Sunday, August 24, 2008

Ode To My Car

I'm the son of factory workers. Later in life, my father became a postman, and then we really hit the big time.

When I was in my early twenties I moved to Los Angeles to become a big rock n' roll singer. I played the clubs on the Sunset Strip and met some of the most beautiful, and deceptive, women in the world.

But, I literally lived in a crack house.

I mean, well, it wasn't a crack house WHEN I lived in it. It was a crack house right before I moved into it.

This meant that I was liable to get visitors all day and all night, pounding at my door, demanding, "Is Damon here? Do you know where he went?"

It was really a pain-in-the-ass, but I wasn't scared, because I always answered the door with my pit bull in front of me.


But, I wondered, who was this "Damon" and what the hell had he been up to?

Anyway, about a month after I moved into this place, I walked out the front door one morning and this sad-looking little six year-old black kid says to me, "Hey Mr. Do you want to see a picture of my friend?"

So, I say, "Yeah, of course."

And, he holds up this Polaroid photo of this dude in cornrows pointing a nine-millimeter at the camera.

"Who is that guy?" I asked.

"He's the guy who lived there before you moved in."

It broke my heart.

But anyway, such is life, right? Unlike that poor little kid, I wasn't destined to live in the ghetto. I just lived there out of convenience, of sorts.

So, back in those days, my ghetto days, I drove a "piece of shit car." Actually, my piece of shit car looked an awful lot like the third car in this video.

What a life I have had, and what a life I have to come. As strange as that whole episode was, my life actually keeps getting stranger every year.

So, I like to drift back every once in awhile and remember the "simpler, more innocent" times of my youth.

Ode To My Car by Adam Sandler: