The problem with X-Mas music, is that very rarely, is it sung or performed by actual musicians. People play X-Mas music because its X-Mas, and not for any artistic merit that it may have. The record labels know that, and will mint a metric fuck-ton of CD’s every year of whatever scuzz they could scrape from soup kitchens and plasma centers to sing the same damn songs, over and over, because they know people will buy those discs without ever looking at them.

I remember back when I was at Miami, there was this one radio station that would switch to all all-X-Mas 24/7 format on November 1, and stay that way until January 1. That’s 16.71% of a goddamn year. I shared an office with this one chick who kept her radio on, and tuned to that station, even when she wasn’t there.

Because of this, I wanted to stab people in the face, all day, every day. After class, to prevent face-stabbing, and its legal repercussions, I would leave immediately, with a note on the door reading “Office hours have been canceled due to incessant X-Mas music.”

I asked her to please stop, but I was only met with the “You’re a Grinch who hates Christmas,” which would lead into the “you’re with us or against us” rhetoric that was popular at the time. If I wanted to hear that crap, I just would have hung out with out delusional neo-con department chair.

The only reprieve came from Bruce Springsteen and his E Street Band. Only the Boss knew X-Mas. Well, the Boss and Bowie.

Then I went home. My sister replaced her text-message ring tone with the Whos singing their Whoville song. So anytime she recieved a text, at maximum volume, her phone would blast:

“Fah-hoo-door-heys Dah-hoo-boor-hays… Fah-hoo-door-heys Dah-hoo-boor-hays…”

Ten seconds later:

“Fah-hoo-door-heys Dah-hoo-boor-hays… Fah-hoo-door-heys Dah-hoo-boor-hays…”

Ten seconds after that:

“Fah-hoo-door-heys Dah-hoo-boor-hays… Fah-hoo-door-heys Dah-hoo-boor-hays…”

This repeats until I go to karate, go to a bar, or leave to start the Spring semester. Sometimes she’ll take a nap on the other side of the house and just leave her phone on, so it just keeps going off until she answers it in a few hours, or until I snap and pull the battery in a few minutes.

Also, around 2000, for reasons known only to her — and in spite of all evidence, which only points to the contrary — my mom became suddenly and irrevocably convinced that Yoko Ono was the single best thing that ever happened to music.

Yes, you read that correctly.

My mom bought one of those cassette tapes of butt-ass horrible X-Mas music explicitly for “Happy Xmas (War Is Over),” and nothing else. My mom would play it as we came into the dining room for our Christmas Eve dinner, and when it ended, she would get up, go into the other room, rewind the tape, play it again, sit back down, and get up three minutes and thirty-seven seconds later to do it again.

After the fifth time, I dropped my fork.

“I can’t do this. I refuse to be part of a family which enjoys the music of Yoko Ono.”

“Oh come on, Ryan, why not?” said my mom.

“Because that malignant cunt broke up the Beatles!”

“Don’t use that word!” said my mom.

“Sorry. That vorpal cunt broke up the Beatles!”

My dad wanted to be mad, but couldn’t because he knew I was right. He used “Rocky Raccoon” as his CB handle back in the 70’s, and was the one who turned me onto the Beatles, and taught me the importance of hating Yoko Ono. The soundtrack of my high school years drew largely from Sgt. Pepper’s, so we were both offended, just I was more vocal about it.

All these stories went on in tandem, and became annual traditions, like the January 8^th Party, Mouthpiece Cleaning Day, or Indiscriminate Thursday. So once X-Mas degraded into Post-Halloween Psychological Torture Season, it became pretty easy to hate X-Mas. It became hard not too.

Fortunately, I no longer feel this way. Apparently, the rest of the universe must have felt as I did, because the then-novel Trans-Siberian Orchestra quickly became mainstream, and an annual favorite. On top of that, other artists followed suit, and began to produce much-needed unshitty X-Mas music. My sense of hope in mankind was momentarily restored in 2006 when it was announced that Billy Idol released a X-Mas album.

The only thing better than news of a Billy Idol X-Mas CD was Mike’s reaction to it. It went a little something like this:

Do you want to know what the real dicked up part about the Billy Idol X-Mas album is? Your grandma will love it. No, seriously:

I thought that was the non plus ultra of holiday-themed awesome. I thought wrong. A year later,  We Wish You a Metal Xmas…and a Headbanging New Year was released, featuring every single type of awesome. No, seriously it has:

• Ronnie James Dio and Vinny Appice (Dio; Black Sabbath)
• Tony Iommi (Black Sabbath)
• Lemmy (Motörhead),
• Dave Grohl (Nirvana; Foo Fighters)
• Billy Gibbons (ZZ Top)
• Geoff Tate (Queensrÿche)
• George Lynch (Dokken)
• Jeff Scott Soto (Yngwie Malmsteen; Journey)
• Chris Wyse (The Cult)
• Ray Luzier (Army of Anyone; Korn)
• John 5 (Marilyn Manson; Rob Zombie)
• Rudy Sarzo (Quiet Riot; Ozzy Osbourne; Whitesnake; Dio; Blue Öyster Cult)
• Scott Ian (Anthrax)
• Bruce Howard Kulick (Grand Funk Railroad; KISS)
• Carlos Cavazo (Quiet Riot)
• James “JLo” LoMenzo (Megadeth)
• Simon Phillips (The Who; Big Country; Toto; Asia; Pete Townshend; Jeff Beck)
• Tim “Ripper” Owens (Judas Priest)
• Steven J. Morse (Deep Purple)
• Tracii Guns (L.A. Guns; Guns ‘N’ Roses)
• Steve “Luke” Lukather (Toto)
• Joe Lynn Turner (Yngwie Malmsteen)
• Tommy Shaw (Styx; Damn Yankees)
• Kenny Aronoff (Cinderella, Bon Jovi, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Smashing Pumpkins)
• John Tempesta (White Zombie)
• Stephen Pearcy (Ratt)
• …and Alice Cooper

I mean, listen to this shit! It’s perfect!

If there’s one thing which Christian holy days need more of, it’s Black Sabbath.

(Yes, I know that Toto is totally not metal, but I don’t care. Toto IV is a great album.)

No seriously, that’s exactly what happened. Everyone was that blown away, and I’m not speaking metaphorically. Also, the resulting EMP bricked the camcorders.

Everyone has their story from high school and/or middle school that they would consider their best and most glorious. The moment that really defined who they are.

I would say this would have to be mine.

I still have the program and the issue of the school newspaper where I had my 15 minutes of fame and the moment where I finally felt that I had an identity aside from being the only guy with long hair in a world where guitar solos weren’t as in as they were 10 years prior. My damn scanner crapped the bed; otherwise there would be pictures to go with this.

Let’s just say I had an older sister, ten years older than me… who trained me as a puppy to get into Def Leppard when I was only three.
I’m not sure where my tastes would be otherwise. I loved loud guitar, I loved melody and I didn’t like introverted lyrics. I sure do now, but I got off on hating things that were in…especially in middle school. I was pretty bummed out a lot of the time, although I didn’t really notice until later on because I was so accustomed to it. I ditched a lot of school, because I was anxious out of my gourd (and not to point fingers but having a 5th grade science/math/SS teacher reading your absence excuses for the class to laugh at sure didn’t help). I didn’t go anywhere; I didn’t go somewhere “more fun” as the assistant principal put it. (Although I would pose the same question to me had I been in his position). I was simply in my room, playing guitar.

I didn’t have a band when I got a hold of the application to play at the talent show, but that didn’t stop me, my guitar heroes had slots in their band’s concerts where they would go off for 3-5 minutes which was something I busted my ass to get good at myself. I even drenched my sound in echo to simulate it.

I got the go ahead to perform but I had to write “Untitled” in the spot for the “song name” because I wasn’t going to play a song per se. I was just gonna go off with a loose format, so it really didn’t have a name, although it probably would’ve been more dramatic to have named it something….but anyway.

I think they had an idea what they were in for at the dress rehearsal, but at that point it was too late.

On the day of the show, I never felt more alive up to that point.
I even decided to go even further off the deep end by wearing a pair of Tasmanian Devil slippers and my Bruce Lee shirt randomly on the way out the door.

Liento Sensi played first, (I remember them well because I was sliding around dancing on the stage while they were playing…yeah…I was dancing….) then a few other performers. Then I came on.

So the juniors and seniors were in the auditorium, and everyone else watched it on closed circuit TV in classrooms. I had a Jackson Randy Rhoads and a few effect pedals (Cry Baby, Boss Metal Zone, Mxr Phase 90, and a off brand delay pedal that had a unique hall of mirrors feature)And I went off and asked everyone how they were doin on the mic while holding a trill down and got a huge reaction. A different part of me turned on for keeps at that moment. I didn’t get through half of the performance or get to my “good stuff” yet and I couldn’t hear my amp because of the reaction. It was a 100 watt amp with two speakers…and I was standing RIGHT NEXT TO IT. I heard “Crank it up Leroy!” So I did…not only because it seemed that there wasn’t a sitting person in the auditorium, or just because they liked it (except for this one chump who jealously had a stick up his ass because I didn’t “play enough chords;” one can only listen to so much Blackbird and ELO every morning…) but also because I could…not…HEAR IT…I meant well, but I watched administration and faculty alike stepping backwards in fright and horns everywhere. So I told the crowd to scream for me (I listened to and still do listen to a LOT of Iron Maiden…listen to a live album, you’ll hear it at least twice).

I finished the solo with a big blue power circle around my feet, with little stones rising up around me like in Dragon Ball Z, and a Van Halen-esque fret tapping lick.

The curtain closed, I shoved my hand between the folds and waved one more time (with the spotlight still on from what I’m told) and the MC of the show was REALLY upset when she saw me do that, but hell, I got some laughs out of it, which I would place under the entertainment category, so I’m not sure what she was so outta shape about…but oh well. I’m sure she just wanted things to run smoothly.

I had the most sickening feeling in my stomach after that because of the adrenaline (And the 3/4 of a large Pixy Stick that I pounded down my throat 5 seconds before playing…you know…the plastic ones that were about 3 feet long…yeah…) and was warmly greeted from the guys from Liento Sensi backstage.

The people who followed me…I felt for them, because I was hearing things like “we want Leroy back!” and such while they sang. Felt kinda bad about that…

I heard all kinds of stories after this.
- Boyfriends were jealous because the chicks were impacted by it somehow too (I’m not making that up…and dammit it was about time!!! Just kidding…)

- I heard there was supposed to be a curtain call at the end…didn’t happen…because of me…

- As far as I know, there were no more talent shows there until 2006 and you have to audition for it…because of me…

- I’m told there were a few teachers thinking I was gonna start a riot…mercy!!!

- I STILL 11 years later have people come up and say “Hey! Didn’t you play talent show in 1998?” and I would have NO clue who they are. It really makes me feel like shit because here they are remembering something like that, and I have no idea who they are, but flattering none-the-less and I try to look them up later in a yearbook.

- I pegged student of the week for it which I did a pretty dramatic video announcement interview for. Just ask Joe Cullers, it was completely off the chain.

The irony?

1. It was supposed to be videotaped, and the tape came out blank…so unless there’s a tape floating around that I don’t know about, (which I’d give damn near anything to get my hands on) You’re just gonna have to take my word for it…even the blue power circle on the stage…I hear I burnt a circle in the floor from the pure chi and they had it fixed before anyone knew.

2. It took me this long after that day to have a band that functions and works out.

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