few brief months, despite feeling lost, I had bonded with my brother and my best friend a little deeper, laughed a lot harder than I had laughed in months, made some great new friends up here in the boonies and couldn't remember the greatest song in the world.
Three things saved my sanity that summer. My brother was also living at home, and he is one of the coolest people on the planet, I auditioned for the local community theater production of "Jesus Christ Superstar", AND my mother's house was less than 10 minutes away from my best friend Mothra's house.
When rehearsals began I would get into these combative debates with Annas about music. Annas was in a band with M____, a guitar virtuoso playing in the pit. M____'s brother was playing Jesus, but Jesus was a jam-band kind of a guy. M______ was more straight ahead Norwegian Death Metal, while Annas liked some prog rock and Anna's brother, Awesome Disciple liked a lot of everything. What we all liked was Tenacious D, and we'd run around singing Tenacious D lyrics to each other, or M___ would break into "Kyle Quit The Band" much to our abject joy.
My brother also liked Tenacious D - sure, they were funny, but OMG, Kyle Gass could REALLY play guitar and I loved Jack Black's vocals, and their harmonies together, unreal. A lot of people might think of them as a novelty band from their later movie, "Pick of Destiny" but those of us who remember them from Mr. Show know that these guys are the real deal.
Mothra was in it for the video, and do you blame her? We made my brother play it over and over again on his computer, relishing in the little things, like how Jack rips his shirt open and Kyle's serious "guitar solo" faces while shoved in that little studio booth. The dancing, too, of course.
I expected that summer to be the worst summer of my life, out of the city that I loved like it was human, broke, jobless, heartbroken, few prospects. I look back on that summer as a summer of real joy, though.
One night Mothra and I decided to drive up Route 22, and we were playing "Would you rather..." and it started off pretty normal. You know, "Who would you rather do, Matt Damon or Ben Affleck?" (Matt, definitely, no question). Mothra and I degenerated into horror inducing choices, and we HAD to make a choice. Larry Budd Melman or Larry King. We dug deep into the past and threw people we knew back in each other's faces, and would laugh so hard Mothra would do that thing she's been doing since she was 16 -- pounding on the steering wheel and slamming on the brakes because she was laughing too hard to drive. We drove all the way to Dover Plains with aching stomachs from laughing. And here we were, 34 years old and cackling like utter loons, just like we always have and I suspect always will despite how "mature" we appear to be.
I would sit on the breezeway in order to smoke and would bring my guitar outside, and my brother would sometimes join me and we'd sing some songs together. We usually did Southern Cross, but one of the songs we tried to play was Tribute. We got good enough playing it that Mothra's then-boyfriend's band let us get up and play it at the now-defunct Colorado Brew Pub. We didn't do that bad of a job, either.
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| Dayo Matteo and I rip Tribute at the Colorado Brew Pub |
I listened to quite a few songs/albums that summer, I had The Who's "Tommy" and Rush's "2112" on cassette, and I had to drive my brother's car - which only had a cassette player for a while. The Red Hot Chili Peppers came out with "By The Way" and I couldn't stop playing that CD. But when I think of the summer of 2002, I think of Tenacious D, and I think about how for a few brief months, despite feeling lost, I had bonded with my brother and my best friend a little deeper, laughed a lot harder than I had laughed in months, made some great new friends up here in the boonies and couldn't remember the greatest song in the world.
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