October 17th – How bad can it get?
John Inverdale at Wimbledon last summer; Janet Jackson at the
Superbowl; Tiger Woods in the back of his car; Hugh Grant in the back of his car; Alec Baldwin on the ’phone
not in the back of his car…?
Rock ‘n’ roll is a manly business; sorry, ladies, but that’s
just the way it is. It takes balls and furry-chested manliness to negotiate
your way through the maelstrom of slings and arrows that come your way; no room
for girlies here. The name-calling, back-biting and macho competition that goes
on would fell lesser mortals and certainly leave any lady gasping for breath,
it takes a tough cookie to handle it and that’s what men are, tough
cookies…unless they get a cold, of course, then even they sometimes buckle, and
who wouldn’t under such a strain and serious health-threat?
And when it does get to such a pitch what’s the answer? Well,
I’ll tell you what it’s not. It’s not having a manicure, a hair-wash and buying
a new pair of shoes; that’s real wuss behaviour, if I may say so. Nope, men
rocksters take the manly route; they inhale a wheelbarrow full of cocaine, sink
forty double malts and PARTY-ON BECAUSE WE’RE ROCK ‘N’ROLL MEN, THAT’S WHY!
Never mind all the symptoms telling you otherwise, dismiss them, stop those
girlie thoughts and roll another joint, you pussy!
John Cougar Mellencamp had an interesting if short career. Jack and Diane, voted one of the songs
of the century by the RIAA, was the hit that established his credentials in the
rock game with those busting power chords and tales of young love, shaggin’,
contemporary American life… and the terror of growing up in a country devoid of
morals. His political stance has been right-on throughout and he has tackled
head-on what he considers to be inappropriate use of his music for social and
political agendas.
When he was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame,
Billy Joel’s address to the assembled great and good went as follows:
Don’t let
this club membership change you, John (Mellencamp). Stay ornery, stay mean. We need you to be pissed off, and
restless, because no matter what they tell us—we know, this country is going to
hell in a handcart. This country’s been hijacked. You know it and I know
it…People need to hear a voice like yours that’s out there to echo the
discontent that’s also out there in the heartland.
Tough instructions from a tough guy (Mr. Joel) to
another tough guy (Mr. Mellencamp) and not a lassie in sight.
You have to be able to party hard, girls, to stay
the course, and us guys know you’d wilt at the first obstacle to a high heel
shoe or chipped nail. Hospitalisation is as nothing to us manly rock stars, we
take it in our stride and gallop on to our next brush with death, like Mr.
Mellencamp did on this day in 1991.
During a high-profile radio promo at a local
radio station he suffered a series of dizzy spells and was rushed, amid sirens
and an escort, to the local hospital. It was a touch and go thing, near the
edge of human endeavour and endurance. When the analysis came back concerning
the drugs and nerve damage found in and
to his system, my guess is everyone was amazed he’d survived; certainly no
woman would have managed it. The doctors, on the steps of the hospital,
announced that Mr. Mellencamp would be under constant surveillance for some
time as he was suffering from, and I quote;
Too much
coffee, stress and NOT ENOUGH BREAKFAST!
Phew, close call there, John…party-on!
No comments:
Post a Comment