Brad’s Corner

As a music fan the past two decades have been revolutionary.  Any song that has ever been created is now at our fingertips.  There’s no clunking around a large CaseLogic full of cd’s or placing a distractingly large faux wooden tower of them in the living room next to the entertainment center. This isn’t some plain nostalgic waxing about the good ol’ days.  It’s merely to point out that we used to have to work much harder at being a fan.  You had to actually go to a record store and purchase an album.  At the height of cd’s, that

The one thing that remains constant is music. The entire world has been on fire for the past six months, and the band plays on.  One could make all the band on the Titanic playing as it sinks analogies he or she wants, but it does not remove the irrevocable fact that it is true. Time and time again during all of the trials and tribulations we are all experiencing, music has been the thing we have all turned to.  There were blips of Tiger King and sports relaunching, but where television has looked different and movie theaters are nonexistent. 

“Man, that song sucks!” That was the response I got as I commandeered the state of the art Pioneer cd player in my buddy’s maroon Pontiac Grand Am to play him the brand new Foo Fighters record that had just come out. That was 25 years ago this week. My peer group was comprised of folks who loved 90’s country like Garth, 90’s hip-hop like Snoop and anything heavy metal. Pantera and Metallica were the top two favorites, but we all loved anything heavy and loud. We were also music snobs without knowing what that meant. Our conversations veered all

I came home from kindergarten one day and told my parents that my “girlfriend” had chased me down on the playground and tried to kiss me. They laughingly asked who she was, I said “Ebbie!” They followed the conversation through by telling me we shouldn’t be doing that.  They didn’t tell me that because Ebbie was African-American.  They told me that because we were five years old. I was raised in a podunk northern suburb of Waco, Texas called Elm Mott. Heart of the Bible Belt, smack dab in the middle of central Texas.  My parents were progressive for the