People say not to live in the past. To which I say, “The past was fun as hell.” Of course the present is amazing, and the future unsure and uninsured, but here we are, forever in the present, the now, the moment—until we’re not.
Ah, just kidding. I won’t do another deeply dark Sundays in the Shade post. But here I am, listening to Metallica’s Fixxxer,” and the thought comes to me: “When was the first time I heard this song?” And it makes me wonder—What other firsts do/can I really remember?
I have an entire playlist dedicated to the first song that I heard of most every band I listen to regularly. (A work in progress.)
And I remember the first CD I ever owned: . . . And Justice for All by Metallica. And the first song I played completely on drums (“Cantspeak” by Danzig), and on guitar (“To Live Is To Die” by Metallica), and on bass (“Money” by Pink Floyd), and on melodica (“This Guy’s In Love With You” by Burt Bacharach).
And my first memory was being carted down the hallways of a nondescript hospital hallway with green walls with my parents by my side. My first drink—a Jack & Coke at Henry’s at the ripe old age of 23. My first car was a shitty ’86 Chrysler LeBaron and the first time I drove was at 9 years old in an white Honda Vista. (It later died and the joke among my family stemmed from the old restaurant Vista on 6th St., a burger joint that had the appropriate slogan, “Make the Vista Run!” It never ran again.)
I remember the first KVKL game I ever played in. It was against the old Creation Station team in 2010, pre-Game of the Week, and I pitched. We (Wildman) won, handily, like, 32-2.
Yet, for the life of me, after all these other (relatively) insignificant firsts, I cannot remember my first pitch, or first kick, or first out—anything. Maybe because, at the time, it didn’t seem like it would have as much of an impact on my life as it has. Hell, I remember the first week of dodgeball, and it was only a couple months prior to my first KVKL game. And I remember my first memory in life more clearly. (It was more of a nightmare.) I recall meeting everyone on that team for the first time—even the people who barely played again—which says something of the lasting memory of interaction as opposed to action—but the storied firsts of that first game have since been forgotten (maybe for the best).
So I wonder, further, since we have players who’ve been in this league way longer: What are some of your first memories? Be it the plays you made, the people you met, the games you played—any of it.
In that regard, [one of] the first music videos I recall seeing (that wasn’t Faith No More’s “Epic”), that had a lasting impact, was Metallica’s “One.” Inspired by Dalton Trumbo’s novel Johnny Got His Gun (and the film that eventually followed), it’s the inspiration for this week’s (second) Movie Poster Monday: Johnny’s vs. Corksuckers.