There was a time…. (Okay, this sounds like it could get heavy), when I used to be cool. Well pretty cool. Maybe not pretty cool, I mean I would never be in Robert Plant’s or Jimmy Hendrix’s league of cool but definitely cooler than I am now!
When I met Mrs Grump all those many years ago (almost 3), and I looked into her beautiful, emerald eyes with matching cardigan, and she looked into my slightly vacant, glazed, good eye, I was the front man in a band. That made me cooler and gave me more confidence to woo her. None of this Mr Darcy rubbish. More like, “Hey pretty Momma. You’re gorgeous and I know I’m going bald and am clearly an extremely successful Insurance professional but I’m also in a band and we kick ass!” Job done.
Actually we weren’t bad. Our Facebook page had 65 likes and not all of them from people I actually know and bullied into liking it.
We played some decent venues and for a trio, had quite a big sound. It wasn’t Metal, or Indie. There were no signs of any stupidly tight skinny jeans with visible underwear in our band! Quite the opposite. I sometimes wore flares because, well, flares are cool. Our sound was a melting pot of acoustic, singer songwriter, folky, rock kind of vibes. I was fortunate to have some really talented musicians with me. One reviewer once wrote that I had a voice reminiscent of a pet shop burning down. Wow, what a compliment.
We were really close to getting big. We had quite a following. I think at the last gig, we managed to get about seven people to it. It was difficult with the onus being on the bands to sell tickets and although myself and the Six String Slap Master Russ on bass would often manage to coax/beg some people to come, Rick Havoc on drums, never brought anyone. Perhaps, he thought my flares would intimidate his friends?
The point I’m making, is that back then, up on stage, playing our music and having people swaying to it, (possibly killing time, waiting for the bus kind of swaying) was really cool. Regardless of how successful or infamous you get, it’s cool being able to say, “Yeah, I’m in band.”
But those days have gone now my friend. Put me and the word “cool” in the same sentence and you know it’s probably in relation to some kind of air conditioning frustration.
The reality of this hit me last night. As you probably know, if you are an avid follower of my Grumpy rants, I’ve never really been “down” with what’s trendy. If you are not a regular follower, you probably already worked that out with my earlier flares comment. But one thing I never got into, was the whole “Friends” thing. Friends the TV show. I just didn’t really get it. What was all the fuss about? Mrs Grump however, loves Friends and has them all on dvd. So I agreed to start at the beginning and work our way through all 4 million episodes.
You know what? I’m enjoying it. It’s pretty funny. However, one of the most appealing things about the show has to be Jennifer Anniston’s erect nipples. That studio must have been pretty cold.
So it’s Friday night, we’re on the sofa, cuddled up, Mrs Grump laughing at the jokes, me just waiting for the next scene with the mesmerising, hypnotic nipples of Jennifer Anniston.
Then suddenly, my mind is somewhere else. I’m reflecting on recent events whereby, I have had a couple of job interviews and had to get suited and booted. Looking sharp, for my second interview, I adopted something I’ve never experienced before; the Windsor Knot. Without any real conscious decision, my mouth suddenly blurted out, “I really enjoyed that Windsor knot.”
Oh how times change. From being in a band, sporting flares, with comradeship, loud music and high octane acoustic finger picking to fond enthusiasm for a particular fashionable and symmetrical knot.
Rock and Roll!
P.S A very Merry Christmas to you all.