Where's Bradstevens and Stoll and so many other new friends I've met recently. Shitty, frozen weather, home after having some Tinis at the club (Holliday, duh) I feel like this website is bad news. Just angst. Anger. Fights. It's missing the camaraderie that I hear was present on prior iterations. Of course there was beef. It's politics. There's always beef. But there was a lot of good. So much good. I've heard of legends. Names like Sope. Mark Milton. But names from the way back when, too. Buzz. Trover. Rockfish. Apparent legends. I don't see it here, which is particularly odd after the greatest sports season in history. And yes, even greater than hoops. So let me start. What's a song/band that literally takes you back to a time/era and gives you a warm feeling. That whole vibe was the crux of the original Stranger Things. There's songs that remind you of times. For me, I played college soccer. Our womens' team was nails. The bus? Driving up and down the coast. Two bands oddly alternated: The Squeeze. An entire tape. Goodbye Girl! And Ten. Black. But we'd play both tapes over and over on a loop on the team bus. But that takes you back to a memory. An experience. Not a time. Driving home tonight I caught Tonight Tonight by Smashing Pumpkins, who, incidentally, the lead singer is a neighbor of one of my best buddies. THAT song, is a marker. It brings us right to a point in history. A vibe. Sensation. Feel. A time. That is the mid 90s! Not a unique, personal memory. A shared, collective point in time that transcends a song that we all can identify.
Anyone else? This board seems old AF? The Beatles? I've Just Seen A Face? Newer? T Swift? Lucky One? Heard it in a Love Song? Marshall Tucker?
This board is on fumes. Let's see if we can't bring back a little of the old spark....
@sharinincarmel If you're gonna drop Marshall Tucker, do better than the obvious.
@sharinincarmel Life's Been Good to Me by Joe Walsh takes me back to high school. It seemed to be on the radio whenever I drove somewhere. To work, to Indy to a Pacers game, whatever.
Long May You Run - Stills and Young. One of my favorite dogs loved to go to the dog park and run. I didn't need to throw a ball or anything, he would just run. When he was diagnosed with cancer it became our song. He lasted about a year with chemo, died of a brain aneurysm as I was trying to leash him up to go to the dog park.
Fernando by ABBA, reminds me of a national championship.
@sharinincarmel Back in the summer of 1979, a couple of brothers in northern Indiana had just bought an old limestone quarry filled in with rainwater, and were trying to decide what to do with it. Their first plan was just to go camping and drinking. So they did. And they were drunk and listening to an old AM radio when they heard the news that Lowell George had died. So they raised a toast to Lowell George. And they promised to come back the next summer and do it again. Which they did.
And every summer after. They never did anything with that quarry, but over the years, their annual camping trip turned into the annual Lowell George Memorial BBQ and Hog Roast, and they made up t-shirts, and charged admission, and put on a big fireworks show, and etc. And they were friends with a guy who eventually married my mom's best friend and became my dad's best friend, so we got invited, and I have a bunch of t-shirts that all say 19xx Annual Lowell George Memorial BBQ and Hog Roast on them with various cartoon graphics, and those were some of the best years of my life.
Eventually it got shut down, because Goddamn Lawyers (it cost them 50K for the fireworks, but that was nothing compared to liability coverage and the overtime they paid to the county cops to patrol the quarry), but for a few years, jumping off that pile of sand, wading in the edge of that stanky quarry, waiting for them to dig up the two-day-underground-baked beans, eating that hog, watching my dad get just drunk enough to have his first cigarette in 363 days (he quit again on Monday) - speaking of drunk, this was where I learned my dad's best trick, he had a big ol' gatorade jug, bought several liters of gin, a whole bunch of quarts of tonic water, and a bag of limes, and filled that fucker up, and then just poured GNT's out the spigot all weekend, fucking genius, I tell you - those were memories I will never, ever, ever lose.
@arthur-dent Ahhhhhh love this!!!! And I’m sorry. All dogs are the best of us but all dogs are not equal. That’s a tough one. We put our sixteen year old dog down yesterday. Six months older than my daughter. There’s an account on Instagram of AI dogs in heaven. I. DO. NOT. RECOMMEND. IT. Dog at the bottom of a long staircase in the clouds, in heaven, smiling: Dad! I made it!!! But I miss you everyday!!! Instant waterworks. The creator should be waterboarded.
I have another one. 8th grade. Big Country - In A Big Country. That’s that time and place.
@goat One of my oldest and closest buddies is obsessed with Little Feat. Icons.
@arthur-dent Thanks man. Ex wife’s dog, tho we got it together 16 years ago, but yes they’re a mess over there. Actually we didn’t get it together. My ex made up a story about it being a found rescue but she actually lied and bought it from a breeder and pretended it was abandoned at Walgreens. 🤣. Bitch lol. Daughter came home from school she was a mess. So I went over and got her and ex met us at the vet. 4th dog I’ve put down at a vet. As you know a misery rivaled by very little. A 2lb dog that ruled the roost with multiple 100 plus pound dogs.
@arthur-dent Thanks man. Ex wife’s dog, tho we got it together 16 years ago, but yes they’re a mess over there. Actually we didn’t get it together. My ex made up a story about it being a found rescue but she actually lied and bought it from a breeder and pretended it was abandoned at Walgreens. 🤣. Bitch lol. Daughter came home from school she was a mess. So I went over and got her and ex met us at the vet. 4th dog I’ve put down at a vet. As you know a misery rivaled by very little. A 2lb dog that ruled the roost with multiple 100 plus pound dogs.
I hate vets. They bring out the damn burial menu of prices right before they put down the animal. Wife is crying, kids crying, so I can't pick the cheap option....no....then I'm an ass, so I got the 2nd best option. You get 6 things you don't need and ashes in an urn. But nobody knows whose ashes they are. You know they just throw all on the same pile of wood in the back and scoop it out as they go. Instead of my cat, I know they gave me a f#cking gerbil (never been a fan of them). And all for the low low price of a 1,000 dollars. It's a f%cking racket. Still pisses me off. Sorry, about the dog.
Edit: I forgot to mention the damn voices. They say it all in that soft funeral voice, like they're being nice and not royally f#cking you in the a#%. Hate them.
@snarlcakes Can't. Stop. Laughing. It's so true! So I had an English Bulldog that was the love of my life. If you saw a pic today you'd say it was AI it was such a beast. I loved that dog more than any 100 people I could name. But my memory is very odd. I can remember very specific details about things where people will say how on Earth can you remember such a thing, while not remembering very basic shit. I think I found him in our basement like a Pound Puppy flat from a heart attack. My ex says that's wrong he was breathing funny in the basement and was actually put down at the Vet. I have zero recollection of that part. I think I found him dead. Nevertheless, to your bit. About the same pile. I have an image of him being tossed/atop a pile of dead dogs in the back of the vet's office. And logic would say it's a bad dream, a nightmare. But in my mind's eye I have this image of the back of a vet's office with a pile of dead dogs waiting for their final, whatever. Cremation. Dumpster. Urn. I don't know. It haunts me tho. All of it. Because I don't know what's true.
And to your urn I have a grandfather, long dead, who did the commercial art for something incredibly well-known. Like Coca Cola lettering well-known. He also acquired some art and was a painter himself. I met someone new and my now ex wife moved in a fit of anger and took everything. Once a year or so I'll ask her hey do you know where any of my grandfather's art is by chance? And she'll reply: I have it; it's with ABE'S urn. ABE was my favorite bully. Yet somehow when I go over there, which is many times a week, I never see any of it. "Oh it's a mess down there."
Layla.
In Memory of Elizabeth Reed.
Stories my bride of 46 years doesn’t need to know or hear.
Can anyone here play this game?