- Joined
- Apr 11, 2018
- Messages
- 19
- Reaction score
- 11
Music is a drug. A good one. Unlike chemical drugs that can destroy your body. To paraphrase Neil Young, it can "Change Your Mind". It's almost as good a "drug" as the one he's referring to in that song. One of my all time favorite songs is the Velvet Undergrounds Saved By Rock And Roll (yeah, rock and roll!) That describes the aural drug of music perfectly. The song Heroin however...I can remember when I first heard that like some people can remember exactly where they were when they heard Kennedy was shot. I was mesmerized. The going up is FANTASTIC! The coming down is horrifying. It depicts somebody being TAKEN OVER by a chemical.
I've never gotten hooked on any chemical drug, not even beer or tobacco. Am I just a prude? Am I the most flawless human ever? Let's take a stroll down memory lane for some answers. I'm going to force myself to type this out. You can't see me so I'll describe the scene: old guy at laptop, trembling, clenching, fighting back tears, "must...keep....typing!" My Grandma enjoyed a swig of the liquid variety of drug now and then. She was a tiny little thing 4 feet few inches tall. Nice when sober. But when the booze kicked in it was disturbing. She became a sleazy, greasy whore type woman. She got pulled over for drunk driving, that scared her straight for a little while. But it was Camel cigarettes that helped speed her to the grave. Camels, noooo filters on those babies.
My father had a penchant for Pabst Blue Ribbon and Schlitz Malt Liquor. Even after not seeing any cans for decades I could describe the logo and design on those cans to you now perfectly. Burned into memory. Even before he separated from my mother (the drinking being one of the reasons) he drank a lot. So then he's sad and lonely living in a shack with his drinking buddy. You know what soothed that pain. That's right. It brought relief from the pain of life. One day it brought the ultimate relief: DEATH. (If any depressed people are reading this you better not think I'm advocating the "s" word. A word so sad I can't make myself type it all out.)
And just one more. My mother has described the sad scene she had to witness of her grandma sitting on the porch hacking up tobacco gunk from decades of inhaling it. Can you guess what I'm seeing now with my mother? That's right. She tries to quit. But the addictive chemical says to her "no, we won't be doing that. You NEED me. You WANT me. DO IT! DO IT! DO IT!"
I know, I know "everything in moderation..." But I never heard of anybody overdosing on Beethoven.
Got to end on an up note. You want to rock out? THEN SHOVE SOME ZEPPELIN INTO YO' EARS! Need to relax? Then pour some Debussy over your aching throbbing brain. And finally a quote from Grace Slick: Feed Your HeaeaeaeaeaeaeaeaeaeaeaeEAD!!!!
I've never gotten hooked on any chemical drug, not even beer or tobacco. Am I just a prude? Am I the most flawless human ever? Let's take a stroll down memory lane for some answers. I'm going to force myself to type this out. You can't see me so I'll describe the scene: old guy at laptop, trembling, clenching, fighting back tears, "must...keep....typing!" My Grandma enjoyed a swig of the liquid variety of drug now and then. She was a tiny little thing 4 feet few inches tall. Nice when sober. But when the booze kicked in it was disturbing. She became a sleazy, greasy whore type woman. She got pulled over for drunk driving, that scared her straight for a little while. But it was Camel cigarettes that helped speed her to the grave. Camels, noooo filters on those babies.
My father had a penchant for Pabst Blue Ribbon and Schlitz Malt Liquor. Even after not seeing any cans for decades I could describe the logo and design on those cans to you now perfectly. Burned into memory. Even before he separated from my mother (the drinking being one of the reasons) he drank a lot. So then he's sad and lonely living in a shack with his drinking buddy. You know what soothed that pain. That's right. It brought relief from the pain of life. One day it brought the ultimate relief: DEATH. (If any depressed people are reading this you better not think I'm advocating the "s" word. A word so sad I can't make myself type it all out.)
And just one more. My mother has described the sad scene she had to witness of her grandma sitting on the porch hacking up tobacco gunk from decades of inhaling it. Can you guess what I'm seeing now with my mother? That's right. She tries to quit. But the addictive chemical says to her "no, we won't be doing that. You NEED me. You WANT me. DO IT! DO IT! DO IT!"
I know, I know "everything in moderation..." But I never heard of anybody overdosing on Beethoven.
Got to end on an up note. You want to rock out? THEN SHOVE SOME ZEPPELIN INTO YO' EARS! Need to relax? Then pour some Debussy over your aching throbbing brain. And finally a quote from Grace Slick: Feed Your HeaeaeaeaeaeaeaeaeaeaeaeEAD!!!!