I'm a hyper person. This manifests itself in a few ways. I'll be driving to school early in the morning, and instead of slowly easing into the morning with some NPR or a laid back Miles Davis record, I'll choose to taser my cranium with glitched out Aphex Twin tracks, or pummel my eardrums with a really heavy Sonic Youth record. Every once in a while I'll have to consciously stop myself and put on something a little more chilled out. This idea may or may not occur to me, depending on my mood. Sometimes tending towards the hyper side can come in useful. I bat leadoff for my softball team, and it's not because I'm the best hitter. I generally hit singles, but I hit them pretty regularly, and once I'm on my base my spastic energy usually works to my advantage. When I'm in the outfield, I might back up the left fielder while playing right center, just because I'm bored and feel like running. This doesn't always help anybody, but it's fun!
There is, of course, a down side to being hyper, even on the softball field. I lost my spikes a couple months ago, and I've been playing Russian Roulette and going without since then. Last night I hit a single to an outfield playing unnecessarily deep (apparently their team is deficient in the scouting department). I ran to second, and then thought that the mediocre throw might allow me to make it to third. It didn't, and I had to throw on the brakes and quickly get back to second. Well, I busted @#*. For some reason I also like wearing basketball shorts while playing softball, so my exposed legs ended up looking like the filling for strawberry rhubarb pie. Being the indomitable warrior that I am, I toughed it out and scored, but my legs are still looking pretty rugged today.
It reminded me of the last time I skinned up my legs this badly. I was at summer "gifted camp" (nerd alert!), and I was running back to my Western Carolina University dorm as fast as I could. I was about to execute a trade of some old Batman comic book for a copy of Metallica's Ride The Lightning, and boy was I pumped. I was running faster than lightning, if you catch my drift. I ran around the corner, and while I excitedly saw the dorm coming into view, I completely failed to notice that the sidewalk suddenly ended. It was only about a two foot drop, but when I landed on the concrete my legs suddenly knew pain like they had never known before. After nervously glancing around to ensure that no one had witnessed this Wiley Coyote-falling-off-the-cliff moment, I proceeded to drag my tattered carcass the rest of the way to the dorm. The only thing that kept me going was the promise of rubbing alcohol and speed metal. In the end, however, perhaps my ordeal allowed me to relate more easily to James Hetfield's tortured cries and Kurt Hammett's furious shredding.
Metallica has become the poster band of lame in the last decade or so, with Lars Ulrich's Napster whining, their bloated symphonic versions of old songs, and that silly documentary filled with band bickering and art buying. Back in the day, however, they were pretty awesome. I worshipped Ride The Lightning, Master of Puppets, and ...And Justice For All, and the following songs were my favorites from each album. Master of Puppets was the album I loved most, but the video for "One" immediately caught my attention. A KID GETS EVERYTHING BLOWN OFF IN WAR AND IS FORCED TO CONTINUE LIVING?!?! THAT'S SO MESSED UP, AND SOOOO... METAL.
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