Suicide Machines "Hey!"

I was unshowered, unshaved and generally unkempt looking as I hurried into the restaurant to pick up some take-out on Saturday.  Looking the way I was, I certainly wasn't expecting a compliment.

"Dude, love the shirt."

I had to look down to remember what I was wearing.  I don't suppose I should have had to even look, since this was the shirt I put on Friday morning, wore to bed that night, and kept on, all day Saturday.

And really, there is but one shirt in my collection that elicits such a regular response, particularly from guys who'll call you "Dude."


Let's go waaay back to the year I met my wife.

It was a pretty whirlwind year.  We met at the mvyradio Big Chili Contest.  Progressed very quickly to serious.  She moved to The Vineyard to live with me within 6 months.  And before our first full year together had passed, we were shopping for engagement rings.

For our first Christmas together, she made me a little book.  It was the 2nd one she'd done.  Some very simple pictures, depicting various milestone scenes of our first (less than) year together.

Here's the picture she drew, to represent moving to the Island.



It's reasonably accurate (though I must admit, the cat was actually deeply unhappy about the move).

The one kind of funny detail is my shirt.  It says "Some Punk Rock Band."

We had a good laugh about this.  She admitted that when she was drawing the picture, she couldn't remember the actual names she'd seen on any of the handful of band shirts I owned.

I think she probably had in mind my Suicide Machines t-shirt.



But "Some Punk Rock Band" really struck me.

"We should make shirts that say that!" I joked.

Guess what she gave me, on the next present-giving occasion?
 


I love to wear this shirt around, and I love to get compliments on it.

Because I love telling people that my wife made it for me.

"Dude, your wife kicks ass."

Hell yeah, she does.


Hear the song on Youtube.

Suicide Machines "No Face"

Ballot Question #2 in Massachusetts is a version of what some States have tackled as "assisted suicide."  The proposed bill in Massachusetts is not an "assisted" bill, per se.  It would allow a "physician licensed in Massachusetts to prescribe medication, at the request of a terminally-ill patient meeting certain conditions, to end that person’s life."

Heavy stuff.

It's pretty amazing that this Question has arrived on the ballot rather quietly.  Given the strong feelings the subject matter provokes, you'd think that there would be a lot more talk about it.  But its under the radar enough that I know some of my friends weren't aware that this was something they were going to have to consider in (or before) the voting booth.  Or maybe they are aware of it, but they just don't want to talk about such a dark, loaded, emotionally charged subject.

My awareness of people's sensitive, passionate and emotional responses to the topic comes, in part, from a t-shirt.

There was a mini Ska-music revival in the mid-90s, and I became hooked on this band, The Suicide Machines.  From Detroit, I assume they took their name due to fellow Michiganite, Jack Kevorkian.

How psyched was I, that the record label person in appreciation of my radio support of the band, sent me a band t-shirt?

A simple navy tee, it had the band's name and logo on the front, and the album name, "Destruction By Definition" on the back.

Amazingly, I still have this t-shirt and it's still in pretty good shape even though it is well over 15 years old.

Why is it in good shape?  Because I only wear it occasionally.

I felt like, geez, you just never know when you're going to be somewhere where the words "Suicide Machines" emblazoned across your chest is inappropriate.

As far as fashion and clothing goes, I've always subscribed to something I read about Jackie Kennedy.  Her theory on clothing was that after you left a party, you wanted people to say you looked great, without them exactly remembering what you were wearing.

Now I'm no Jackie O and I've never worn a Chanel suit or a pill box hat.  But I do tend to wear things that are nice but plain, that effect a persona, but are not the focal point of that persona.

I'm definitely not the type of guy who wears a shirt that says, in effect, "Hey look at me.  I'm confrontational!"

So mostly, I've used my Suicide Machines tee as an undershirt, where a collared shirt can hide the logo.

But every time I put on this shirt, or listen to the band, I think of this one time . . .

It was when I was living in Virginia.  There was certainly a large population of social conservatives there, who would frown upon a shirt like the one I had.  Literally.  Some people were not shy about staring at you disapprovingly for something as simple as a t-shirt.

I was out with my friends at an arts and crafts and music festival in town.  The early part of the day had been cool, but the sun had come out, so I decided to take off my sweatshirt.

I had completely forgotten that I had the Suicide Machines tee on.  And as I was walking with my friends, trying to decide if I should but the sweatshirt back on, I could see this elderly woman staring at my chest.

She started toward me.

I suppose I could have thrown the sweatshirt back on, but I was kind of frozen in place, wondering how I was going to counter whatever argument she was about to throw on me.

She stepped right up to me, squinting at my chest to make sure she was reading correctly, right up until she was upon me.

She grabbed my arm and looked me in the eye.

"I love your shirt," she smiled.

And she gave me a thumbs up.

Then she walked off.

I suppose she'd be voting Yes, on Question #2.


For details on Ballot Question #2, and the Massachusetts Ballot in general, the State has a really great website.



Hear the song on Youtube.