Flashback Friday: Sympathy for the Devil’s Music

This morning, as I was waking up, suddenly I was inspired– or actually maybe uninspired, since the meaning of inspiration refers to the divine. It doesn’t happen often: being inspired on my own. Usually, as I mentioned yesterday, I steal from other people, but this morning I actually came up with this one on my own.

So for today’s Flashback Friday, in honor of Halloween, I bring you the Devil himself (notice, no capitalization on “himself,” for Christians, that’s reserved for God Himself, but Devil, that’s okay to be capitalized) and his music.

I grew up in what many would consider a fundamentalist Christian home, meaning that I listened to Christian rock music (which I know might seem like an oxymoron to some of you, especially those of you who are fundamentalist Christians) and wasn’t allowed to listen to the “devil’s music.”

Now to country and western (not this new-fangled country mix of country, pop– no western– and rock), I was allowed to listen. Ironically, that is where I believe I was first exposed to the Devil– at least, directly, in the lyrics (my mom probably thought I and the rest of the country were exposed to him– notice, lower case “h”– through this seemingly innocuous but deceptively evil singer with his inviting lyrics):

Later in elementary school, a friend who lived in New Hampshire, the vortex of all that is evil (or so I’ve heard, well, very close at least in almost pure– talk about oxymoron– unadulterated evil percentage-wise to Delaware [1])), introduced me to this band:

and we all know what those letters mean:

Kids (how I first heard it) or Knights
In
Satan’s
Service

Never mind, that they weren’t kids, but I guess is that they were trying to spawn a nation of kids for Satan’s service. But I mean, really, look at that guy in that video (above) spewing blood. I mean, that is what their name had to mean, right? Wrong. Nevertheless, I even heard that Gene Simmons killed a puppy with his steel-heeled boots at a concert in Jersey– and since have learned that there were rumors he had a cow’s tongue grafted onto his own.

Later, of course, I learned that they couldn’t be that bad because after all, they sang about God and heaven!

In high school (notice, it was school where I was schooled in the ways of the Evil One), I was well on my way on the…

Hell’s Bells! If there ever was a personification of evil in the form of one band– let alone Angus Young with the seizures he’s experienced on stage, this was it. I mean, you could even call them at 36 24 36 hey to perform your dirty deeds.

Finally, in college, I came full circle musically when I went real old school and went back to the year of my birth when Evil reared its ugly head at a place called Altamont:

Post-college, I just became a devil without a cause…

…and, like the rest of the World (capital W), since have been seeking out my own Personal Jesus.

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[1] I think this alone shows that our country wasn’t founded by God, as some claim, with Delaware being the First State. I know my wife would agree.

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That’s the way, uh-huh uh-huh, I like it

The first time I heard KC & The Sunshine Band was in second grade in 1975 on a record player. For those of you too young to remember, a record player looked (and still do, if you can find them) like this:

Now that we were listening to this album might not have been so shocking — well besides the fact that we were in second grade listening to the original bump-n-grind music– except where I grew up was Pennsylvania. Specifically, I was born and raised in a rural part of the state where the main (no, only) ethnicity was white as a Saltine cracker box except for the occasional black Sambos in people’s yards.

(Just for clarification while KC was a white guy, Harry Wayne Casey, but as you can see from the video above, his band was made up of a multitude of ethnicities. Strangely enough, later, as teens, we dug this rap group too that literally broke down walls and this artist.)

The girl who introduced our class to the new LP she had just gotten, I think, for Christmas, was none other than one of my nemeses: Robyn Richards, whom I’ve mentioned previously after getting spanked by Leigh from Leighonline in Humor Blogs Fantasy League Football.

Robyn would beat up on me regularly. She would sit on me and spank me, which I think I liked it in a totally (yeah, right) prepubescent non-sexual way. Now in retrospect, I think maybe that’s the way, uh-huh, uh-huh, I liked it.

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