03:44 PM on 10/05/11
Eight miles high and falling fast
At least you did, that's all that matters.
I remember the DJ refusing my request to play Dammit at the 8th grade dance. Said the song was too vulgar for such virgin ears.
As for My Chemical Romance, well, now that's another story entirely so children, let us all gather 'round the campfire. I had seen bits and pieces of this vampire rock concoction that had emerged from the sewers of New Jersey, and while Mr. Geoff of Thursday was quite high and mighty on them, I wasn't sold. It seemed as if it was a gimmick, zombie-Ziggy Stardust ripoff looking to exploit the feeble minds of America's youth. But as I paid more attention and delved deeper into the labyrinth of the world of chemical romances, I realized there were far more powerful and nefarious forces at work. (It should be noted that up until this point all I had known regarding romance was the Swiss Army type, so this was a dramatic departure for me.)
My relationship with My Chemical Romance took a dramatic step forward upon their release of the video Helena. Was it the vampire makeup? Was it the stunning choreography? Was it the monumental combination of jazz hands and umbrellas? Perhaps. Perhaps not. Looking back, I feel that all the pieces were finally connected upon my realization that the extremely visually pleasing dancer representing Helena of Troy was none other than the daughter of Buffalo Bills football coach Wade Phillips. Being a die hard Buffalo Bills football fan since my days of dancing around in a Bills infant sized onesie as my parents wept over Scott Norwood's missed field goal in the Super Bowl against the New York Giants, I realized only one thing could be responsible for this outrageous and sensational connection. That, ladies and gentlemen, is what we call destiny. Fucking fate. You can't make that shit up if you tried.
Also, hanging out with Thursday backstage on the last tour with them and MCR, I asked to say hey to the guys in MCR before they went onstage. The security lady told me to get fucked. I ignored her existence, but Mikey came to the rescue and said hello to me in a timely fashion, and Gerard followed. We had a charming discussion, Mikey asked if Jared Kaufman still worked for AbsolutePunk, and I laughed out loud, all the while overwhelmed by the fact that I had just taken a piss in the same urinal as the guys from My Chemical Romance.
Sometimes the stars align just right...
Haha, cool story... :)