"On a dry and dusty road/The nights we spent apart, alone/I need to get back home/ To cool, cool rain...I can't sleep and I lay and I think/The night is hot and black as ink/Oh god, I need a drink/Of cool, cool rain."
Friday, November 25, 2011
Something I've always historically done staying up late nights on holiday weekends was to sit in my parent's living room with my big clunky headphones listening to my father's copy of Quadrophenia. It was one of his favorite albums, by his favorite band. I can still see him walking around our house in his Maximum R&B T-shirt and his tighty whiteys coming downstairs after a night's rest as I'm sliding his Quadrophenia records back into their sleeves and preparing to finally go to sleep. I always wished I would have stayed up another hour or two and listened to the record one more time with him. I was a stupid teenager though and somehow, even though I was listening to his record and he was wearing a Who shirt for pajamas I never did, at the time, think of him as cool enough to hang out with. Have you ever seen that Louie episode where Louis CK rocks out to "Who are You?" in the car with his kids? Well, I've had that exact experience with my dad about a thousand times. I thought he was such a nerd. Now I'd give anything to rock out with him like that to "The Rock," or "The Real Me," or "I've Had Enough," or "Love, Reign O'er Me." Or to just sit and talk to him at dawn about which of Jimmy's four split personalities he liked best or what it was like to hear those waves rolling in for the first time on "I Am the Sea," or about the significance of water as a symbol in the greatest rock opera of all time. This one's for my dad.