The Greatest f#@%+ng Country in the World
Posted on 19. Jan, 2009 by nostraboris in Holland, Music
This month it is ten years since I came to the USA as a hungry and ambitious musician. A decade that went by in a flash, and left me a lifetime of experiences in the shape of both dreams and nightmares.
Fresh in Hollywood I sold pre-packed lunches to office workers, moved furniture for $7.50 an hr and rehearsed or gigged at Hollywood clubs at night. I played the coconut teaszer at 1 am on monday night in front of 3 people and pretended it was Wembley Stadium. I lived in shit-holes, I slept on couches, slept in cars, or stayed up all night. I felt invincible.
I got a record deal, I got to tour. I experienced a never ending chain of unreal events, either as a fly on the wall or as a participant. I stood on the side of the stage when Ted Nugent played the star spangled banner on the 4th of July somewhere in Wisconsin. I saw Richard Patrick of Filter stumble off the stage straight into rehab. I saw Jerry Cantrell and Tommy Lee play “Man in the Box” in Canada, I smoked weed with Seven Dust, ate mushrooms with Local H. I saw kids singing my lyrics. I heard my song on the radio in the truck I wrote it in. I saw my band mates destroy The Color Red’s dreams in a fussbal match. I hung out with Clutch, and played in front of the Capitol in Madison for a big crowd.
I met U2, and Ozzy. I saw my band in the Billboard Mainstream rock charts, I saw Shawn from Seether grow from a south African kid, wide eyed and giggling when he came on my tour bus, into a legit rock star, I saw Ben from Breaking Benjamin drink a Bud light on stage in front of Miller reps on a tour they sponsored and become a star as well. I saw SINCH blow minds with a lyrically, musically and visually profound cathartic show every night for months. I played inside the French Quarter in New Orleans, on the water in Baltimore, I played the Aragon Ballroom in Chicago, and The Hamerstein in New York.
But like I said, both dreams and nightmares.
After my band dissolved, I quit music, stopped talking to people, and worked 9-5 for several years. I isolated and completely abandoned my dreams, hiding in a haze of drugs. Bush was elected a second time, and I began to question why I had ever come to the USA.
But for every excuse I found to give up, there were two reasons that reminded me why I shouldn’t. A random fan would recognize me in a liquor store. Or my old buddies would be on national TV.
Not until I had experienced a rapid ascent, followed by a free fall into the abyss, did my real journey begin. By no longer running away from reality, I learned to accept loss, be patient, and adjust my expectations without settling for less.
In the USA I finally began to learn how to be a man.
America may not have been itself lately, but still, nowhere in the world does a black man get elected by a majority of white voters.
NOWHERE.
When I saw my childhood idols U2 play “Pride” , on the steps of the Lincoln memorial, right before Barack gave a speech almost exactly on the spot where MLK held his dream speech, I knew I was where I wanted to be:
Home, in the greatest fucking country in the world.
Well said. Woo hoo! Obama!