Most of the time when a musician screws up mid-gig, you feel kind of bad for them, like when Nick McCarthy screwed up nearly everything that could possibly go wrong in a performance of Evil Eye, all while looking generally depressed, or when someone from Interpol screwed up during their Spotify session performance of All The Rage Back Home. Those instances made me feel bad. Like a real person with human emotions and compassion and empathy. I don't feel bad for Van Halen in the video I am about to link. I feel no sympathy. I feel nothing. This video has rendered me emotionless, unable to react to whatever went down in Greensboro, North Carolina on this warm summer night in 2007. I was introduced to this video via a Cracked Spit Take video. I don't even know how I reacted when I first saw it. I think I just stared at my screen and didn't know whether I should laugh or just keep staring. I pretty much grew up listening to Van Halen. My dad was a teenager in the 80s and of course the music you listen to as a teenager sticks around so I heard a lot of them. It was also around the time of their big reunion and the induction of Wolfgang Van Halen as bassist. So, obviously, being five years old I thought Van Halen were the coolest people around. This video would have either crushed my dreams or just made me really, really confused.
Honestly, the video is kind of sad until David Lee Roth bounces around on a giant inflatable microphone for an extremely uncomfortable amount of time. I can kind of feel bad for Eddie, who is desperately trying to make the mess of a backing track sound like something, but that sympathy fades away when David starts walking away from the main part of the stage. That's when the reality of the video sets in. This is real, this is happening, and no one cares. If you ever think you did something embarrassing, just remember it most likely wasn't 'David Lee Roth bouncing around on a giant inflatable microphone for an extremely uncomfortable amount of time while Eddie Van Halen plays the garbage disposal in the background' embarrassing. Have a great day.
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MRIs aren't fun. We all know it. I had an especially eventful one a few days ago. Here's the story of the scariest, most stressful MRI of my life.So, first of all, I had to wear possibly the ugliest pants in the world since my jeans had metal on them. Here's a mirror selfie from after the MRI (I'll explain everything later) Then, they had to take blood. That was awful. I hate the feeling of anything going into my body. That was over quick, though, but when they actually put the tube in me it HURT. At the last MRI I had, they didn't do a tube, so I didn't really know what if was supposed to feel like. Anyway, I went back to where my mom was sitting and instantly had a mini panic attack. "Liah, it's fine!" "IDONTLIKEITIDONTLIKEITIDONTLIKEIT" Before I could say anything else, Kevin, the best person ever, led me back to the monitor room. The doctors were blasting The Weeknd and chatting and having a good time. I felt calm despite the awful, stinging pain in my right arm. Kevin left and Lily led me to the MRI room. I laid back on the MRI table and Orquedia tested my IV to see if it was in right. In conclusion, after lots of nearly-crying from me, it wasn't. They tried another place on my right arm, but again failed. They had to call in Kevin. Kevin, my favorite person ever, came to the back room and calmly inserted an IV into my left arm. It worked! After that fiasco was over, Orquedia asked me what music I wanted to listen to. I asked if it was Pandora, and it was. After five seconds of indecision, I decided that I wanted to listen to the Strokes because it was a nice summer day in New York and what else would I listen to? Also, whatever I listened to would be broadcasted to the doctors in the first room, so I couldn't listen to anything too weird, but I still had to impress them with what I listened to. It was all chill at first. I was listening to some Julian Casablancas song that I don't remember the name of. They were telling me when to breathe and not breathe. It smelled like bagels. The next song was weird, and I honestly don't even remember what it was. Suddenly, my right arm started twitching like crazy. I looked up at the ceiling of the MRI tube and pretty much hallucinated a kaleidoscope from fear and blood loss. My left arm, where the tube was, started to sting too. But then, there was a moment. Through the horribly crackly headphones, I heard a voice say 'take me out' really quietly. Was it Kevin? No. I heard some guitars start up and quickly realized it was a live version of Franz Ferdinand's Take Me Out. I nearly started crying and I whisper-sang to the ceiling of the MRI tube. It was a blessed moment. "You're going to feel a cold rush in your arm in about two minutes, okay?" I accepted that fact and continued silently jamming out while the kaleidoscope continued wherever I looked. The cold rush was EXTREMELY COLD. And it happened just as the riff changed in Take Me Out. It was probably the most intense moment of my life. I felt like everything was ending. I was getting dizzy. I had to close my eyes because I couldn't focus on anything. The MRI ended shortly after that as the Strokes' Automatic Stop played in the headphones. The only problem was I couldn't move my arms, hence why my left arm was FULLY EXTENDED in the mirror selfie. My right arm still hurts. Ow. Anyway, I've always been a believer in the theory that music really changes a situation. Without any music playing in that MRI I'm sure I wouldn't have been as calm as I was (barely calm at all!).
That's really all I have to say. Sorry for being so behind on posting, by the way! I'm experiencing some serious writer's block and also my arm still hurts, which is unrelated but still important. Stay cool. |
About The AuthorLiah is a high school senior who plays guitar and loves the color yellow. She doesn't post much, but when she does, it's awesome. We promise.
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