If I didn’t have a practice or after-school something to attend, I was on the couch as soon as the bus dropped me off and I scurried the quarter of a mile or so up Lakeshore Dr. to my house. Hot Pocket in one hand (RIP Gluten) and the clicker in the other, my destination was MTV, and for the next three or four hours until moms and pops got home, I was glued to a steady stream of pop culture jargon and images that amounted to what was known then as “music television.” Without even trying to touch on what that’s devolved into nowadays, I will simply pay homage to those wonderfully blissful adolescent years, where Beavis and Butthead was the pinnacle of critique and Carson Daly let it be known what tunes should be spinning on the radio.
Now, when I close my eyes and picture those times there’s an image of a girl dressed as Dorothy running through a New York City night, her lipstick too red, her Cowardly Lion and Scarecrow tagalongs too sketchy, and the music behind her playing clear as day. Blues Traveler, you were a part of my childhood. That green CD with the scrawny cat face on the front of it was one of the first compact discs that I ever owned. I’m sure my mother and father loathed each time I played “The Hook,” but man, there might never have been a Jam Van without those days. So thanks for making the kid in me smile by hopping in this ole’ rig of ours. Shit, the Van’s from 1992, so she probably remembers it all pretty well. To my knowledge you guys are the first band to play on Jam in the Van and Beavis and Butthead, and that’s phucking phenomenal. End tape.