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Why this blog?
Until this moment I have been forced to listen while media and politicians alike have told me "what Canadians think". In all that time they never once asked.
This is just the voice of an ordinary Canadian yelling back at the radio -
"You don't speak for me."
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Ah wow, all the memories. I was 16 through most of 1989. I too was a long haired metal head. I remember cruising around southern Sask in my truck with mostly Metallica blasting from my speakers. This was such a treat to watch.
I saw two kids at the local superstore a few years back and they looked like they had time warped from ’89. They had the long hair and jean jackets with patches and ripped jeans. The only difference was the patches had some new band names on them. I told them they looked just like I did 25 years ago (at the time) and one of them just gave me the horns and said “metal”. It made me laugh.
Patrick….. I was about 15 years earlier than you but the video also dredged up a lot of memories. For me it was a time of wide-legged jeans, muscle cars and 8 track Craig power plays. I was driving a 71 Plymouth Satellite Sebring and listening to some of the best rock ever. Overseas bands like Thin Lizzy, Bad Company, Sweet and of course Zepplin . From the US it was the Eagles, Styx, Kansas, Boston and Eddie Money. In Canada The Guess Who had been around for a while but bands like Streetheart, Trooper, Harlequin, Triumph were just getting going as well as Rush.
Beer bottles were stubby, a minor possession of booze was a 60 (dollars), gas was around 50 cents a gallon and because I was on the farm, I burned “purple”. Never got caught for that one.
I grew up in southeastern Sask but we’d go up to Regina to the Centre of The Arts or the brand new Agridome for concerts like Ted Nuggent, Cheap Trick, Pat Travers, Chilliwack, Gerry Doucette. CHAB out of Moose Jaw was the AM station we all listened to.
In high school I grew my hair and played in a band. Now that I’m getting dangerously close to 60, I’m happy I still have hair halfway to my arse though it’s thinner and a different color haha. I still play in a band and still doing a lot of tunes from my younger days.
I remember Baby Duck and Lonesome Charlie….. my go to wine though was a sparkling white called Fontana Bianca and every once in a while I buy something that is similar just to try and re-capture a tiny taste of my youth. It was a great time to be growing up.
Late 80s, arguably the peak of Western Civilization. The world denied to some, pissed away by others.
I’d say that the peak of western civilization was the 1780s, when Mozart and Haydn were each creating an average of one transcendentally great work per month.
Well yeah, but I like indoor plumbing and modern dentistry.
Until late 80s or early 90s things were getting better in the West, they were never perfect, but they were getting better (overall/on average), since then things were getting worse.
Another memory just popped into my head. The “warmer” winter nights on a full outdoor hockey rink playing hockey with someone’s vehicle (doors all open) blasting what ever rock tapes people had with them.
Some things never seem to change.
Several years ago, I was in a liquor store lineup and there were some young kids behind me who were either in their late teens or early 20s. When I glanced at them, I saw that they had a bottle of Baby Duck or something like that and I started chuckling.
I told them that I used to drink that rotgut when I was their age while I was an undergrad and that I thought I was being real classy by guzzling it. They looked at me as if I was from somewhere south of Mars, to which I added that they should ask their parents about that hootch as they probably did the same thing.
Ah, the sins of my youth…..
Baby Duck aka the High School Pantie Remover. Everyone passed that stage. Other classy options included Bailey’s, Kahlua or Martini (because it looked even fancier and classier than Baby Duck).
We had a reliable supplier, an older gentleman with a drinking habit. Always ready to get us booze or smokes as long as we also paid for his tallboy or two, … that is provided he wasn’t passed out.
Thinking back to my undergrad days, I sometimes wonder how I lived long enough to finish my B. Sc., if you get my meaning.
A lot of times, my dorm mates and I would go for pizza at any number of places off-campus. We’d often order a bottle or two of some vile swill to drink. For some reason, I’d wake up the next morning wondering why I was born….
Baby Duck was only one of the abominations I drank during those days. The less said about them, the better. One thing, though, is that some of that plonk actually made some pretty good Glühwein. I remember my mother would pour some of it into a pot, add the cinammon and spices, heat it up. Good stuff!
Baby duck and vodka.
Mid ’80s getting the 19 year old brother to bootleg us a bottle of Lonesome Charlie or a bag of mostly stems and / or seeds. Only the rich kids had Baby Blech money.
I recall Lonesome Charlie being good for a groggy morning or two. Those sparkling wines were wretchedly wicked.
Um…huh huh, huh huh….you said “head”…huh huh huh huh huh huh huh huh huh huh…
https://www.readjunk.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/02/pic-beavisandbuttheadcollection.jpg
I am the Great Cornholio, I need some TP for my bunghole.
Looks like the camera man has Parkinson’s.
It is a teenage kid, filming with an amateur film (not digital) camera without image stabilization.
A little like “Detroit Rock City” (1999) a fun time travel down memory lane!
https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0165710/
Loved that film.
“It’s a teenage girl walking along the side of the highway. I mean, they, they, they make scary movies that start out like that.”
“Hey, but, but they make porno movies that start out like that too, man.”
Heh………….
Detroit Rock City movie clip- Trip vs Chongo
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bNSvMhrG4Jw
Give me your gun boy.
No, you give me your gun boy.
I don’t even think you have a gun.
Neither do I.
They call me Doctor Love.
I was CRUSHED when the last Tower Records store closed. My wife, OTOH was thrilled! She won’t go “shopping” with me in 3-places … Record Stores, Hardware Stores, or Book Stores. Which all tend to be long “journeys of exploration”. Fortunate for her, the only LARGE record store I shop at is Amoeba in Hollywood. Otherwise it’s all mail order from Salina, KS for me.
https://store.acousticsounds.com/s/448/Analogue_Productions
BTW … love the kid’s hair.
Our equivalent to Tower might have been the Canadian chain Sam the Record Man, which went out of business more than 10 years ago.
I wasn’t happy when HMV went belly up because I would sometimes order classical music recordings there. At one time, one of its local stores had a good selection of them and even had a separate section for them, but that was a long time ago. I guess when it started selling a lot of other things such as movie and TV paraphernalia, the writing was on the wall.
Kenji,
If you haven’t seen this Colin Hanks film yet, you’re in for a treat. It’s about Tower Records. I saw it a few years ago and enjoyed it tremendously!
From the comments:
“No music, no Life.
Know music, know Life.”
Watch “All Things Must Pass” on YouTube (1:36:48)
https://youtu.be/Hxyon6mBXfU
I adored Tower as did millions of others. In the San Francisco store, one could ask any fairly ignorant question and receive accurate answers with only a hint of disdain from the hippy purveyors manning the aisles. Them were the days.
The Minister of Finance is currently enroute a NASCAR city in the Carolinas from a large red state city flying American with five other passengers. There’s some social distancing for you. The airport from which he flew has two terminals and is usually bustling and slightly manic. This afternoon, most of the lights were off for the dozen or so passengers milling around in the dark.
As he was flipping through the albums, I was keeping a tally. Got it, got it, got it, couldn’t care less, got it.
My vinyl collection will be pried from my cold dead hands along with my Marantz 6320 turntable.
I miss Sam the Record Man. Paydays I would stop there and pick up some new albums. My husband would stand on our 18th floor balcony with binoculars and try to read the labels through the plastic bag. That never ceased to amuse me