How rude of me

I continually forget that many (most?) of my readers did not come of age in the early 1990s. I apologise for the last video if you didn't get it. I suppose if you aren't familiar with the original, or if, say, you are convinced that I'm an atheist burning a path to hell, you might think I was making a religious joke. I need to stop making vague references to bands half of my readers have never heard of. (I did this on Valentine's Day, too, but I thought everyone would have heard of Nirvana. Sorry.)

Here's the original:


The Gregorian guys didn't even change it all that much.

Metallica was pretty hot in 1992, at least with the people I hung out with. I was in ninth grade and was living with my maternal grandmother in what turned out to be a really bad idea for all concerned.

We lived around the corner from my friend Crystal and not far from two sophomoric sophomores named Billy and Jeremy. For the life of me, I can't remember their last names, but it is not relevant to this discussion. They were huge Metallica fans, and I suppose that's why I can't imagine going through life without being exposed to these guys: Sleep with one eye open, gripping your pillow tight! (Hmmm. Perhaps you guys weren't missing much, after all.)

Before that year, I'd lived in outport Newfoundland or with my other grandparents, who lived in a much more rural part of Dexter. Well, all of Dexter is rural, but my other grandparents lived at the end of a discontinued road, out by the lake. My maternal grandmother lived in what I suppose you could call the downtown, near the shoe shop. It was the first chance I really had to spend time with friends on weekends or during the evenings. We used to hang out on the road near Crystal's house and do...well, not much, really. There was lots of REM, lots of Metallica and lots of Pearl Jam, though. (Please tell me you guys have heard of Pearl Jam. You have, right?)