.38 Special

This past school year has been interesting to say the least. After speaking with a few of the veteran experts, I have come to find out that it is actually quite normal. That is, what occurred and my reaction to it. Oddly enough, it coincided with my discovery actually it was my rediscovery of some of my old albums from my teen age years. But, before too much explanation can occur, the scene must be set…
Coming off of a pretty spectacular year that marked my return to public education after a hiatus in Catholic schools…much needed by the way, the sophomore venture did not bode as well. While I literally got to hand pick my schedule…to some extent…It seemed as if the stars were not in alignment or something. Regardless of the reason, it was a horrible year. It was bad enough, that I seriously contemplating r-entering military service. Yes, mustering back into the Army with a full fledged war raging the Middle East. Yep…That’s just how good of a year it was. My principal didn’t help much either.
Anyway, combing through my lost ‘80s albums and blowing dust off of the likes of Bruce Springsteen and Lynrd Skynrd, a little ray of light broke through the clouds. Of course, none of this would have been possible without the technical expertise of my friend and co-worker who just so happened to be the school’s orchestra director. Are you sensing what the next “aha” will be, dear reader? It is indeed true…The possession of a turntable in his classroom added to the adolescent giddiness of listening to these albums. However, undertaking an adventure such as this must be done with the utmost safety. A rigorous schedule was debated upon, set in place, and strictly adhered to during our daily lunch together.
Throughout his years as an orchestra director, my friend had purchased numerous classical albums to share with his students. It makes sense. I, while holding a liberal arts degree from my undergraduate days, was woefully undereducated in a musical sense. Since I like to incorporate as much of the arts into my history classes, my friend agreed to tutor me during our lunches. Of course, the details were left to the sides and most tutorials were in the form of informal conversations over warmed up leftovers while listening to a particular classical masterpiece. Suited me just fine.
Yet, classical was not to be the weekly mainstay for long. Music has always served as some sort of metaphysical balm for me. It just has. Whether it defies explanation for not, I don’t know and really do not care to know. I think too much analysis just might spoil some of the mystery and in the end most of the enjoyment. I was pleased to find out that my friend was a jazz fan. It came about rather serendipitously as he was burning copies of practice discs for the students. He had some Dixie Land and rag time jazz lounging under one of the many piles leaning on his desks.
Soon, Hayden and Bach made way for the Dukes of Dixie Land, Jelly Roll Morton and Scott Joplin. I found, rather bluntly, that tastes in jazz run about as circuitous and random as those in most other musical genres. Imagine my surprise when my friend went on a tirade about Miles Davis and John Coltrane as we were discussing our appreciation of jazz. This brought the discussion to an interesting halt as my next remark was to offer to bring some of my Coltrane and Davis to listen to the next day during lunch. Luckily, my mind caught my mouth, truly a miracle in my experience, and I did not make the offer. Therefore, it did not have to be embarrassingly withdrawn.
Needless to say, our classical consumption varied from week to week and even day to day, especially after Spring Break and the TAKS test. Ugh! Where does the ‘80s southern rock group fit into the picture I am sure you are asking. The answer is simple and direct…Fridays. No, not the chain restaurant rather the day of the week. Fridays were our ‘80s rock days. Of course, we did have a few refugees from the late ‘70s, but there really didn’t need to be a strict entrance policy as far as we were concerned. The only qualifications were round, vinyl and playable. The rest was up to pure chance as to whether the album would be played in its entirety or quickly shuffled off and deftly replaced by another. I suppose it was something akin to our own version of the “Gong Show.”
The Friday that I place the .38 Special album “Tour De Force” and set the needle to it, everything stopped. My blood pressure dropped and I think I smiled at work for the first time in months. It was sheer bliss. Of course the music was, and will always be awesome, but to add the pops and light scratches in the background that it the trademark of all albums was pure rapture. Of course, my friend loved the music as well. Being younger, it was a band that he was not quite as familiar with. It was now my turn to educate him. Ah, yes…the wonders of Southern rock in all of its manifestations. I can almost smell the magnolias with the moss hanging from their boughs. Well…enough of that, for now.
The album would be a mainstay of our Friday repertoire. Perhaps it was the following incident that made this group and their wonderful album suspect with our principal. After first introducing my friend to this newfound wonder from the ‘80s, only getting to listen to one side completely, the bell that ended lunch rang. Entering the crowded hallway amongst the students and teachers, my friend remarked at how he liked the album and wanted me to bring it back next week. I let out a laugh and remarked that sometimes all you need is a .38 Special. Little did I know that the principal was in ear-shot. I quickly assured her that no actual firearms were used during lunch. In fact, I was glad I had the album in hand to prove my innocence. However, this did not squelch the playing of .38 Special or any other ‘80s music during lunch. By the time the school year was winding down, our lunches were mainly filled with Dixie Land jazz and album rock. Oh, well…so much for education in the classical sense. Oddly enough, we did hit a few of the state standards in music education for those students who were lucky enough to be in the room during lunch with our albums spinning. I doubt seriously, however, any DJ gigs will be coming our way. It better…most parties go past my bedtime anyway.