when I started this blog five years ago, I was a pet sitter and the name animal-crackers made sense. now I'm a stay-at-home-dad and freelance writer, but rather than confuse everyone by getting a different blog, it's just easier to keep posting things here.

1986 was a big year.

Two years earlier, I had saved enough change to buy my very first cassette tape -- Madonna's Like a Virgin. Then it was Phil Collins' No Jacket Required, and in 1985 it was Simple Minds' Once Upon a Time. I played these tapes until the tape nearly broke.

But in 1986, life began to change. I finished eight grade at the middle school -- possibly the only enjoyable year since kindergarten. My brother graduated high school and joined the Army. During this time Peter Gabriel's So was released. And once again, I found music I could listen to obsessively.

With summer came John. He was the neighbors' grandson. A year older than me, he had spent every summer in Alba since as long as I could remember.

When he arrived that year, he brought a special treat. Motley Crue's Shout at the Devil and Judas Priest's Defenders of the Faith. I remember listening to these on his Walkman and wincing with pain. My ears hurt. But I was determined not to let it show. So I listened to it until my senses numbed.

Later that summer, I returned to Nordmont Christian Camp. (Um, yes. I used to be quite religious.) Again, life was changing. Although relationship between boys and girls had slowly evolved over the years, there was something markedly different that summer. And I felt left out.

The music also changed. I don't remember what we listened to before, but that summer was all about Violent Femmes and Sigue Sigue Sputnik. We rocked out during the Friday dance to "Add It Up" and shocked the counselors when everyone started singing "Why can't I get, just one fuck! Why can't I get, just one fuck! I guess it's got something to do with luck, but I waited my whole life for just one..."

Oh yeah, the counselors were NOT happy about that little incident.

When school started in the fall, I was a freshman in high school. Although on good terms with most everyone, my friends were Kevin, Doug and Brian. But even this was changing. Brian and I were hanging out more. He made me a copy (a really poor copy) of his favorite cassette -- Judas Priest's new album Turbo.

It rocked. It fucking rocked.

This was my first real foray into metal. And for a moment in my life, it looked like I wouldn't be doomed to a life of dork.

Then in January 1987, two days before my birthday, Brian was killed. He and his brother were sled riding down their driveway into the dirt road at the hill's bottom. A car came around the corner and that was that.

Over the next three years life seemed to fall apart. Most significantly, the friendship between Kevin, Doug and I became bitter. We couldn't stand each other, although no one had the guts to say it.

My taste in music also suffered. Poison. Slaughter. Bang Tango. Babylon AD. White Lion. Whitesnake. Van Halen post Roth. The only bright spots were Metallica and Edie Brickell and the New Bohemians. Quite a match there, huh?

I started to pull myself together in 12th grade. I had a "fuck it" kind of attitude, and it showed in my playlist. The Ramones. Sex Pistols. Faith No More. And a return to Violent Femmes.

In college, I met people who again changed my life and my musical tastes. Black Flag. Sonic Youth. The Pixies. Ghetto Boys. But most importantly -- Public Enemy.

And in 1991 shit really started flying. Nirvana's Nevermind and Nine Inch Nails' Pretty Hate Machine changed everything. Everything.

Pearl Jam's "Alive" became an anthem for my new friends -- a weird mix of frat boys and punks. The Replacements became a favorite and "Alex Chilton" found lots of airtime on the CD player.

I've run out of time, so I'll have to finish this with the History of Music Part Two.