Ah, man, Eddie died.
Van Halen, done.
I was late to the game,
Although, Columbia Records and Tapes
Did come through with one album
When I was still in high school.
Pretty good penny I spent there.
So many weekends started with VH,
Junior high, starting the night at Glen’s, west of the Atlantic,
Running With the Devil,
Vinyl, cranked on a Pioneer turntable,
Just before his father could come home and shut down
“That infernal music.”
He was more a Merle guy.
Over ten years ago, I was hanging with the goat herder
When we saw Poodle, Glen’s cousin.
Same deal, west of the Atlantic,
But there was no Eddie that night,
Just Pepe and the mysticism conjured
By an evening influenced by the agave gods.
I miss those days.
A piece of high school headed on today,
Maybe the greatest, who knows,
But I can say without question,
Listening to his solos today
Has me reminiscing about the old times
And thinking how much I really did like VH.