I've contributed to perhaps the best humor compilation I've ever read. Available now on Amazon!

My second chapbook, "The Second Book of Pearl: The Cats" is now available as either a paper chapbook or as a downloadable item. See below for the Pay Pal link or click on its cover just to the right of the newest blog post to download to your Kindle, iPad, or Nook. Just $3.99 for inspired tales of gin, gambling addiction and inter-feline betrayal.

My first chapbook, I Was Raised to be A Lert is in its third printing and is available both via the PayPal link below and on smashwords! Order one? Download one? It's all for you, baby!

Sunday, April 18, 2010

How I Miss The Nuge

I’ll admit it. Back in the day, I was a huge Ted Nugent fan. Stranglehold? Free For All (baby)? Takes me back to the 70s, a friend’s basement, sitting in a circle passing a joint, laughing and digging the music. A simple, silly, and supremely friendly time.

That was then, of course; and this is now, and we are left with our memories and the (mostly) clandestine and mischievous knowledge of having a slightly misspent youth and an almost stereotypical experience of the 70s.

The music was a trip: six- and seven-minute songs to groove to, drum solos, guitar solos, expansive jams, opportunities for musicians to climb out on to a musical limb and bring you along.

Music moved on, of course, as the arts must: to disco, to dance music, to the electronic drummer and synthesizers, to punk.

OK. I can handle that. I own quite a bit of it, as a matter of fact. Things change. People grow up, get jobs, pay taxes, throw real dinner parties, serve decent liquor and form opinions based not on what their friends think but what they think.

Which brings us back to The Nuge. Ted Nugent.

He had a reality show not long ago – and who knows what it was called. I had to look it up. It was just that forgettable – morons competing for some reason for something. Who cares? It stunk. Nothing I found out about him was anything I wanted to know about Mr. Great White Buffalo. In fact, I found out that he was a patriarchal ass. I could’ve done without that.

As we said in the 70s: Burn!

What’s my point?

That I miss my illusion. All I ever needed to know about Ted Nugent was that he was/is an excellent and rockin’ guitar player. He was my childhood, my teenage years, my rock-and-roll fantasy.

My apologies to The Nuge, but I never wanted to know the real him.

I just wanted to be in the room while he played.


nsiyer said...

Somethings in life, one just loves and embraces for what they are and what we believe them to be. That alone matters.

Amy@Bitchin'WivesClub said...

I had the unfortunate experience of seeing the Nuge live in Clear Lake, IA at the Surf Ballroom.... I, too, love love love Stranglehold and one of my most cherished memories is driving home from a date with my new husband (now coming up on 12 yrs next month!) and keeping on driving instead of turning into our driveway so we could continue grooving to the guitar solo while in motion....

He was such an incredibly awful, terrible, hate-filled, sh*t-stain of a human being that I left the show before he had even played Stranglehold.

The reality of an artist's life definitely doesn't mix with the memories or feelings that their songs can create. :(

Yodood said...

It's the same unwillingness to lose our fantasy as the one that governments don't lie behind those inspirational speeches. They've got us by our willing optimism and wringing us out optimally — because, let's face it, it's a pretty ultimate fantasy. This post gives me the glue for a piece I've been working on in separate piles, thanks.

Cal's Canadian Cave of Coolness said...

Stop being separated at birth!! I still refer to a crazy woman as being 'Intensity in Ten Cities' and no one gets the pun.

Ted is an example of someone who I wish he wasn't the real person he is. I want him to just be the guy he was in my mind when I listened to his music. The perfect exxample of TMI.

I would rather have found out he was gay than batshit gun and bow crazy.

IndigoWrath said...

Hey Pearl!

I know the man's name, but not his music. In fact, I may only recall his look now because of that wonderful throwaway line at the end of Ocean's Eleven. Clooney to Pitt:

"Ten Nugent called. He wants his shirt back."


Teena in Toronto said...

Wango the tango!

Kelly said...

Oh, I loved me some Nuge back in the day when Derek St. James was the singer. But then the Nuge got a little too Wango Tango and his ego got way too big and I found out he liked his women young. As barely into their teens young. Then he just became a creepy pervert and a whackjob. But hearing "Snakeskin Cowboy" instantly whisks me back to my HS years.

Cloudia said...

Careful, you are verging into maturity, Pearl. LOL! Insightful, and yes, I do want oxygen pumped in, thank you.

Aloha from Waikiki

Comfort Spiral

Janie at Sounding Forth said...

I'd go hunting with him in a New York minute -- he gets to go on some major hunts! But no cameras please. (Except, of course, mine.)

Marla said...

Poor Ted. So misunderstood. :-P

Anonymous said...


Tgoette said...

Man, that guy could totally rock that axe! I have some great memories of him from my teen years. It's too bad he turned out to be such a scary head case, though. A lot of that going around with rock stars. I think it must be from the amplifiers. Yeah, that's gotta be it.

Tempo said...

My oh My Pearl...we learn more surprising things about you...LOL
Seems the 70's was a memorable experience for all eh...or it would have been if we hadnt smoked so many J's

Gregory said...

He HAD some great music, if a musician does not continue to make music, what is left...
History. I seen him once in the 80's good show but I would not like to know him. Had some cold things to say about the Nervana musician that died, enough said

Krëg said...

I'll never forget the fantastic example Ted provided this world: an example I strive to live by everyday. For now whenever I find myself in any small amount of doubt, I do indeed simply whip it out.

It's in the air to-niyyyiyyite!