I’m going to be trite and post about Adam Yauch tonight like pretty much every other blogger in the world. The Beastie Boys were part of the soundtrack of my life growing up. In the age before Google, imagine how mindblowing their lyrics were. I had no idea what they were talking about and who could I possibly ask? All I knew is that it made me happy…made me feel kind of cool. I was a nerdy white girl from the sticks and I found something wild and unlike anything else I had in my CD collection. (I’m going to pretend here that I had CDs and wasn’t still rocking the cassette tape. Let it go.)
I can’t believe Paul’s Boutique came out in 1989. Mostly because it followed me all the way through college and I still love it today. The only other band with that kind of history in my world is R.E.M. I was in 8th grade in 1989. That also blows my mind.
It’s weird to be so bummed over the death of someone I never met. Maybe I’m grieving the loss of my youth. Or maybe that there won’t ever be another Beastie Boys album and kids today are going to think that Justin Bieber is good music. (Pardon me while I go hurl.) But I’m going to be a little sad this weekend -- as difficult as that may be rocking out to all the Beastie Boys albums.
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The smell is funk, minerals, dirt and grass. It drinks tart and lemony and funky and finishes clean and crisp. Delicious. I’m going to finish this beer and celebrate the fact that my taste and smell are working again. Cheers!
p.s. I couldn't post this post without dropping a “fuck cancer” on the world. So there. Fuck you, cancer. You suck.
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