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A Mid Life Crisis that slips towards darkness

. I ran ten point seven miles today and thought I broke the eleven mile mark, but no. It’s amazing how close I was to ten point six from two weeks ago. I’m feeling beat. I can’t imagine how I will accomplish 13.1 on Saturday but with some coffee and will power I can do it. It was so warm today I ran without a shirt on. My back is feeling a little tender from the sun. Midlife crisis, I looked at the CD’s I bought and most are punk bands from the eighties. I remember Ron Phillips and his collection which I’m slowly putting together. The Germs record I lent to some kid back in the late eighties that I’d like to get back, maybe this is my Rose Bud moment? The collection consists of albums I’d never purchase before for instance Black Sabbath, Led Zeppelin and The Misfits. I know more about Black Sabbath, but the Misfits have always been a mystery to me. Margo Scwardon had a rare 45 of The Misfits back in 1884, the colors of the eyes were colored with magic marker. But the sense that they are evil and like Black Sabbath and AC/DC is an issue I have wrestled with for years. When I was an impressionable young teen my brother and I watched a Christian program. The speaker was young and looked cool and we could relate to him. His message was clear, there are bands that are evil and we shouldn’t listen to them. AC/DC for instance stood for Anti Christ and Devil’s Children. KISS, stood for Kings In Satan’s Service. Rush was evil and so was Van Halen, Running with the Devil was his example. So, my brother and I lived sheltered lives. Walking home in junior high I listened to Back in Black with John Zuenges on his hand held ghetto blaster, disturbing the neighbors as we slowly walked past their sedated homes. Ozzy was evil and I saw the effects on the impressionable minds in my youth in the opposite direction, there was a gang of kids in high school, Knights of the Black Circle who had painted pentagrams on the back of their faded blue denim jackets. Later that summer there was a murder in our town. I knew both the victim and the killer who committed suicide in jail. While he was high on angel dust and stabbing the victim, he told the dying boy to say, I love you Satan. Before he died he sat up and said, I love you mom. That was a summer that changed my life and saw how the power of drugs and evil can corrupt an impressionable mind. The town became synonymous with the killing and for years held the stigma. I will listen to the music without judgment. May Gary rest in peace.


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