Detroit was ground zero for the dark, seething underbelly of the 60's. Everybody remembers the happy hippies of Woodstock, but we have tried to forget the very real anger that was just as much a part of that era. While the flower children were doing their thing, singing how we should just just smile on our brother and learn to love one another right now, Detroit bands like The Stooges and MC5 were letting us know what it was like to have your teeth kicked in by the cops and then be charged with assault. My kind of music. Now I love the MC5, but I haven't been listening to them much lately. You know how it is, music works it's way to the back of your collection for awhile, only to be re-discovered years later. Last night, however, the MC5 came back into my life as I slept.
In my dream, I had decided that it was time for me to learn to play the bass guitar, and so I had signed up for some classes at the local community college. The instructor enters the classroom, and it is none other than the bass player for the MC5. Sweet! I will finally be able to ask him about the jar!
"Um...the jar?" I hear you saying. You see, the first MC5 album I bought years ago had a rather, um....disturbing picture on the back. Here it is:
That jar has fascinated me from the day I first laid eyes on it. What could possibly be inside? Would I really want to know? The way the dude with the afro is pointing at it it almost looks like he's soliciting spare change so he can take the bus home after the gig. In my dream though, the mystery of the jar was about to be solved! I sat patiently though class, barely able to concentrate on the lesson knowing that this obsession of mine was about to be put to rest. After class, as I made my way up to the front of the room my heart rate quickened with anticipation........
Then I woke up. And my heart really was beating fast. Why the fuck would my brain be thinking in the middle of the night about a band I haven't consciously thought of in years? Why would the mystery of the jar surface now after lying dormant for so long? DAMN YOU JAR! I WILL UNLOCK YOUR SECRET SOMEDAY!
I'm thinking I should talk to my doctor about Ambien, and, um, maybe a few other things.
(note: for special bonus content for this post, click on "American Ruse" where you see Drugmonkey Radio, on the right side of this page.)
1 comment:
I knew 'em, and that jar had been full of weed right up to the top the night before. Robin just wanted some more.
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