getinthecarhelen

Arguing With Something Sammy Hagar Said
for Jack Collom

the way light rocks against your shoulders
when you take a shower between the slenderly parted legs of dusk vs. dawn

and we’re staying in a hotel room that’s been built
with a window in the bathroom that’s lost its curtain

the way that rocks

differs cosmically from the way in which the unseen world rocks
everything that’s been know to us when, during those unexpected
occasions, it allows itself
to be known

both of these things rock
but they don’t rock in one all encompassingly categorized kind of way
no. they don’t
they rock differently

like the way Italian dressing rocks when the only thing
we’ve got left in the house to eat is a sexually abused cucumber
and a head of lettuce

is different than the way you misplacing your dildo rocks while being dilo-less and you
want to do something crazy together that requires

the presence of dildo

and I suddenly remember that we might have a cucumber in the refrigerator
and you say “Where?” and I say “Behind that old head of lettuce.” and then I say
“What do you say, should I go get it?” and you say “Yes!”

You see where I’m going with this, right?

Eating a delicious salad when you’re starving
post cucumber enhanced coitus rocks

as does participating in the actual cucumber enhanced dildo’ing sex
that rocks too

but they’re not the same kind of rocking
no
their rocking is different

so, that being as it is
where the fuck does Sammy Hagar get off insisting
in that goddamn song of his in which he does the insisting
that There Is Only One Way To Rock?

The central motif in this little diddy
is verifiabley flawed and also aurally
sort of ridiculous
not to mention completely unsupported
by the un-transcendent lyrics that surround
this false chorus to make up
its various puddles of clumsy verse

at one point Hager equates analyzing the previous line he’s just sung
with what he refers to with fully permed hard rock bravado as “mental masturbation”
but it’s not like any of his lyrics are cleverly written mysteries that require analyzing

Me like drugs! Me like fucking! Me like rock!

that pretty much sums up Hagar‘s lyrical metaphysics
in his own nut shells

analyzing a Sammy Hagar lyric is like trying to beat off
in a public port-a-potty
it’s degrading and desperate and seriously
for god’s sake man, can’t you just wait to do that sort of thing
when you get home?!

Sammy Hagar‘s idea of a metaphor is something like:
And then I went down on this chick/like me going down on a chick

Which is just stupid, like something stupid climbing a stupid tree
to spend 2 minutes and 35 seconds humming a stupid tune about
something stupid

So give it a rest already, Sammy Hagar
you Dee Snyder haired hard rock version
of Jimmy Buffet wanna be

There are plenty of ways to rock
you half assed hedonist

Boulders rock Granite
Moon rocks Skylight
Bed rocks Soil
The Rock rocks Tooth Fairies
Sham rocks St. Patricks Day
Sherlock rocks Watson
Paper rocks Scissors
Love rocks Existence
Hard rocks Cafe’s

I mean, come on!

Insisting there’s only one way of doing something
makes about as much sense as Mr. Hagar‘s
contention that it’s impossible, regardless of the current
conditions involved with surrounding traffic

no matter what’s going on or where he may happen
to be…..that it’s just too utterly fucking impossible
for this finite jackass

to ‘drive 55’

You can’t drive 55?
I don’t fucking care!
Drive 58 then!
Or 158!
Or take the goddamn bus!

Just stay off the fuck damn airwaves
when I’m feeling moody
(note: I’m always feeling moody)

and leave my midnight radio
alone!

Tags: Jack Collom, love, poetry, rocking, Sammy Hagar, speed limits