HA! Tom Petty. Pure Florida Chevy pick up truck redneck.
During the dazzling 80s Mr Petty played in my bffs bad as Cutlass. Was she a BFF?
There wasnt that term back then…
There wasnt that term back then…
Well she was my best friend and we could not be more opposite.
She a weed smoking plaid flannel keg party attender from a shady Sicilian family me in a plunging leather corset 2 sizes to small and laced so tight that when removed you could see lace indentations, Doc Martins and a trench coat…what a sight we were.
We were the greatest of friends and Tom Petty came along on many nights. I never much listened instead I was too busy blasting hairspray and making cat eyes with black liner to pay attention it was a hum in the back ground, not to be listened too- it was gross.
It was head rock.. not head as in head but head as in pot head.. hippy fucks.
Today I was sent the song “You Don’t Know How It Feels”, for review and today I got doubled over
cuz I totally remember Petty’s twang. I think this is 90s Petty but its just as well.
For a brief period of time my dear friend would gladly take me to The Village and deposit me in Tompkins Square park but on the consideration that I couldn’t change the radio or the tape and gave her five bucks.
Quite the deal
So I got alot of Petty. I got alot of Doors and Journey and Rush…. and I survived.
Flash forward and hearing this today made me smile.
The voice is more nasal and annoying than I recall but instead of making my pothead pal have a mellow ride its helping my dear Boss battle a nasty germ war.
So I guess Tom Petty is OK in my book. Nah, I ain’t gonna listen to this song but the 2 times it took to write this up but I will not insult him, and I will not jab too hard.
He makes 2 people I love happy… cool enough with me.
Best use of Petty though on a purely outsider vantage? The scene in Silence of The Lambs when that chick who has to put on the lotion or get the house sings “American Girl”,
right on man.. with a fine Chianti.