So… this is something different.
But for those of you that don’t know… I was a huge Van Halen fan. And when I say Van Halen, I mean Van Halen, à la Roth… Not to be confused with today’s Van Halen/Roth version that threatens to still exist as a live band. But no. Before I go and get all ahead of myself, I really need to clarify. I was a fan. I had my haircut to fashion Eddie Van Halen’s signature coif. I danced around on my bed … nearly breaking bones attempting perfect split jumps while often times hitting my head on the ceiling. My friend David had a Van Halen tee shirt that his older sister, my babysitter, had scored at an ACTUAL CONCERT. David claimed to have been named after David Lee Roth, which we all know was a huge lie — although how much fun to tell!
I fell in love with the smoking angel on the album cover… scandalous, I know. It was 1984. The album was 1984 — I was a HUGE fan of 1984… and I was eight years old.
The just don’t airbrush ‘em like the used to.
I was a huge 1984 Van Halen fan…. And there wasn’t anything raunchy about this. There weren’t gross things going on in my life. I listened to and memorized every lyric and dance move that I could muster (yeah, I said muster) out of pure enjoyment. They were fun. The music rocked, and admittedly — I had no idea what was going on. I didn’t know what it all meant… big hair, women, angels smoking cigarettes, booze… SYNTHESIZERS. I didn’t know very much ANYTHING about the Van Halen family, the music industry, SEX, drugs…. the whole show. And how could I have — at eight years old, in between outgrowing Barbies and an increasing horse obsession, my version of the 1984 Van Halen fit in PERFECTLY…. no stress, no expectations — and apparently, no glory.
Because I moved on in my life, as often happens — and unfortunately, Van Halen attempted to do the same. 1984 was, by all means popular, the band’s last big album… despite the new lead singers and top selling albums. And as I maneuvered through the 80′s, 90′s and beyond… I continued to label myself as a Roth version Van Halen fan…. not realizing what I really was — a 1984 fan.
AND THERE’S NOTHING WRONG WITH THIS.
But honestly, it has taken me a few weeks to come to terms with this realization… this befuddlement that started off with me reading excerpts of Sammy Hagar’s new book in Rolling Stone and the New York Post… As my eyes boggled out of my head at accusations of, for lack of a better term, IMPERFECTIONS on the part of the Van Halen brothers. And while I am not one to spew vulgarities, I am not above understanding, hearing and KNOWING them…But how were all of these things actually possible? Well, after reading RED, My Uncensored Life in Rock, by Sammy Hagar, I still have my doubts.
Now… I’m going to tread a little lightly here. Obviously, I am dealing with a very accomplished and self important man. But in my limited opinion, based on this book, Sammy Hagar is a buffoon. Like a real one. One that hangs from trees and takes things from other buffoons because he wants to see how they react. He’s annoying. Really annoying. One of those guys that no one can stand to be around… you can’t quite figure out what it is about him that’s so horrible — but then it becomes obvious… it’s the whole package… The Poser. The Tool. The WANNABE. And I’m sorry if you like him… because, yes. He has been successful to an extent. But with this book, you have to wonder at who’s expense has all this fame sucked dry? Because EW. Really really EW. And no, there isn’t a better way to put it.
But still, I bought the book. I paid actual money for it because our local library was afraid of bursting into flames upon its purchase. I opened the cover and spent, I KID YOU NOT, less that six hours total in reading… some of the time I had to reread paragraphs because of the grammar (and you know what a grammar BUFF I am, not)… while most sentences would have been more articulately spoken from my three year old’s lips. I felt cheated. Dirty. ANGRY EVEN that this fame dog chose to not only blame every other person he’s ever known for anything and everything that has ever happened to him… TELLING ALL while not leaving out the EMBELLISHED… BUT, he also failed to acknowledge those that actually added to his success… the Van Halen brothers, family members, wives, other band members, AND the unsuspecting residents of Cabo San Lucas — of which Mr. Hagar eludes to “discovering” before opening his famed (and smelly — I once allowed my toe to pass the threshold) club, Cabo Wabo.
And who am I to cast an opinion. A fan of 1984… someone that was way too young to understand the music but loved it anyway? I don’t know Sammy Hagar. I don’t know the Van Halen brothers either… but if given the choice of who to hang with… who to appreciate as the “artist” versus listening to someone blather on about the bad times of others while I tooting their own tequila label… I’d take the brothers any day — alcohol, money troubles and all… I bet I could bundle it all up, put a bow on it and make it look pretty, much to Mr. Hagar’s chagrin.
Because, not only do I want my $14.95 back — on top of my six hours of valued reading time. But I’d also like to snuff out the airhead that decided this book was a good idea…. write our own tell all about how annoying it is to waste time on the audacity of whiners who really think they look good in the color red on top of being who they are… because they wrote a book about it… And I read it, dammit.
