Subject: how baywatch changed my life
From: Jive Monkey (monkey_jive@hotmail.com)
Date: Thu Jul 26 2001 - 01:34:32 GMT
Seven summers ago I, a conspicuously retarded 17 year-old, was also a
lifeguard at the Imlay City, Mi. pool, what would have been the local pool,
if I had lived anywhere near it. In any case, I was paid to sunbathe and
flirt with my coworkers (all female, tan, and under 20), fellow lifeguards
and possibly travelers as well, though I never asked that, not really
knowing the phrase at the time. One lazy day (as they all were), someone
brought in a copy of a music magazine, either Spin or Rolling Stone, which
featured a riveting and totally out-of-place Pulitzer worthy piece on the
conflict in Northern Ireland, or “the Troubles” as I’d learn to call them.
I was enthralled and felt an instant identification with the freedom
fighters of the IRA, as I thought of them then (it may be helpful at this
point to refer you back to my “conspicuously retarded” nature, a condition
which haunts me to this day. Despite working in such close proximity to so
many attractive, scantily clad, and downright horny teenage girls, I was
more interested in some fighting going on in a far-off province, and ended
the summer just as I had started it: alone, and a virgin. Obviously the old
think tank wasn’t firing on all cylinders, and, sadly, still isn’t), and
wanted to learn more, lots more, preferably at great expense. A typical
pre-internet American youth in search of information, I ran off to the video
store and rented a copy of “Blown Away” starring Tommy Lee Jones as a
devoted Irish terrorist and Jeff Bridges as an Irish ex-terrorist now making
amends working on the Boston PD bomb squad (where else?). In the midst of
all this high drama the director decided to include some authentic Irish
music, and, of course, U2’s “The Joshua Tree” was the best and really the
only choice. There’s actually a scene in the movie in which Tommy Lee’s
character, recently escaped from the Maze, is seen purchasing a cassette of
the album from a woman who can’t believe that he, an Irishman fresh from the
island, has never heard of U2, and she asks him if he’s been living in a
cave.
Now, prior to this, my only exposure to U2 that I can remember was seeing a
classmate wearing a ZOO TV tour t-shirt while in my freshman year. During
the summer in question, I was listening to country music in damn near fatal
quantities, and slowly coming around to “modern” rock thanks to my beautiful
and beguiling colleagues. I had, in my even younger days, been a huge fan
of Huey Lewis and the News (Fore!), and my favorite album was Chris Isaak’s
“Heart Shaped World.” To put it more simply, I was hooked, and “I Still
Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For” became my theme song (why I didn’t look
right there at the pool, I still don’t know). I went out and found, at
Borders Books and Music in Utica, a cd copy of the album, and couldn’t
believe my good luck. Not only was that album obviously the finest piece of
music ever made, but too the band had already released other albums, a lot
of other albums, and they were still together! I needed another hobby to go
along with researching the Irish Republican Army, and here it was: buy and
listen to every piece of music these songsmiths had put together. I’ve
since accomplished this little feat to my satisfaction, and it was actually
kind of a let down. I mean, now what?
But back to the Summer of No Love- the plight of the IRA was beckoning me,
calling out for attention. I knew, too, that the members of my new favorite
band must be sympathetic, Irish that they were, and famous for “Sunday
Bloody Sunday,” a rebel song if I’d ever heard one, and so I felt supported
in my quest for justice. I bought books, magazines, more movies (The Crying
Game, Patriot Games [of course causing me to then read all of Tom Clancy’s
so-called works, a malady which led to me joining the navy the day after my
eighteenth birthday and, thence, never to return to that pool of such great
promise. The cause and effect of what went on that summer has sent
shockwaves through my life], etc.), and a map of Ireland which still hangs
on my wall; a friend of mine even gave me the flag of Ireland, which hangs
next to and is the same size as the map. Gerry Adams was one of my heroes:
if I could have voted, I would have voted for him. This all went on for
years, but as I slowly came to understand the conflict, I began to realize
that there were other sides to the story, other viewpoints. At some point I
watched “Rattle and Hum” and heard Bono lament the dead and the violence and
the division, all for nothing, and cry out “Fuck the Revolution!” and I knew
things weren’t as simple as I would have liked, that one man’s freedom
fighter is another man’s murderer. I began to understand politics too; I
even saw how it affected my own life, being in the navy on an aircraft
carrier and operating, of all things, a nuclear power plant, and I learned
to see Gerry Adams as the politician he is, despite how good his intentions
may be, or could be (anyone going to disarm anytime soon? Anyone at all?).
I recently purchased a poster of Gerry Adams, printed by U2’s record label
to promote the single “Please,” another call for sanity and peace. The
poster is the last of the Please promo posters that I needed to have the set
(the others are Douglas Hulme, Ian Paisley, and David Trimble, all in bright
pastels): I think I’ll frame them and hang them up, a little plea of my own,
though it may never be seen or heard. At some point I would have wanted it
as a picture of the man, but now I want it as a picture of what little hope
there is for his people, and for the world in general, if Seattle and Genoa
are any indication of the future, not to mention Sarajevo, and Chechnya, and
Jerusalem…
peace?
andy
p.s. It’s true: the reason I became a lifeguard was “Baywatch.” But it
was the ORIGINAL series, back when it had a plot AND hot babes.
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This archive was generated by hypermail 2b25 : Mon Sep 10 2001 - 15:29:40 GMT