Babies, Booze & Boobs

Influencing a man's perspective for centuries


Ages ago, as a senior in high school, my good friend Abe handed me a cassette tape he made (yes I’m that old) and suggested I listen to it. He and I traded music often, each of us broadening our horizons on alt, indie and punk that we each enjoyed. This is how it was done pre-Internet, people.

Abe recorded 311’s Grassroots and self titled 311 onto the tape. I first listened in my parents bathroom while shaving. I recognized Down from KROQ, but the rest of the songs on the albums messed with my head. It was a cluster of reggae, rap and punk. I didn’t like it at first.

But it grew on me. Munky, one of my long-time good friends, turned out to be a huge fan. He even ordered a vanity license plate to honor his favorite song on their first, and best, album – Music. Listening to this album only fueled my 311 fire. Dumped by a stupid girl, I was in a bad state emotionally. Music helped get me through, and out of, that dark period.

I’ve since attended, conservatively, over 20 shows. And while I assert that their music over the past five years has become soft, and their shows have become boring and predictable – I’m still a fan.

Today is 311 Day. The Babies original due date, full term mind you, was 3/10/11. Immediately the significance of the date crashed my mind with awesomeness. Now, being a reasonable person, I knew The Babies would never get close to a 3/11/11 delivery date. But then the doctor scheduled a C-section for 3/1/11, and I was giddy.

While it’s not 311 Day, my babies were born 3/11 – March, 2011. I had 3/11 babies. The Boobs rolls her eyes when I tell her the significance of the date. And maybe I’m just stretching the whole 3/11 thing to give me something to be excited about, but I genuinely am excited about it.

So, Happy 311 Day to everyone.

311 – Do You Right


2 responses to “311

  1. Sam 03/16/2011 at 7:27 pm

    fuckin Abe, is he still alive?

    • brucebrazil 03/16/2011 at 7:53 pm

      I have no idea. I’ve really lost track of just about anyone from high school. That’s what happens when I refuse to create a Facebook account. Or attend any reunions.

      But ya, whatever became of our Indian, guitar-shedding friend?

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