In the summer of 1989 my family moved to the rural souther tier of New York state. I had moved out and stayed in a one bedroom apartment with my friends girlfriend, I then stayed with that friends angelically patient family in an attempt to finish my senior year in high school. I managed to mess up that incredibly generous situation and packed my garbage bag of clothes and with tail tucked joined my family at their new backwoods home. Miraculously there was one kid at that rural school who loved punk rock and skateboarding and we quickly became inseparable. My mom in an attempt to soften the blow of failure bought me a cd player for christmas. My country punk rock friend and I salivated over a trip to the legendary record store in Buffalo: Home of the Hits. We eventually got there and my friend had convinced me to buy this Green Day album he had read about in some fanzine he managed to mail order. We both became the World's Biggest Green Day Fans that spring. Spring bled into summer and I spent that summer restlessly prowling that countryside and the tiny village at it's center. I would make the 14 mile skate on rough rural pavement to his house daily (and the pitch black walk home). We didn't have a portable radio so while we were skating around that miniscule town in the relentless buggy heat of that farmland we would loudly sing green day songs. The longing pubescent romanticism suited our situation perfectly. While green day would put out two more incredible albums they would eventually fade from my interest and I lost my superfandom. But listening to this album for the first time in a long time I am reminded that I've committed all the lyrics to memory and I remember just how fun they are to sing with a friend and skateboard no where in particular.
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