For the Soundtrack of Your Life Challenge |
I know the Rolling Stones aren't really a "guilty" pleasure. But hear me out on this song. While I really love the entire almbum, because there are tracks that remind me of places and people. It came out when I was a teen and it was almost like it was the first Stone's album we could call our own. To boot, it was critically acclaimed, and said to be their best work since 1972. The song that always gets me bopping is this one. Other emotions are all over this disc, but this one makes sing and whatnot. It shouldn't. It's all written by Kieth Richards, who does the vocals, and it's about losing friends, addiction and rehabilitation. It shouldn't a a toe-tapper, but to me... well, take a listen. Just to let you know, I was set to go see this concert tour. But some "issues" got in the way that summer that made it quite impossible. Perhaps someday I'll write about all that, too. You never know! All the people I knew at that time were Flyer fans. We would go to games in groups of twenty or thirty, mostly younger guys, but a few gals and some older men. Just as mean, the gals and old men. When they'd play in NYC, lots of us would take the train to The Garden, and Shattered was a rock down on their whole city. Back then, we knew they're probably a fight. Once one started by saying, "Don't mind the maggots!" But, aside from a couple broken bones and gashes, no one every got shot or stabbed. Different world, perhaps... One guy I knew just barely got a ring to the head, cut him good, and those things bleed. He would not let the NYC paramedics touch him. Everything was calm, no charges were pressed, and I walked up to the scene. "Him! Get him!" He was pointing at me. The smell reminded me of pennies as always. His jersey was soaked. I walked over. "What's going on?" "He won't let us touch him. He can't travel with that wound." The paramedic told me quietly. "He thinks you're all Ranger fans." I told him. "Not sure why he wants me." "Hey, hey!" I said to the patient. "Who are you?" "John James." Second off Spencer. "You sewed up my kid, JJ." "So I did. These guys are trying to help you, John James. Let then." He roared. No worthless such and such was going to... you get the picture. "Okay. I'll do it. Peg! Hand me my pack." I took out some tools and thread. "So, I'm going to have them give you Lidocaine to numb you up." "No way, "He responded. "None of their drugs!" "Okay, well, then this is going to hurt... a lot. You're drunk, so you're bleeding more, but perhaps it'll help with pain." "Dish it! I'm good!" "Just the same." I had to big guys hold his head. "You can't move." He yowled at the first stitch. It was slow, but I got a thumbs up from the paramedic. Firmly held, I handed him the tools and he was done in under a minute. We also snuck a needle antibiotics into may bag, to use moments later. I missed that concert, but I did learn a few things dealing with the "issues" the summer before. |