More thoughts on those damn bagpipes...

It came to me over the weekend: my continuing curiosity regarding Everlast. I really have a thing for this man. How odd is it that I foolishly, feverishly, moronically adored a guy whose huge hit was a song I could barely tolerate until I downloaded it last Thursday? The story, as I recall, began in 1991 or 1992.



Once upon a time, there was a thing called the Video jukebox. It basically churned out all the videos MTV and vh1 wouldn’t touch. You called in, paid your $2.99 per request (added to your phone bill), and waited for the “song” to show. Just like a real jukebox.



1991-92 was the time of my CUNY switchover from Staten Island to Brooklyn College. It was also the time of chicken pox, flu, Epstein-Barr and Chronic Fatigue Syndrome—in that order—so my memory on the exact time might be waaay off. I do remember clearly seeing two videos that were constantly requested almost back-to-back: “I Got the Knack” and “Swingin’ With T.” Every day for about a month, they came on at around the same time, 4 pm or so. With my afternoon classes ending at 2:15, I always made it home to catch the new “tune” of the week. I jumped at the chance to request plenty of goodies, much to the dismay of my mother, who plainly had a conniption with the added amount on the bill. Never mind the fact that I paid her in cash for when I called in. She blocked me from calling, plain and simple. Oh well. No more videos for me. This wasn’t a problem until I found myself anxiously awaiting 4 pm to see that guy in that video on my tv. I still can’t figure out what it was. The face? The swagger? The humor? Those damn green eyes? It sure was something. All I knew is there was never any videotape in my VCR to tape this guy. I also felt extremely stupid asking friends to call up for me. I didn’t want to share my crush with anyone, particularly not Terri or Janet, my two girlfriends at the time.



Embarrassingly enough, one day I missed my bus home. I ran in at 4:30, sweaty and exasperated. I flipped on the tv like a junkie waiting for my fix, and it did not arrive. I’d missed it. No video. Couldn’t request it, either. Mom's phone block. Terri, Janet and a few friends were going to a local hangout that night called Muffins. Terri’s friend, who we called “Germin”, was playing darts. “Why not go watch?”, Terri asked. “Ok,” I agreed, but at this point my day was utterly ruined. It was Friday and I’d have to wait until Monday again to see that video. My theory on why this never showed during weekends is that it was probably a high schooler who’d requested it while Mom/Dad wasn’t around. I mean NEVER showed. My weekend was empty. I went out as planned. No video. I sat. I pouted. I sulked and moped. No video. Terri, Tina, and Janet all looked at me and asked what was wrong. I told them sheepishly that my tv was not working very well. They looked at me like I was nuts. I did not say anything about that guy in the video. My night, and subsequent weekend, ended in a sea of disappointment.



Finally, this video began to fade. That highschooler probably got caught for adding to the phone bill just like I did, and it was barely played anymore. All good things come to an end, I thought. I moved on. No more guy from the tv.



Fast forward to 1992 when the sound of furious bagpipes surfaced in a song called Jump Around. The group was House of Pain. I heard it on the radio and promptly covered my ears. The repetitive screech was a bit much. My friends loved this song. I hated it. Those damn bagpipes! The banshee instrument! “TURN THAT OFF,” I begged when we went to bars, clubs, even drove in Tina’s car. My ears hurt. My head hurt. I could not escape that song.



Apparently, I couldn’t escape my crush. “Who the fuck sings that song?” I demanded.



“Some guy named Everlast,” was Terri’s reply.



“EVERLAST???? ARE YOU SHITTING ME????” I squealed, my heart rate soaring.



“What the hell’s wrong with you? Don’t you watch the Video Jukebox? That song is on every day. Stop squealing, you sound like you’re possessed!!!”



You got that right! My guy from the tv was BACK. No more 4 pm rushing, I just kept the damn channel on until Jump Around surfaced no matter what time it was. And then, it happened. The screech I hated. I took a deep breath and luxuriated in my seat. There he was. Looking like a mean hooligan. Sneering at the camera. Like he'd bite someone. (Let it be me?) The video is a series of St. Patrick’s Day images in black and white, if I remember correctly. Stuff I normally complain about, particularly little shamrocks painted on faces (ugh). But there he was. Goatee, green eyes. Intense. Deliciously menacing. I wanted to slather him in honey and put him on toast. And not just me—it seems most of the girls I knew all drooled over him, too. I felt superior, however, due to my previous Jukebox devotion. (Ok—OBSESSION.) I saw him first. Nya, Nya!



The song continued to annoy me, but I didn’t hate it that much knowing it was his song. He faded for a few years and then resurfaced in 1998. I saw a photo of him in Rolling Stone. My heart skipped a few beats. Still does. Some guys just do that to ya. It’s one of those “hell-if-I-know” things. And now who’s the hot white rapper of the day? Eminem. Cool guy, but let’s not kid ourselves about who did it first. And does anyone remember my guy from the tv (other than for his big fight with Eminem)? I wonder. Clear Channel owns everything, so I’m not expecting his newest digs to explode on the radio. If you’re over 25 and not pop, you don’t get airplay. The Video Jukebox is long gone, so once again, we are at the mercy of Britney and Justin on MTV and the flavor of the week show on vh1. It just sucks.



And I still hate bagpipes, always will. But, oh, those green eyes. Thank god for the internet. And memories. And iTunes. Wow-there goes my heartbeat again...