Santeria by Sublime

Before walking down today's memory lane, I decided to make sure I wasn't sharing any secret society-type information.  In fact, the Cal Band Alumni Association's website details it all pretty well.  Too well, actually, and I am not so sure this is a good thing.  Back in my day....I am clearly getting old....there was none of this highly documented, easily accessible wealth of information on the "internet".  The majority of my first month or so in the Cal Band was spent going along for the ride, doing what I was told and going where I was told.  In fact, what made today's memory so special was the element of surprise.  When I received the invitation inviting me to attend the Silent Walk, wearing something dressy (I was dubious about this and thought it might be a mean trick, considering our last "secret" outing involved paint and climbing hills), the Oldmen's lips were sealed and they wouldn't share anything with us, other than it was going to be a special night.  They were right.  Without keeping you in further suspense, here goes. 

The Silent Walk was held the evening after the first show at the first home game.  Tonight's memory actually took place during my Senior year.  I felt super sophisticated, first of all, being a senior, and second of all because I was wearing an outfit that I had purchased in Barcelona.  It was this lacy, strappy, barely there, top with some light grey slacks.  I probably also had my gorgeous suede, belted jacket with a faux fur collar.  I was obsessed with it.  The Oldmen's role during the Silent Walk is to meet at Memorial Stadium.  The Newmen are already in a circle and we file around them.  They turn around to see us and we then pin them, making them official members of the Band.  It is pretty special for both sides.  Following the pinning, we watch the footage of the show and then attend the first big party of the season.  My Newman year was at the Greek Theater which cannot be topped, but that was not repeated during my tenure.  Senior year we went up to TH to dance, drink, carry out traditions, and celebrate the night away. 

Now I had been away for an entire year and while I may have been wearing a very Barcelona outfit, I had also lost out on a year of American culture and of course, all the events of the prior year in the Cal Band.   A fun song came on and my dear friend Marek A invited me out to the dance floor.  He explained that it was Sublime, THE band of the year.  He just couldn't believe I had never heard them.  I had a lot of catching up to do.

I Don't Care if the Sun Don't Shine by Patti Page

2 girls, driving down Highway 80 after a day playing hooky on the slopes.  This is one of the very few positive memories I have of my first adult roommate. She and I had decided to join Mitch C, Jenny T, and Vince J on a spontaneous weekday ski adventure at Northstar.  It was not a terrible drive up there, probably about 3 hours from San Francisco, and not a ton of traffic considering it was reverse commute on a weekday.  We spent the day skiing and boarding, enjoying a midday beer and lunch in the sun at the top of the mountain.  In the pictures we aren't even wearing coats, so I am guessing it was spring skiing.  We probably stopped at the Chevy's in Auburn on the way home, as was the tradition. 

On the way home, Lydia was driving, it was her car after all, and we were really into this song off the Priscilla, Queen of the Desert soundtrack.  We liked it so much that we sang it over and over (and over) at the top of our lungs, improving our harmonies, getting in tune, sounding better every time.  There was gesturing, smiling, laughing.  In fact, when I saw the How I Met Your Mother episode with the Fiero (500 Miles), I thought it was a lot like that.  I remember being very impressed with ourselves by how great we sounded.  It was a fun end to a very fun day. 

Brass Monkey by the Beastie Boys

It was one day after school at the Rec Center.  Trudi L. was teaching Colleen B. a dance routine she had learned in dance class.  For some reason, I wasn't taught the dance.  I remember really wanting to learn, but for some reason I was delegated to pushing play and rewinding over and over so they could practice.  It was totally the song of the moment and I loved it, but I had no idea what on earth they were singing about.  A brass monkey?  What could that be?  Cool dance, cool song, cool by association (I hoped).  The following track, Slow and Low, begins almost immediately after Brass Monkey, almost like the song continues with a part 2, so I always heard the beginning of it, but we never listened to it.

At the time, my mom was living with her cousin Joan.  Joan was dating Reuben who had 2 teenage sons.  They were just about the coolest embodiment of what you would picture today when you picture a teenage boy in the late 80s.  Pegged pant leg acid washed jeans?  Check!  Neon?  Check!  Awesome hair?  Check!  The older son had this super cool, long on top, flip kind of thing going on and the younger had a perfect flat top.  Name brand high tops?  Check!  I am sure they thought I was totally annoying, but I definitely wanted to share (read: show off) that I listened to the Beastie Boys and of course, they did, too.  When I said that I had never heard Slow and Low, they played it for me.  They also played Time to Get Ill which they liked and I remember when I first heard the Mr Ed sample in the middle of the song.  That put me over the top.  I couldn't think of a more clever, creative thing for a band to do. I agreed with them that it was a great song.

For the record, years later...an embarrassing number of years later...I did finally figure out that Brass Monkey is a cocktail.