Grade 8

#858: School Days

GETTING MORE TALE #858: School Days

Did anybody really enjoy doing speeches in school?Β  I dreaded them year after year.Β  Pick a subject, write a speech, memorize it, time it right, and then it’s showtime.Β  My first speech was an award winner.Β  In was in grade three, and I wrote a speech about falling into the Athabasca glacier on my summer vacation.Β  It was a hit.Β  But that didn’t get me off the hook.Β  Year after year, you had to keep coming up with new speeches.

Grade five was Pac-Man, and it didn’t do as well.Β  Not that I minded.Β  I wanted to do just well enough, not so well that I had to do it again in a semi-finals.Β  I was obsessed with Pac-Man that year.Β  I truly had Pac-Man fever.Β  In my speech I discussed sequels like Ms. Pac-Man, and how the Atari 2600 version was such a disappointment.

In eighth grade I changed things up considerably and did my speech on Kiss.Β  I can tell you that the teacher Mrs. Powers visibly reacted every time I said the words Hotter Than Hell.Β  My speech was like a condensed version of Kisstory, a predecessor perhaps to what I like to do today.Β  It was actually really good although it was mostly off the cuff.Β  I knew I wasn’t going to get a good grade because of the subject matter, and I knew a speech about Kiss wasn’t going to make it to any kind of semi-finals, and I really knew they didn’t like the word “hell”.Β  Name dropping Mick Jagger didn’t help.Β  But it was really good, natural sounding and I only stumbled a couple of times.

The teachers didn’t really want you to do a speech about rock bands, but I was determined to express myself.Β  I didn’t want to spend five minutes talking about, I dunno, making steak sandwiches.Β  I could have whipped up an easy speech on Antarctic exploration or World War II, and gotten a better mark.Β  The more I look back, I guess I was a teeny tiny bit of a rebel.Β  But it was the teachers who gave me shit about my Judas Priest shirt that brought it on.

In grade nine I did my speech about Iron Maiden.Β  I should have diversified.Β  I could have spoken about nuclear power, Baron Von Richthofen, or Wrestlemania.Β  To my credit I was always good at telling a story, and I made them interesting.Β  I just tried to squeeze music into my schoolwork any chance I could.Β  If the jocks could do a speech about baseball, I should be able to do one about heavy metal.Β  I do remember one guy had a really well written comedic speech about a blind date.Β  If I knew fiction was a category I would have tried a hand at that!

In later years I did more expansive independent studies on other subjects, but still managed to work in music.Β  I did it for a sociology project and a few English ones.Β  And why not?Β  I couldn’t do that in algebra, physics, chemistry, or calculus.

These little acts of rock and roll rebellion didn’t get me an A, but I did well enough to be admitted to Wilfrid Laurier University in 1991.Β  So:Β  no regrets.Β  I can still write about Manfred von Richthofen if I want, and I’m fortunate enough that you would probably still read it.Β  I’ve written about history (tied into music) here a number of times.Β  I’m sure I’ll do it again.Β  And why not?Β  It’s easy to tie this stuff to music; Iced Earth have a song about Richthofen.Β  Queen have a song about Robert Falcon Scott.Β  Iron Maiden have songs about everything that ever happened.Β  The field is wide open.

 

#353: Hotter Than Hell

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RECORD STORE TALES MkII: Getting More Tale
#353: Hotter Than Hell

Grade 8 was a shitty year. I couldn’t wait to get the hell out of that shitty school. Β I had it up to here [holds hand right below chin] with the bullies and teachers. Β I had a fight with a bully at the beginning of the year, which at least kept that one off my case for the rest of it. Β That was also the year I got mono! Β The only thing that really helped get me through was rock and roll, and especially Kiss. Β Way back in Part 3 of Record Store Tales, I acquired Hotter Than Hell on LP, in very bad condition. Β I almost immediately traded it away for a bunch of other records and swag, but not before dubbing a copy on a terrible Scotch blank tape. Β As explained in great detail Β in Part 3, I grew to love Hotter Than Hell despite its flaws. Β Sonically, it was arguably Kiss’ worst album. Β I was listening to a scratched LP via a 120 minute Scotch tape that was prone to stretch and warble. Β I had Kiss’ worst sounding album on the worst sounding format! Β Yet something about it kept drawing me back.

Sound issues aside, there’s no denying Hotter Than Hell is a powerful record. Β Perennial Kiss klassics such as “Got to Choose”, “Hotter Than Hell”, “Parasite”, and “Let Me Go, Rock and Roll” can be found right here. Β It also has one of Peter Criss’ best tunes (albeit written by Paul Stanley) called “Mainline”. Β I found myself immediately hooked on Peter’s raspy voice. Β I surmised that “Mainline” wasn’t a hit, since it neither appeared on Alive! nor Double Platinum. Β I couldn’t figure out why. Β “If Kiss have songs this good that never became hits,” I reasoned, “the rest of their albums must also be pretty good.”

Right after “Mainline” was another amazing song that I fell for: “Coming Home”. Β This Stanley ode to the road was chosen many years later as the opening track for Kiss’ MTV Unplugged. Β Back then, to me it was another classic that should have been a hit. Β The nucleus of the album became four key songs that I could not get enough of: Β “Coming Home”, “Mainline”, “Hotter Than Hell” and “Got to Choose”. Β Later on, “All the Way” expanded that list to five.

Those tunes kept me going. Β If I was having a rotten day at school, I could hum “Coming Home” to myself and feel better. Β For a French assignment, we had to record an introductory paragraph about ourselves, approximately 30-60 seconds long. Β We were allowed to do this with music in the background. Β I chose the opening riff to “Got to Choose” for mine. First chord — then, “Je m’appelle MichΓ¨le…” I talked for the instrumental part, and was finished before the opening line of the song. But I kept the tape running for a moment longer before I did a fade-out: “Baby, you know I heard the neighbors say…” Just so I could work a little bit of Kiss into my French class. I was probably the only one who noticed.

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The bullies picked on me pretty hard in grade 8. Β I was assigned “flag duty”, which meant I was the guy who had to put the flag up every morning. Β Drawing attention to myself was never a fun thing in grade 8, and I had to do it every morning. Β Walking down the hall to the coughsΒ of “Fag Boy” — a clever name derived from “Flag Boy” — was a daily torment. Β They also liked to make fun of my boots, which today would have been cooler than hell, since they were vintage, but then just added to misery. Β Thursdays were wood shop class, which meant a bus ride to another school downtown. Β That bus ride was without a doubt the worst part of each week. Β I was prone to getting sick on Thursdays, for some reason….

When I got mono (for real) I missed most of the end of grade 8, but not before being shamed in front of the entire class by my teacher. Β “Shame on you!” she said, because I picked the wrong school. Β We all had to choose which highschool we wanted to go to. Β We were usually expected to choose the Catholic school, but there was no way in hell I was doing that. Β You couldn’t have dragged me along with those kids, believe me. Β There was just no way. Β  I chose Grand River Collegiate, which was closer. Β Plus my best friend Bob, who was two years older than me, went to that school. Β It would be cool to see him every day at lunch time. Β We never had any classes together for obvious reasons, but we conspired to get lockers side by side once. Β We had a great time in highschool. Β Those were the golden years!

Certainly better than grade 8. Β I’ve never told all of these stories publicly before. Β It is what it is, and all is certainly forgiven now. Β The interesting thing is how these experiences collided to really galvanize my love of that Hotter Than Hell album. Β Listening to it today still brings back memories of gym class, waiting for it to finally end, humming “Coming Home” to myself. Β And that, friends, is why such a terrible sounding record is so important to me!

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