148. Runny Mascara

148. "School's Out" by Alice Cooper

Since I've been a professional educator for most of my career, most people would probably not expect a song like "School's Out" to be one of my favoritist songs. But as my good friend Hondo says, "Peoples is idiots."

In truth, teachers can hate school as much or more than the students. And having worked as a teacher for six years, I can guarantee that the only people that detest the principal more than the students are the teachers. By the end of the year, the teachers are so sick of putting up with crap from administrators that they can barely hold on to their sanity until that last bells rings and they have three therapeutic months to repress the urge to firebomb the principal's office.

Don't get me wrong. I learned to hate school plenty enough when I was a student. The last semester of high school went pretty sour for me. I did have some good memories, especially of Mz. Marsh Valley, band tour, and track. But when I wasn't hanging out with friends, I basically retreated mentally into this little corner of hell reserved for teenage boys that have sworn off dating due to multiple rejections only to be asked out to the senior prom by their principal. (That entire tale will be chronicled in another related song.) Anyway, for the last four months of high school, I basically felt like Alice Cooper looks. And this song perfectly embodies the way I felt about school by graduation.




Well we got no class.
And we got no principals.
And we got no innocence.
We can't even think of a word that rhymes.
School's out for summer!
School's out forever!
My school's been blown to pieces!

It was lyrics like these that made Alice Cooper one of the evil musicians that our religious leaders warned us about--a depraved pervert that would brainwash us with his song lyrics so that he could lead the youth astray and eventually destroy our nation through the spread of sin. But honestly, after this last election and what we've seen Trump do to America so far, do we really still think Alice is the one that wants to destroy public education, set a bad example for our youth, and send the country down the path of ruin? Hell! I'd vote for him!

149. Blitzkrieg Bop

149. "Metal Health" by Quiet Riot

On a chilly evening in the fall of 1983, the Marsh Valley football team stood on the Malad football field stretching out and warming up with our usual routine of jumping jacks, pushups, choppers, and leg stretches. Malad's team hadn't taken the field yet, and we had pretty much run out of exercises to do. We had a good team that year, and we were pretty confident we'd win this game, so we weren't really nervous about the game, but we weren't psyched up about it either.

Then the dragons finally stormed onto the field while the hometown crowd cheered them on--usually a moment when the visiting team gets psyched out, not psyched up. But the folks running the loudspeakers made a terrible mistake. Instead of letting the noise of the crowd energize their players, they blasted out a song from the Footloose movie soundtrack.

No, not "Let's Here It For The Boy." Nope, it wasn't "Almost Paradise." Sorry, but there was no "Dancing in the Sheets." And there wasn't anyone cutting "Footloose" either. Why? Because the movie Footloose wouldn't premiere until a good 3+ months later. But there was one titular song from another album that was making its way up the charts that would be featured in the film and would be listed as a bonus song on the Footloose soundtrack. That song was "Metal Health" by Quiet Riot.

At the sound of that song blasting out onto the field, everyone on the Eagles side of the field yelled out in delight. Adrenaline shot through our veins, and we started to get violently psyched up for the game--pounding each other's shoulder pads and slamming our helmets together when the lead singer belted out the line "Bang your head!"



While Malad's team put on quite a show of excitement while the song was playing, I think at least a few people on their sideline noticed that we had become more psyched up by the song than the home team. They probably didn't realize it, but the moment the opening chords of the song hit our earbones was the moment Malad lost the game. We got so psyched up by the song that we ended up crushing them in the first half. I don't remember the final score, but I do remember that we got so far ahead of them that the coach actually let me play linebacker for four plays--two plays at two different times during the game.

I had always wanted to play linebacker, not center. Unfortunately, the team had plenty of guys that could play linebacker, but only two that could focus their attention during a game well enough to keep count when the quarterback started yelling "Hut!" and hike the ball at the right time--me and Shane McQuivey. And the coaches didn't want to risk me getting injured during the game on defense so that I couldn't play offense. But because we were so far ahead in the game by the second half, they started letting the second string center play ball, which put me on the sidelines. (Doug Armstrong was second string center. And no, he didn't count too good.)

Because the coaches began to look at the game as an opportunity to train people in their back-up positions, I got to finally play some defense! Each time I took the field as linebacker, I was sent in on a blitz. And each time I either tackled the ball carrier or made them scramble in the backfield so the play got screwed up and they lost yards. It was my finest defensive moment of my high school football career! And it never would have happened without this song.

Now, each time I hear the thunderous guitar of the opening bars of Metal Health on the radio, I turn the volume all the way up, scream out the lyrics, and get psyched up all over again. Sounds crazy? Exactly! Metal health'll drive you mad!

150. Windows of Heaven

150. "Barracuda" by Heart

Two vehicles are inextricably connected to many fond memories of my teenage years--Old Blue and The Cuda. While there are a number of songs I associate with Old Blue--especially songs by Meatloaf--there isn't any particular song on the radio that makes me want to belt out its name. Not so for The Cuda. Thanks to the Wilson sisters, every time I hear the opening 30 seconds of "Barracuda," I'm transported in my mind to a highway leading out of Arimo with me in the back seat or, preferably, riding shotgun, with Joe at the wheel slamming down the gas pedal with his foot and looking out the windshield with an expression on his face that says "I OWN this road!"

I've probably got the wrong model year pictured here, but that's the back window I've got in my head.

Yes, I know the song is not about the car. It's about music industry sleaze-bags. Still, when Ann sings out "Barra-Cu-da!" I'm belting out the word too with nothing in mind but cruisin' Arimo in a white Plymouth Barracuda with a giant wrapped-down back window.

My friends' cars were part of who they were individually and who we were as a group. There was as much Old Blue in Sheldon as there was Sheldon in Old Blue. The same went for the Cuda, a fact that David Jane found out when he tried to pick a fight with you at a churchball game. You really wanna fight David? I don't think so. If the Cuda revs up in the middle of a brawl, you're going to end up roadkill! I also remember riding around in Chris's car--an Uncle Wayne gift that said "I love you so much, grandson, that I'm going to keep you safe by making sure you don't ride around town in Old Blue anymore."

Now, I'm very grateful that my father has always been good about making sure I've had a vehicle to drive. In fact, I've been driving one of Dad's pickups for the last ten years. But I never had a car of my own during my teenage years. I never had a vehicle that merged with my own personality and became part of who I was. Instead, it was my friends' vehicles that wormed their way into my heart and became part of my being. And that's why whenever this song comes on the radio--and it does a LOT--I swear I smell just a little car exhaust flow into the cab, and if I happen to be on a highway, the hammer goes down as the radio volume goes up.

Oooooo! Barra-CU-da!

151. Everything's Up to Date in Kansas City!

151. "Short Skirt/Long Jacket" by Cake

Begins with trumpet high note. Check.

Catchy bass riff. Check.

Funky beat. Check.

Rattlesnakey sound. Check.

Ironic lyrics about men's chauvanistic ideas on what makes a "perfect" woman. Check.

Extended pause.                                                                                          Double-check.

Sing/shout-along chorus. Check.

Extremely clever simile. Check.

Trumpet solos. Check.

Na-na-na-na-na-nahhhs. Check.

Ends with trumpet high note.

Oh, this is has got soooooooo much good stuff in it! Who wouldn't absolutely LOVE this song?!

Apparently, Cake wanted to find out.



My first reaction to this song was similar to Robert L. Clark's--"Damn! This is good!" I knew right away that I would like the song, but what propelled it into the top 200 was the ingenious line "With fingernails that shine like Justice." That line, and the rest of this song, made me laugh involuntarily laugh through the first listen, and I still crack a smile every time I hear it, partly because it reminds me of all those ridiculous women I had to deal with in Kansas City that dedicated their lives to climbing the corporate ladder (by touring the facility and picking up slack) and all the men that wanted to bed (but not marry) women like that. I'm so glad I quit that job!

Anyway, even though I'm really a pie guy at heart, I have to admit it--I likes me some of this Cake!

152. Where and When?

152. "Right Here, Right Now" by Kiss Fat Boy Slim Zach Efron and Vanessa Hudgens Giorgio Moroder Sander van Doorn Jesus Jones




Nope. That's not it.



That's not it either.

 

Definitely NOT it!



Hmmmm. Giorgio looks a lot like Kylie Minogue.



Who the hell is Sander von Doorn?



Okay. That's more like it. Kind of. Can't find a good copy of the original music video for this song, but this particular lip-sync television performance is lame enough to be mildly entertaining.

When I told Julie this song made the cut she said, "Really?! Why?!" Good question, my dearest alt-rock muse!

When the Berlin Wall began to fall in November 1989, there was a sense that the world was about to change in a big way. About a year later, East Germany and West Germany unified. And about a year after that, during the summer of 1991, Jesus Jones had this song--Right Here, Right Now--hit the tops of the charts. With all of the former soviet states declaring their independence one after another, it seems only a matter of time before the U.S.S.R. would collapse. Then, on Christmas Day 1991, the Soviet Union disappeared and Boris Yeltsin became president of Russia.

While I don't remember much about Yeltsin, I do remember that he was quite a character. He was this old man that said whatever he wanted to say and didn't show much restraint in his personal behavior. And he really didn't care much about what all of his radical changes to the government would do to his country. We will never see the Russians elect a president like him again.

Uhhh. Well, maybe they will...someday...maybe.

By the end of 1991, the Cold War world I had grown up in was gone. After that, America was left as the only remaining superpower, and that meant only one thing--I could finally come out of my underground bunker and run a marathon!

Of course, it took me about 5 years after that before I got in good enough shape to run one. But as I stood at the starting line of the St. George marathon amongst thousands of excited people just waiting for the race to begin, the breathy voice of Jesus Jones blasted from the starting line speakers. I remember thinking "Yes! Right here. Right now. This IS the only place I wanna be-EEEEE!" And shortly after the song ended, the starting gun rang out, and thousands of eager, energetic runners cheered and galloped down the desert road in unison. What a rush!

And thirty minutes and five miles later I began to walk, and I remember thinking to myself, "Why am I here right now?" Holy Moses! It hurt so bad!

But I kept on going--walking and running and walking and running and walking and walking and walking--and just didn't stop until 21.2 miles and four hours later, when I hobbled across the finish line.

So this song does double duty for me. First, it reminds me of the passing of my youth and the old world order where the Russians were considered the evil arch-enemies of America--Oh! How I miss those days! And it also reminds me of that sweet adrenaline rush of the first few minutes of my first marathon--something that felt so good I ended up running two more marathons later in life, including one with you, Hondo Joe! So if you've ever wondered who was to blame for all that pain you felt while dragging yourself through Cache Valley with me on a 26.2 mile run, you now know the answer--it was all because of Jesus.

153. Island Girl!

153. "I'm Too Sexy" by Right Said Fred

If there was ever a perfect song for public cross-dressing activities, it's this one. If we'd had this song in 1984, it definitely would have replaced "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" as the Mz. Marsh Valley workout song. I got married in 1988--about three or four years before this song began to hit the charts--so for me, this song has always been one of those goofy but infectious tunes I can play and make my wife crack up by dancing in a very un-sexy way. It's tailor-made for strutting and booty-shaking and hip-thrusting and rubbing your chest with your hands and dozens of other things that overweight, middle-aged men should never, ever attempt in front of others but still do because when the bass beat gets going, it's almost impossible not to indulge your inner Zoolander.

There's not too much else to say about this song that wasn't already covered in The HondoJoe Top 200. This song came in at only #174 on that list. But I think I found something that could move it up that chart a few places. Behold! The power of Dawn Wells!

154. Dude Looks Like a Lady!

154. "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" by Cyndi Lauper

While the reaction of parents and school patrons to "The Thriller" drill team controversy may have been meant to send out a strong message that it was morally wrong for young women to dance in public while wearing tight-fitting women's clothes, the public's reaction to the Mz. Marsh Valley contest sent out an even stronger message that it was A-OK for young men to dance in public while wearing tight-fitting women's clothes, but only as long as they wore wigs and fake boobs while they did it. I have already chronicled much of my remembrance of the pageant in my write-up for song #189: Maple Leaf Rag. But I did not mention that we all had to learn a really lame Jane Fonda-esque workout routine to the song "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" by Cyndi Lauper. I don't remember the dance moves now. I think that's in part because I didn't remember them back then either. Much of the unintended comedic moves I performed in that routine arose organically out of my inability to memorize the elaborate sequence of moves that some girls on the drill team had made up for us. Although, in my own defense, I don't think my botched dance moves could have been any worse than the dancing in the music video for the song.



Watching the video now brings back fond memories of coming home from school to find my depressed aproned mother cracking two dozen eggs in a bowl for no apparent reason, because the only other thing she had out on the counter to cook with was a box of corn flakes.  Of course, they were no ordinary corn flakes. These cornflakes had the ability to pour themselves! (Check out the video at the 00:41 mark to see what I mean.)

From what I can tell from the video, girls in the early 80s found it fun to (a) twist the arms of obese, shirtless men with Jerry curls; (b) talk on the phone; (c) engage in small-group synchronized movements while sitting on bleachers; (d) become trapped in the Phantom Zone; (e) watch hunchbacks carry unconscious women into cathedrals; (f) put on sunglasses; and (g) dance in an every increasingly longer conga line down the middle of a street lined with obviously unemployed men into a New York subway that leads to the court-house steps and then all the way back to their pink-walled bedrooms where they can have a confetti party. Yep. That's exactly what girls did for fun in the early 80s. For boys to have fun, they had to engage in publicly sanctioned cross-dressing activities.