February 27, 2009
In high school I was never especially popular with the girls. They liked me alright, and I did decently well when it came to ‘getting that, getting that, getting that.’ But one of the things I always seemed to notice was that the really pretty girls weren’t getting with the jocks or popular prettyboys or even the sexy, mysterious late-bloomers (hi, my name is Chris). In fact, if you’d asked me back then who they were getting with I’d have said matter-of-factly that those girls were all probably just too hot to get with guys at our school, so probably no one. I was wrong. Hot high school girls are granted a certain kind of power that nobody else possesses. It’s like pussy power (as defined by the 2006 film The Boys and Girls Guide to Getting Down); but it’s unique to that, because it’s fresh and new and only just ripe enough to be used to its full potential. Sorry for the insane rush of innuendo right there, but the power and the pussy come in pairs. And these high school girls, too hot for their own good—and at times even too hot to realize the extent of their power—take it to the next level. That level is musicians. Touring musicians closer to my age, to be more precise. Coming from someone who’s not a musician but knows enough of them to occasionally find myself in their type of situation, there’s little one can do to combat the power of the high school girl (often mistaken for the college freshman girl). Especially for the touring musician, life is like a picnic and every town a different cuisine, so the age and maturity of these girls often fly under the radar, making them more viable—and probably as nubile—as any of the beat-up girls in attendance who actually go to college. It’s only after the charges have been pressed that one might finally realize the frightening truth. But getting back to where I started, it’s not these ill-fated statutory rapist musicians that I feel for. It’s the guys hanging out with these girls in the parking lot during fourth period; pining over them, planning creative ways to ask them to prom, thinking they have a snowball’s chance in hell of making it with them. Because they don’t even know, man. They haven’t the slightest clue that every weekend, these girls are getting rooted (sometimes in the butt—seriously, I have stories) by 22 year old dudes with beards wearing cowboy shirts who play the drums for buzz bands. And it’s just not fair. Writing about this has me fearful for the day I discover my wife or girlfriend is having a daughter.

In high school I was never especially popular with the girls. They liked me alright, and I did decently well when it came to ‘getting that, getting that, getting that.’ But one of the things I always seemed to notice was that the really pretty girls weren’t getting with the jocks or popular prettyboys or even the sexy, mysterious late-bloomers (hi, my name is Chris). In fact, if you’d asked me back then who they were getting with I’d have said matter-of-factly that those girls were all probably just too hot to get with guys at our school, so probably no one.

I was wrong.

Hot high school girls are granted a certain kind of power that nobody else possesses. It’s like pussy power (as defined by the 2006 film The Boys and Girls Guide to Getting Down); but it’s unique to that, because it’s fresh and new and only just ripe enough to be used to its full potential. Sorry for the insane rush of innuendo right there, but the power and the pussy come in pairs. And these high school girls, too hot for their own good—and at times even too hot to realize the extent of their power—take it to the next level.

That level is musicians. Touring musicians closer to my age, to be more precise.

Coming from someone who’s not a musician but knows enough of them to occasionally find myself in their type of situation, there’s little one can do to combat the power of the high school girl (often mistaken for the college freshman girl). Especially for the touring musician, life is like a picnic and every town a different cuisine, so the age and maturity of these girls often fly under the radar, making them more viable—and probably as nubile—as any of the beat-up girls in attendance who actually go to college. It’s only after the charges have been pressed that one might finally realize the frightening truth.

But getting back to where I started, it’s not these ill-fated statutory rapist musicians that I feel for. It’s the guys hanging out with these girls in the parking lot during fourth period; pining over them, planning creative ways to ask them to prom, thinking they have a snowball’s chance in hell of making it with them. Because they don’t even know, man. They haven’t the slightest clue that every weekend, these girls are getting rooted (sometimes in the butt—seriously, I have stories) by 22 year old dudes with beards wearing cowboy shirts who play the drums for buzz bands. And it’s just not fair.

Writing about this has me fearful for the day I discover my wife or girlfriend is having a daughter.

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