I was standing next to the keg at a party in late June. There was a boy wearing a Ren and Stimpy shirt. Of course I took it upon myself to comment on his excellent choice of apparel. I didn't know that three months later I would have his band's album sitting on my desk in front of me, waiting to be reviewed.
The most unappealing thing about neighboring Lawrenceville is the gated prep school for the rich and "gifted."
Still, although it is easy to be put off by high school kids with Vera Bradley bags and Izod Polo shirts, don't pass up the better qualities of Main Street.
We are in a stage of music where pop-punk bands are as abundant as hair bands were in the late '80s and early '90s. A tattooed pretty boy with zero gauges in his ears and a broken heart set to a catchy three-chord medley lurks around every corner. Thankfully, there are some exceptions that outshine the Skid Rows and Warrants of our time.
Summer was seemingly normal. There was the standard part-time job, days at the shore and at least one family function.
But there was one glaring exception to the mundane swelter. Over the airwaves a provocative, booty shaking anthem implanted its dance hall beat and ridiculous lyrics into my mind for the whole summer - "Cameltoe.
Finally, Carmen got kicked off American Idol. Each week I sat waiting by the TV, hoping this week would come. Everyone is allowed a few weaknesses, it just so happens that mine are chocolate mousse and the purely ridiculous 'American Idol.'
Think about all of the artists you like.
Where did Mr. Belding go? Why is it that I can see teen sensation Joey MacIntyre on "Boston Public," but I can't find that damn Mr. Belding behind any desk on TV?
It seems as though we have all forgotten the beauty of the 90s (intentionally or not) and that the focus today seems to be on the 80s and all of those other decades I can't remember.
It is painful to look back on that 10-year span of my life known as the 90s. But, despite the ludicrous fashion choices, the first decade I can remember from start to finish wasn't so bad. VH1 may love the 80s, but I love the 90s.
I will even shout it from the rooftops or with the gigantic megaphone left over from 80s One-Hit-Wonder Toni Basil: "I LOVE THE 90s.
A year ago I wrote my first column about living my life like the movie "Almost Famous." I figured, if Jesse Camp could be a V.J., I could certainly be a rock journalist. I write this column after all, how much harder would it be to write for an actual rock publication?
Being suffocated by piles of unreviewed CDs and little time to think about what I want to write was not what I expected when I signed on to write for a new online music magazine, Crusher.
In the warm yellow glow of Joyce's kitchen, I flipped through the New York Times magazine, which was separated from the Sunday edition of its accompanying paper and tossed on the countertop. Nothing inside usually interests me. The green tea article a few months back was fascinating.
There is nothing like having a pack of fifteen-year-old girls practically tearing down the backstage door because they think you are making out with a guitar player. Sorry to disappoint all of you darling high school students, but I was interviewing Mike Kennerty from The All-American Rejects, not making out with him.
Everyone is talking about Michael Jackson these days. We are about to go to war with Iraq, yet the covers of the newspapers feature Jackson's antics and "Joe Millionaire" sweetheart, Zora on a regular basis. If the King of Pop is the talk of the town, what is stopping me from giving into the temptation, as well? Absolutely nothing.