My buddy Noel and his brother are anomalies in my life. Being Navy brats going from duty station to duty station as our dads received transfer orders from the Navy, our families moved on average, every four years. It was unusual to maintain friendships beyond a single tour, but Noel, his brother, Roel, and I have managed to maintain contact for over four decades.
These days, we're on opposite coasts. But back in the mid-'80s, we were all plying the mean streets of Long Beach, Mississippi. Countless times, Noel would be riding shotgun in the 'Stang, and we'd head out for the evening to see what shenanigans we could find.
Actually, I followed his lead on the shenanigans since I was way more straight-laced in those days. He was my role model for "cool".
We always packed a boombox because, at the time, the 'Stang was still sporting its stock AM radio. He also carried a collection of his own cassettes because he didn't trust mine would exude the proper boss vibe. Noel confided in me on several occasions he was worried I'd start a cruise down Jeff Davis blasting Beethoven's 5th. I think more than likely it would have been Vivaldi, but point taken. In his ongoing efforts to raise my street cred, he made sure to pack some tunes more appropriate to our ride and the century we were actually living in.
One Saturday evening, as we started our slow roll at the top of Jeff Davis, he started rifling through his collection. Suddenly, he paused at one cassette, gave me a Cheshire cat grin, and locked and loaded it into the boombox. With all dials cranked to max, he hit play.
My unacclimated ears were assaulted by heavy guitar riffs and the lead singer screaming the lyrics. It shocked me into slamming on the brakes, and that garnered a few honks and expletives from the car behind us. I waved apologetically in the rearview and started rolling again.
"What?! Dude! Who is this?! What is this!? What are they even saying!?" Noel was laughing and air drumming like a maniac. Then he joined in on what I could only assume was the chorus.
"BAT-TER-RY!!! BAT-TER-RY!!!"
Fast forward a few decades, and my childhood friend who was my role model for "cool" continued this position and became Senior Chief Silva, USN (RET). Along the way, he married an awesome lady and raised a daughter.
A few years back, we were texting back and forth and he mentioned he'd recently taken his daughter to a concert for one of the boy bands that was popular at the time. Remembering all our cruises down Jeff Davis together, I suggested he then broaden her musical horizons.
"Man, that's pretty cool. For her next concert, maybe take her to Skynyrd?"
"Yeah, I dunno about that. They might be a little too rough."
After I stopped laughing, which took a minute, I sat and thought about it. I imagine raising a daughter would have a mellowing effect on anyone. I believe Noel did eventually take his girl to Motley Crue and Poison, so "parenting win" there.
However, while the last music video he sent my way was an incredible example of musical proficiency on a 6 string, it was a long way from Metallica blasting from the shotgun seat of the 'Stang.
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