Misfit Toys Road Trip: Thank you. Thank you very much.

What does one wear to Graceland? I probably thought about this more than a lot of other trip planning items. Elvis loved fashion and I didn't want to disappoint. Should I go full on retro and dress like an extra from one of Elvis's movies? Should I go full on Priscilla - lots of belted waistlines and elegant dresses? Or should I go straight up American tourist: jeans, t-shirt, obscenely large bag, possibly a hat? Let's say I landed somewhere in the middle of all of these ideas, vintage-y capris, basic tee, Converse sneakers, no hat, and a moderately sized bag. Yes, I'm aware no one cares, but I care and that's what matters most. Visiting the home of musical royalty is nothing to take lightly.

Seriously, ask the millions of people who have visited Graceland since it opened to the public as a museum and shrine to Elvis in 1982. They come from far and wide to see the home of one of the most beloved musicians in history. Graceland welcomed its 20 millionth visitor in 2016 and expanded to include an entire entertainment complex across the street from the mansion property. I have wanted to visit Graceland since I started listening to Elvis when I was around 10 years old. I have loved Elvis from the very moment I heard my first song. Elvis was a good transition from the boy bands I was into at the time to real deal rock and roll bands I love now. Elvis didn't invent rock and roll, but you're crazy if you don't understand or acknowledge his role in creating the genre. My favorite album of his will always be Aloha from Hawaii; I've watched the special at least a dozen times. My favorite songs include "That's Alright" (his first single on the Sun label), " Can't Help Falling in Love", "Suspicious Minds", "Blue Hawaii", "Fever", "Kentucky Rain", and "Little Sister." I could listen to Elvis records all day and never, ever be bored. 

When my brother and I decided to drive to Memphis to go to a Foo Fighters concert, we agreed to add Graceland to the itinerary. My brother is a great human being and understands my love of Elvis. For an early birthday present, he booked us on a VIP tour and included the planes because now you can tour Elvis's planes. Have you really visited Graceland if you skip the planes? 

Presley purchased Graceland for his parents, Gladys and Vernon, in 1957. They were looking for a larger home and Gladys found Graceland (the name is original to the house), just outside of Memphis. It underwent extensive renovations before the family moved in. Gladys, Elvis's beloved mother, would only get to live in the house for a short time before her death. Elvis and his mother were close; ultimately, the house was a gift for her. He wanted to provide for her and take care of her as she had taken care of him all his life. Graceland is not an ostentatious house from the outside; it's a pretty ranch style house with sprawling land. It's not until you go inside that you really get a sense of the grandeur and extravagance that Elvis brought into the house. 

Elvis grew up poor in Tupelo, MS. His family lived in shotgun shacks and boarding houses most of his life. I'm not surprised by the over-the-top nature of the house given his upbringing and how much he wanted to take care of his family. According to the narrated tour (John Stamos, by the way), Elvis thought of Graceland as his oasis, where he could be with his family, relax, and work all in the same place. He liked to decorate and enjoyed changing up the furniture and the style of the house. You can joke about Elvis all you want, but as far as I'm concerned, he was allowed his Jungle Room, weird monkey statues, gold-plated everything, and sequin covered pillows. The man earned it.

Our adventure at Graceland started with a VIP tour bus from the entertainment complex, Elvis Presley's Memphis, to the mansion. We were the only people in the 10:30 am tour so we had a private bus and viewing of the introduction video; Scott and I know how to roll. We were given tablets with headsets, allowing the dulcet tones of John Stamos to wash over us and lead us through the house. The first room is the living room, complete with peacock stained glass, portraits, and a white sofa that I can only imagine was a bitch to keep clean. One of the many pianos on the property can be seen through the living room in the music room. It's gorgeous. 

From the living room, the tour continues to his parents' room, complete with custom poodle wallpaper, the dining room, and the kitchen. The kitchen was 1970s panel gloriousness, dark and smaller than I thought. A large portion of the house is dark, with paneling and elaborate ceilings that made it feel a little more closed in than I expected. Elvis was a tall man and I have to wonder if he ever felt too tall for parts of the house.

Downstairs includes a mirrored staircase, the billiard room, and a tv room that featuring a wall of televisions and the first of the questionable monkey statues that appear in the house. The monkey is a little creepy; Elvis did have a pet monkey, but this statue is not a pet. It reminded me of something that would come to life in a horror movie and try to steal my soul. See for yourself:

The path out of the billiard room brings visitors back upstairs directly into the Jungle Room, probably the most famous room on display at Graceland. Eventually the Jungle Room would be converted into a studio. Elvis recorded his last two studio albums in this room. It's another dark paneled room, with Tiki statues, more weird monkey statues, and furniture that doesn't look comfortable, but apparently was (thanks, John Stamos). 

The rest of the property includes the stables, Vernon's office, and the Trophy Room, which now houses a display about the family, the house, and various furniture and pieces of fan art sent over the years. The only commissioned portrait of Elvis is also here and it is extraordinary. The last part of the tour includes the racquet ball court and another music room. It happens to be the last place where Elvis played music before he died. After viewing this room, the outside path leads to the Meditation Garden, where Elvis, his parents, and his grandmother are all interred. A small memorial for his twin brother is also here; he's buried in Tupelo. It's a quiet space where fans can pay their final respects to the King. Elvis's tombstone includes script written by his father and is a lovely tribute. You can tell how much love there was in this family.

After leaving the mansion, we were bused back to the entertainment complex where we continued our almost five-hour experience at Graceland. From the mansion, we toured the car museum, saw exhibits on Elvis's time in the Army, his birthplace in Tupelo, and smaller exhibits on Sun Records, Elvis in the movies, and the archives. There's also a large exhibit on Elvis's clothing. It's amazing the sheer volume of stuff that exists in this place and I'm sure what's on display is a fraction of what actually exists. My parents' basement is tame comparatively speaking.

In addition to being overwhelmed by the amount of information and things to look at, I kept thinking about Elvis's legacy. If you consider yourself a rock and roll fan like I am, you can't ignore Elvis. He created a sound that influenced every rock musician that came after him. As we drove to and from Memphis, we listened to Tom Petty, Bruce Springsteen, John Mellencamp, and Big Star. Elvis is a presence in each song, as are the other early rock musicians like Carl Perkins, Johnny Cash, Ike Turner, and so many more. I could hear it as I listened to the Foo Fighters too. I'm always surprised when people tell me they don't like Elvis, but they like rock music. As far as I'm concerned, you can't like rock music without Elvis. He was a great guitar player, which people often forget, and a gifted performer. He held an audience like no other musician. Watch the 1968 television special or Aloha from Hawaii to see what I'm talking about (or watch the documentary, The Searcher, currently airing on HBO). Dude could wear a jumpsuit like nobody else. And fans love him; it doesn't matter that he died in 1977. People will visit Graceland forever, or at least as long as rock and roll exists. They want to experience a little bit more of the music they love and the musician who created what they love. That's what Graceland is.

Some observations and recommendations for visiting Graceland:

• Elvis went through caftan phase at some point. Eventually, we all go through a caftan phase. I'm planning mine for when I'm in my mid-80s, but it could happen at any time.
• John Stamos is the perfect narrator for the mansion tour. I'm trying to figure out what else he should narrate. I'm sure I'll think of something.
• The jumpsuit - iconic, controversial, versatile. There is a section of the larger fashion exhibit that I can only assume is "the Jumpsuit Room." There are so many and they're all amazing. There's even one with unicorns. 
• I don't think I realized how tall Elvis was. Only a tall man could rock a jumpsuit as the King did.
• The planes were sort of a let down. I feel bad saying this because I made a big deal out of the planes. The furniture is covered in plastic and it smells like an attic, so it's basically like going to visit someone's grandparents' house. The only thing missing was a dish of hard candies.  
• The only way to enjoy a grilled banana and peanut butter sandwich is with bacon grease. What's most enjoyable about this sandwich is that the peanut butter didn't get melty like it does when I toast bread for my PB&Js. It's like the bananas form a glue to keep the peanut butter in it's creamy, delicious format. 
• The cars and motorcycles - this was my second favorite part of the extended tour after the Jumpsuit Room. If you love cars, it's a must. I spent a good portion of Thursday afternoon day drinking Pink Cadillacs so seeing Elvis's actual pink Cadillac was pretty awesome. Don't skip the cars.
• Schedule your tour for earlier in the day so you have enough time to see everything. We started our tour around 10:30 am and left around 3:30 pm. We still had time to enjoy Beale Street, eat dinner, and hang out in a haunted dive bar to end our day. 
• Elvis's motto was "taking care of business" and TCB is everywhere at Graceland. I bought a travel coffee mug with this on it and have decided to live my life with this in mind. 
• Go to Marlowe's for BBQ. We stumbled upon this place the night we got into town. It's not too far from Graceland (we were staying out that way) and was one of the only places still open when we arrived. They have pink limos that double as shuttles between Graceland and the restaurant. According to our absolutely delightful waitress, the limos were originally used to deliver takeout to Graceland and became a thing. They've stuck (the place opened in 1974) and now there are seven limos. The restaurant is Elvis themed; we watched the end of G.I. Blues while we ate and enjoyed a beer from Ghost River Brewing Co.  

Later this week: A bonus Memphis post about rock and roll, the blues, the Foo Fighters, and a Duck Master.

Tell me that part about Metallica again...

A few comments:

1. No one has perfect hair rolling out of bed at such an early hour. No one.
2. Metallica and the Offspring shouldn't be used comparatively since they're not in the same genre. Punk and metal are cousins. What good comes of comparing cousins unless your family is mean spirited and horrible?
3. Christopher was always the wrong choice. Always.

I saw a rerun of this episode the day after I saw Metallica live and thought it was a sign from the musical gods that I needed to write about Metallica this week. What I find most infuriating about this particular clip is Christopher's immediate jump from an adult conversation (one he started about marriage and their relationship) to a childish dig on a band he doesn't like but Lorelai does. A band he probably doesn't think girls should like and therefore, because Lorelai does like said band, she is irrational and wrong about all things not just her choice of music. A woman can't possibly like Metallica. Or Black Sabbath. Or any other loud, aggressive music. Christopher is the worst.

My enjoyment of heavy metal music is one of those things people find amusing about me. When I say "heavy metal" I'm talking about more mainstream metal not the dark, dark stuff some people enjoy but you get my point. When this particular topic comes up in conversation or via the blog, people laugh. I remember a conversation with a male friend that went something like this:

Me: I saw Black Sabbath on tour last summer. It was an odd show; Ozzy looked like he was wearing pjs and he occasionally shuffled around the stage like he didn't know where he was. But the music was solid.
Him: You went to a Black Sabbath concert?
Me: Sure. I hadn't them live before so why wouldn't I go? I've also seen Def Leppard a few times, Metallica, and KISS. (Side note: we can argue levels of metal later.)
Him: Really? That just so weird. You're wearing a sweater with pineapples on it.
Me: I'm not sure what my pineapple sweater and my enjoyment of any type of music has to do with one another. I also really enjoy The Ramones. Is this problematic for you?
Him: I just imagine you like girl bands and I don't know, Beyonce. Girls like that type of music. You probably only like metal because you thought a guy would like you more. 
Me: (Pauses...scene in which I punch guy in the throat flashes in front of me as well as my favorite Clue quote.)

Me: As much as I love when guys explain music to me, we should probably go back to talking about work. There's less of a possibility that I'll punch you in the throat if we talk about work. 

(I'm not friends with this person anymore.)
 
I have a long relationship with Metallica. I grew up in the suburbs and my brother is a metalhead so I was destined to enjoy them. I've listened to this type of music since I was at least 9 years old. My brother is one of my earliest musical influences. It's from him that I learned about Metallica, Motorhead, Megadeth, GNR, Anthrax, Black Sabbath, and all the bands in between. He's also responsible for my spiral into hair metal bands. Face it, hair metal is a gift from the heavens and we should all just admit how much we love it and move on. He's my regular concert buddy when these shows come to town. We've seen Black Sabbath, Metallica, KISS, Motley Crue, Alice Cooper, and Def Leppard together. We are super critical of opening acts. We try to predict what the encore will include (we were half right for Metallica this week). In addition to the music itself, we have very dynamic conversations at shows about things like the psychology of the mosh pit. My brother is my favorite person. 

I've seen Metallica in concert twice (2009 and this past Wednesday). I own four of their albums. I know the lyrics to many of their songs. I follow them on social media. I sat through Some Kind of Monster, the mildly ridiculous documentary about the time the band went through group therapy while working on a new album (and Dave Mustaine from Megadeth probably cried off camera). According to James Hetfield's welcome at the show on Wednesday, I'm part of the Metallica family. And the Metallica family doesn't judge...probably.

Metallica is one of those bands that has always been in the my musical mix; sometimes they move to the front, sometimes they're the background while I enjoy other things. But they're never not there. I was thinking about this at the show this week. There is one song that is always front and center for me when I think about my relationship with Metallica. That song is "One."

My brother had a television in his bedroom when we were kids. He watched a lot of MTV and I remember watching videos with him on the rare occasion I was allowed in his room (we're six years apart) so he was a teenager at the time and I was annoying. In 1989, when "One" debuted, he would have been 15 and I was 9. The song is from the album ...And Justice for All. This album was the first Metallica album to reach any sort of commercial success; they were mostly an underground thrash metal band before this. It's also a fiercely political album; there are songs about the environment, censorship, and inequality. "One" was the considered an antiwar song (which I'll get into in a few minutes) and has the distinction of being the first Metallica song to get a music video. In case you haven't seen it:

There are three versions of the video: the above version (the original, long version), a shortened version, and a version missing the scenes from the movie. The original, with the film scenes, is the one I saw in 1989. The film scenes are from an 1971 antiwar movie called Johnny Got His Gun based on the novel of the same name. The film centers around a young man named Joe Bonham who goes off to fight in World War I and returns home as a quad amputee who also lost his eyes, nose, and ability to speak. He remains conscious of what's happening to him but unable to communicate with anyone. The film goes between hospital scenes and flashbacks of him with his family and in battle (and one where he imagines himself part of a freak show). Eventually, he remembers Morse code and begins to send an "SOS" signal to his nurses and doctors and repeats "kill me" over and over again. No one listens to him and he's left alone to an unknown fate. The film wasn't particularly successful, although Jimmy Carter used to show it to members of his cabinet when he was governor of Georgia, but became something of a cult classic after Metallica used in the "One" video. The band eventually bought the film rather than having to pay royalties every time they used the footage.

The video terrified me when I first saw it. Imagine being 9 years old and watching this. First, it's in black and white which is scarier than color film (it's the way light casts shadows in black and white). Then there's the war imagery, the guy hidden from view, the horrible dialogue from the film. It's a lot to handle. This is also the era of long-haired, scary looking Metallica. They all looked dangerous (yes, we can argue they still might look a bit dangerous). Metal is a very physical form of music and they all fit that part so well. James Hetfield and Jason Newsted (this was his first album with the band) were particularly creepy; they both looked like horror movie villains.

Then there are the lyrics. Now as a 9 year old, I was probably not paying as close attention to the lyrics as I do today but here's a sample:

Verse 1:
I can't remember anything
Can't tell if this is true or dream
Deep down inside I feel to scream
This terrible silence stops me
Now that the war is through with me
I'm waking up, I cannot see
That there's not much left of me
Nothing is real but pain now 

Or maybe you're more of a verse 3 kind of person:
I cannot live
I cannot die
Trapped in myself
Body my holding cell
Landmine has taken my sight
Taken my speech
Taken my hearing
Taken my arms
Taken my legs 
Taken my soul
Left me with life in hell

Even if I wasn't paying close attention back then, there are some lines that jump out and my 9 year old self would have heard. Let's not forget the chorus: "Hold my breath as I wish for death/Oh please God, wake me," not exactly the stuff of pop music (which is what I was listening to at the time). I didn't understand why my brother would like such scary things but he did. I didn't understand what it was like to be a teenager and the feelings of alienation and suburban ennui that marked the life of one. Metallica is defiant and that's appealing. They're loud and angry (also appealing). I wasn't a teenager so I didn't get it. I understood this about music later but at that time, I was a little kid who thought it was scary.

Of course, once my brother knew I was scared of the video he would use the information to his advantage, calling me into the room when it was on and singing the lyrics every now and then. Such is the job of a big brother. My fear didn't stop me from being fascinated by the band. I remember borrowing (stealing) my brother's cassette tapes and listening to them when he wasn't home. When other Metallica videos would come on MTV, I'd watch them even when my friends wanted to change the channel. I was hooked but I would never, ever admit it to my brother. I continued listening to my boy bands and pop stars until finally one day, I gave up and embraced my love of all things heavy metal and punk and loud. I credit hair metal for getting me over boy bands; why listen to NKOTB when you can listen to Poison? It was logical at the time.

So there was no boy I was trying to impress because at 9 years old, I didn't care about impressing boys. One day, I saw a really scary music video and I was never able to get it out of my head. I embraced the scary and became a lifelong fan. That's it. I know it's hard to believe that girls and women simply like things because we like things. Our job is not to sit around and think about all the ways to impress a dude with our love of some band. If I did that, I'd have spent more time in my life asking guys to explain Enya and Kid Rock to me than doing anything else, including sleeping. I have zero time for that. I'd rather spend my time listening to "Harvester of Sorrow," my fourth favorite Metallica song, and contemplating the psychology of the mosh pit.

This photo doesn't do the red light on the crowd justice. It was a super cool effect.

Clue meme

Lazy Movie Weekend: Red Two

This is not a review of Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (which I'll refer to as TFA for the remainder of this post). It's more about my experience with the larger Star Wars universe and going to see TFA this weekend. I promise no spoilers in my post but I will say six things about the new movie:

1. TFA reminds me more of the original trilogy; there's humor, likable characters, and you get the feeling it doesn't take itself too seriously (which was a huge problem for the prequels). 
2. Poe Dameron ≠ Wedge Antilles. More on this shortly.
3. BB8 is as endearing as R2D2. 
4. We now know how Leia updated her iconic hairstyle for a more mature look. It's similar to a look she wore when in Endor during Return of the Jedi but there's an air of older, wiser and more powerful about her now.
5. Watching any sort of aerial fight in this movie never gets old. 
6. Rey. That is all.

Hopefully this didn't ruin anything for you. If it did, you should reset your expectations on a lot of things. If you would like a review, check out Bad Shakespeare's blog. There's a spoiler free version up now and a spoiler inclusive version will be up on Monday.

One of the things I've always appreciated about Star Wars is the very personal and unique ways in which fans experience the movies and related universe. Everyone seems to have a Star Wars story of some kind: the first time they saw one of the original movies (in the theater or not), playing Star Wars in their backyard with their friends, making up adventures for your action figures like that time Han and Chewie rescued a Barbie in the Millennium Falcon, seeing an adult camped out in front of a movie theater in a full Storm Trooper costume when the movies were re-released in the theaters (I was going to see another movie), the opening notes of any of John Williams's score. Like a lot of artists, George Lucas had his own intentions and purposes when creating this world but it's taken on a life of its own. Maybe he was prepared for that, maybe he wasn't. I have no idea what I would do if something I created had such a following that everyone knew about it without even having to watch it. I got the sense that this was happening in the theater for a lot of people.

Another element of Star Wars I appreciate is the generational appeal of the franchise. Unlike a lot of other movies and series targeted at families or at least family adjacent, it's actually something that entertains parents as much as children. Parents, some of whom remember their own first experiences with Star Wars, can enjoy it in a way that other Disney movies (let's face reality) and animated movies don't capture. It's funny, sad, hopeful, desperate, romantic, action-packed, and fantastical all at the same time. Star Wars captures the imagination and inspires that imagination to move further and further into a galaxy far, far away.

My older brother, Scott, has always been a fan. I can't remember a time in his life (at least since I've been alive and aware of things) that did not include Star Wars. He's seen and owns the movies (multiple formats and versions), reads the novels and comics, has most (if not all) of his original toys plus more from the re-releases, and he loves John Williams. He knows a lot about the Star Wars universe and ts many worlds and plots and schemes. Like Legos, James Bond, and Marvel movies, it's something we enjoy together. Since word of the coming of TFA, he has not actually paid attention to much of the media about it. Scott's not on any social media site so it's easier for him than it is for me. He wanted to experience it rather than speculate like the rest of us. I believe he succeeded on this front.

What I didn't expect him to do was buy a Chewbacca coat. I bought my Rebel Alliance/Imperial Forces cardigan a month ago and had no idea he would buy this coat. It's awesome. I've learned a lot of things from Scott over the years and being a proud nerd is the thing I love the most. He does not care if anyone thinks what he likes is nerdy; he likes what he likes and that's that. This coat is a symbol of that confidence. 

We went to an 11 am showing on Saturday with our dad (who forgot he was going and who had to be talked into wearing a Storm Troopers shirt). Scott was one of the most costumed people in the theater; I counted two Storm Troopers sans helmets, a half Darth Vader, and a possible Kylo Ren. I expected more but mostly it was people in t-shirts and sweatshirts (like me) that made up the audience. Excited conversation filled the theater from kids and adults alike. There was applause during the movie mostly when a beloved character reappeared. The audible gasps at points throughout were a surprise; you'll know where once you see it. And of course, applause at the end of the movie as the credits rolled. 

Secondary characters abound in TFA just as they did in the original trilogy and to a less successful extent in the prequels. There are some familiar faces both to fans of the movies and to fans of J.J. Abrams. I am a solid Wedge Antilles fan despite him only having a handful of lines that were dubbed over in the first two movies by another actor. I was hopeful there would be a Wedge-like character for me to adore. My brother and I both agreed that Poe Dameron ≠ Wedge Antilles. We can live with Poe but there's something too "I'm going to be really important later on" about him. I prefer Wedge with his limited lines and awesome ability to not die in two firefights and a battle on Hoth. I know I was "supposed" to have a crush on Luke or Han but I was always partial to Wedge (Denis Lawson not Colin Higgins). Maybe it was the uniform. I guess Snap Wexley will have to fill the void.

All in all, my TFA experience was exactly as I hoped it would be. I was at a party this weekend and was asked multiple times if I enjoyed the movie and if it was worth it. Here's my response: you know when you're a kid and you get really excited about something and then that thing happens and it's a total let down? This was the exact opposite of that feeling. TFA is not my favorite Star Wars movie (that will always be The Empire Strikes Back) but it's certainly worthy of the originals and a wonderful beginning to a new series of adventures in the world of the Jedis, the Dark Side, and a new hope. 

Wedge Antilles meme

Roller Coasters

There is a ride at Cedar Point called the maXair. It's what's known as a giant frisbee in the amusement park business (I looked it up). The one at Cedar Point is one of only two in the world (the other is at Kings Island). It's not a roller coaster so there are no loops or crazy drops but it is one of the most addicting rides I've ever been on. There are 50 seats on the giant frisbee and at the peak of the two minute ride, it soars to 180 feet and twists and turns at 70 mph. There are several moments when you're upside down and several more when you think you might hit one of the large orange poles that support the ride. Mostly, it's the sensation of soaring and not having any control over the air or the motion. You can close your eyes (it's cool if you do at least for a little while) or watch people on the ground watching you. On a sunny day, you can see the beautiful blue sky and fluffy perfect clouds It's peaceful despite the risk involved in being that high in the air, spinning at that speed, and the only thing holding you in is a small seat beat and a plastic shoulder harness. I rode the maXair twice on my recent (and first) visit to Cedar Point. I could have ridden forty more.

I love roller coasters and thrill rides. I can't remember my first real roller coaster (although I believe it may have been Space Mountain at Disney World) but I know that I've always loved them. It's amazing to me that large groups of people will wait in line for hours (sometimes) to ride something that is usually over in less than three minutes. There is a definite rush when riding on a roller coaster; the climb to the top followed by what is normally a crazy drop that segues right into a twist that takes you upside down and around is thrilling. Even old school wooden coasters pack a certain type of punch with their drops, usually in quick succession, and the realization that wooden tracks maybe shouldn't curve the way they do. I imagine it's like what descending into a gold mine was like back in the day.

Lake Erie

            My brother and I try to go to an amusement park each summer. We don't always make it and obviously there was that whole period of time that I lived in other states where this didn't happen as frequently either. Last summer we took a random weekday off in August and went to Kings Dominion. It was a perfectly overcast day and we basically had the run of the park. This summer we decided to visit Cedar Point on our way to Detroit. I've never been to Cedar Point and Scott can't remember when he was there last. Cedar Point is right on Lake Erie and I've been told that you can see Canada from the top of the Millennium Force. I don't know if that's true because I was too busy screaming as we dropped from 300 feet. We visited on a picture perfect day, blue skies, temperatures in the 70s. It was windy though and a few rides were closed because of this.

Neither of us are particularly chatty when it comes to strangers but we did end up talking to two groups, one in line at the Raptor and the other on the Gemini. The wait for the Raptor was about an hour, the longest wait we had all day. In front of us was a little boy sporting a Darth Vader shirt ("Chillin' Like A Villain" it read), bright red hair, and the kind of enthusiasm only children under 12 have for anything. He was with his grandparents and was excited to be riding the Raptor for the first time. His grandmother started the conversation with me asking if I had ridden the Raptor before and when her grandson heard me say no, he asked me if I was scared and if I thought it was going to be cool. Yes, I told him to both questions. We talked about the park a bit and she told me he had recently ridden Space Mountain for the first time. We didn't get to ride the Raptor at the same time; they went before us. I saw them a little later on heading towards the Blue Streak and the little boy looked perfectly content and excited to be on another roller coaster. He made me wonder if any of my grandparents would have ever ridden giant roller coasters with me.

The other conversation we had occurred on the Gemini (and I do mean on the ride). A brother and sister were sitting in the car in front of us. She was probably 11 or so and he was 8 or 9 (so my brother and I except Scott is older than me). As we ascended to the start of the ride, the two of them turned to us and started telling us how awesome Gemini was and that the blue car always cheated (it's a dual run coaster so the cars leave at the same time and run on parallel tracks - we were on the orange car) and that we should ride Millennium Force and to avoid the Slingshot (which you have to pay extra for anyway). I can barely say anything other than "This was a bad life choice" or "Are you f-ing joking" when experiencing the first drop or extreme loop on a ride (these are exact quotes by the way) so I was impressed and slightly uncomfortable with their conversation skills. These two were just chatting with us like it was no big thing. They had absolutely no fear of what was about to occur. Their excitement was so awesome; it made me realize that I want to be like them every day. When the ride ended, we exited and moved on to other rides. They got right back in line for the Gemini. I assume they're still there hoping that this one time the blue car won't cheat and the orange car will win.

Our favorite rides of the day were the Millennium Force, Magnum XL-200, and the Gatekeeper. The Magnum was the surprise of the day; we got through the line quickly both times we rode it and it was a shocker. When it was built in the late 80s, it was the tallest, fastest, and steepest coaster in the world. I can absolutely agree with all of these things. During our second ride, the woman in front of us almost lost the small purse she had after a drop and a turn. Impressive. It also includes tunnels; I love tunnels and roller coasters that take place in the dark. Not actually being able to see what's coming makes a roller coaster even better in my opinion.

We finished our day enjoying ice cream in the breeze of Lake Erie. I was able to accomplish on of my summer goals by enjoying my first Superman ice cream in probably twenty years. It tasted exactly as I remember it from my childhood...delicious.

Waiting in line for the Millennium Force - finally a picture where Scott is making a face not me.

Dioramas from my parents' basement

My parents have lived in their current house for twelve years. This is the longest either of them have lived in a house since they got married. We moved a lot when my dad was in the Army; there is no childhood bedroom awaiting my visits. Twelve years is a long time to live in one place and 43 years is a long time to be married. A person can amass a lot of stuff in that span of time. Two people can amass even more. And four people? It's scary to consider and then to witness the sheer amount of stuff that four people have. From the graveyard of televisions and old computer equipment to the wall of Christmas, our basement is the kind of place where time ceases to exist and you become overwhelmed by memories of the same wood salad bowl at dinner every night and a time when owning a set of encyclopedias was a big deal. If you wanted to remember what entertainment looked like in the 1980s or 1990s (or even the late 1970s), we've got you covered. I have ventured into my parents' basement and it is a box filled place of mystery and memory.

The basement has been a topic of discussion for years. We talk about cleaning out the basement like some families plan vacations. I'm sure that if it was a logical and safe option, one of my parents would take a torch to the basement and be done with it (I'll let you guess which one). Of course, this is neither logical nor safe so we're back to figuring out how to tackle the basement. Earlier this week my mom emailed me about my weekend plans and suggested that we spend some time working on the basement. I got unnecessarily excited about this and was all ready to start organizing and discarding years worth of I don't even know what. I was grossly under-prepared for the task at hand. This type of organization demands a plan and all I came with was a plucky can-do attitude. My attitude was no match for the sheer force of the basement.

I got distracted by all of things.

Do you remember the Care Bear Cousins? The Care Bear Cousins were introduced as the other animals (and a penguin) that were friends to the Care Bears. They appeared in the original Care Bear movie and the 1980s cartoon series (and I believe they've been brought back in more recent cartoons). I forgot all about the Care Bear Cousins until I stumbled upon Cozy Heart Penguin just hanging out over by some bed linens and old pillows. Not to be outdone, my yellow and white blanket (crocheted by my grandma) was just lying there waiting for me to wrap myself in it like I used to when I was younger. I may have wrapped it around my shoulders like a cape (no photo, no proof). Did I mention the hat my dad brought me from Puerto Rico? All of this occurred in the first five minutes of exploration. If I continued at this rate of discovery, I would probably have to spend every day in the basement from now until the end of the summer just to make a small dent.

And I hadn't even made it to a galaxy far, far away.

To say that my brother likes Star Wars would be understatement. He has toys, comic books, books, games, clothing, and multiple copies of the movies. He's also a really big John Williams fan. He was young enough when the original films came out that he has many toys from when they were first released. He also has a box full of the re-released figures from the mid-1990s (none of these are open). You can tell my brother really loved his Star Wars toys; they're worn down by love and adventures. One box included the Millennium Falcon, an Ewok village playset, the Cantina (this is the saddest looking of all the toys), and a land speeder. This was just what I could see without moving too much. It was like being back in our paneled basement in Wisconsin. I had Barbie and She-Ra; he had Star Wars and He-Man. We played in equal yet divided universes. One day we'd discover Legos and occasionally join forces. Such is childhood.

My experience proved two things to me:

1. This basement project needs a project manager.
2. I am way more sentimental and sappy than I thought I was.

I can address the first point. After discovering my Woodstock tackle box wedged between two ancient lawn chairs, I announced to my parents that we would need a plan to tame the basement. Everyone will have a role to play and responsibilities in this project plan. Now that I know that a can-do attitude will be broken by memories in the first five minutes, I can figure out how to best attack each section of the basement. We'll have to rent a truck to haul the electronics and other larger items to the dump. We'll have to make hard choices about furniture that we've had since forever. That wooden salad bowl has got to go. My brother will have to make some decisions about the Rebel Alliance and the Empire (and the box of comics I didn't even bother to open). There will be spreadsheets and calendar events and a need to invest in better allergy medication. If my family thinks I'm bossy now, they will know the full range of my bossiness by the end of this project. But they will have a clean and organized basement to enjoy. The two balance each other out if you ask me.

I don't think that I can really prepare for the second point. No matter how organized or prepared I am, memories are memories and they come with emotions and stuff and things (that is a technical term). No amount of spreadsheets and calendars and task assignments can erase sentimentality. I will balance my organizing with cleaning my Woodstock tackle box (it's going to make a storage container - probably for some of my sewing stuff) and wrapping myself in my yellow and white blanket. That should help in the short term.

Somewhere in the basement is a box of Cabbage Patch Kids wearing my baby clothes. I will be ready for them.

 

Wherever I May Roam...As long as I get to plan the trip

My brother thinks I'm bossy. We have this conversation occasionally and it's usually because I have been the decisive member of our family. It could be about planning my mom's birthday, driving cross country, or going through the basement and getting rid of all the crap that lives there. My brother, if questioned extensively, would probably be able to point to multiple times in our lives where I have bossed him into doing something. Usually, the end result is very positive. My bossiness is a positive trait (at least that's how I see it) and it moves us along and means that we are, as a family, more decisive. I do not believe we should "ban bossy" as some people would like us to do. I love being bossy. Banning the word bossy isn't going to solve the issue of female empowerment. I think it will have the opposite effect. I feel the same way about bossy that I do about slang terms for female anatomy that are used as slurs; if you don't take ownership of the word it allows someone else to do it for you. Own bossy, don't ban it.

I digress. Several years ago I decided to try Netflix. This was back when you could only do the DVD option and no one binge watched television. I believe we had more patience back then (in 2004). My first Netflix delivery was the documentary Some Kind of Monster. If you've never heard of this documentary, it's follows the heavy metal band Metallica and their experience going through therapy as a band, recording their album (the terrible St. Anger), and replacing bassist Jason Newsted. Newsted left the band (for lots of reasons) and as a result, Metallica's management team hires a life coach-y guy to works with the band through their issues so they can deliver the new album. My description is not doing the film justice; you really just have to watch it. You don't even have to be a Metallica fan or a heavy metal fan to enjoy the film. Would it help you if I told you that Dave Mustaine (he was kicked out of the band in the 80s and went on to start Megadeth) almost cries during his confrontation scene with Lars Ulrich? Watch it just for that. My brother and I convinced that there is "lost" footage of Dave crying but since the damage to his psyche has been complete, the filmmakers opted to keep it out of the finished film. Weak.



Anyway, Metallica is one of my brother's favorite bands (he also enjoys Megadeth) so when I finished watching the film I immediately sent him a text that he had to watch it and that I would bring the Netflix DVD to him. I wouldn't say I was being bossy just incredibly enthusiastic about something that I thought my brother would enjoy. My brother might say otherwise. He watched it, agreed that it would have been better if Dave Mustaine had actually cried, and went on with his life. We occasionally talk about the film at odd times and went to see Metallica live during the Death Magnetic tour in 2008 (one of my top five concerts). I genuinely like Metallica. I own several of their albums and the concert was amazing. Lars Ulrich is a phenomenal drummer (and incredibly narcissistic) and James Hetfield is terrifyingly awesome. Kirk Hammett, the guitarist, is a saint (dude puts up with a lot of BS from the others) and the bassist selected during the film, Robert Trujillo, fits in the lineup nicely. I feel sort of bad for Trujillo. Dude probably just wanted to play bass in a heavy metal band (and play he does) but he also inherited a band that is sort of broken (at least at the time) and run somewhat like a corporation. There's even a part in the film where the rest of the band discusses their original bassist, Cliff Burton. You get the sense that no one will ever replace Burton. That's a hard role to be in.

Last week I detailed our adventures on Record Store Day 2014. We could have spent our day in Baltimore waiting in a crowd at The Sound Garden for Robert Trujillo but we did not. My brother admitted that he didn't want to deal with a crowd for the a guy who wasn't part of the original lineup (poor Robert Trujillo). Had it been any other member of the band, he would have done. I did not boss him into going and we had a nice day visiting a few stores and eating tater tots. I did, however, re-watch Some Kind of Monster. And here is the grand realization that I had: I am Lars Ulrich and my brother is Kirk Hammett. Metallica is often described as a band that's existence is fueled by the constant power struggle between Lars and James and that other members, including Kirk, are often left powerless and voiceless in the band. This is probably one of the reasons that Jason Newsted left. In my re-watching of the documentary, I remembered my initial reaction to Kirk's role in the band - poor Kirk. There's even a scene where the band is discussing guitar solos and the guys stop short of calling them unnecessary. Seriously Metallica?

I had actually come to the realization that my brother is the Kirk Hammett of our family earlier in the day when we were discussing the documentary with my friend Anita. She has not seen it nor is she into Metallica so the whole band history was bit foreign to her. As we described the events of the film and the band, she agreed with my comparison. Anita has known my brother forever so she wasn't just following my weirdo theory. Scott, my brother, is fairly unassuming, responsible, likes loud guitar music, keeps to himself, and is pretty quiet. Kirk Hammett is fairly unassuming (for being a member of Metallica), responsible (at least he seems like he is), likes loud guitar music, keeps to himself, and is pretty quiet. Lars, on the other hand, is pretty loud, sort of a jerk, and 100% bossy. Now, I don't think I'm nearly a narcissist like Lars or as much of a jerk (and PS: Lars is my favorite member of Metallica) as he is but when it comes to bossiness and saying things that sound complimentary but maybe aren't, Lars and I are the same person. I'm also a bit of a perfectionist like Lars. I would have probably made Dave Mustaine cry too. 

What's important to keep in mind is that you can't have Metallica without both Kirk and Lars just as you can't have my family without Scott and I. I mean, you could but it wouldn't be our family just like Metallica would never be the same if any of the original lineup left. You need bossy and you need quiet sensibility. That's what keeps the world going round.

Take Back Bossy
Band image
Kirk Hammett