Illegal Foreign Object

The anniversary of the passing of the mighty Jimi Hendrix came and went a little over a week ago. I paused to acknowledge the day, but life is busy — the timing didn’t allow for proper reflection.

Jimi, the physical embodiment of musical exploration and message over money, stepped off this mortal coil seven years before I was born. I found a wrapped Axis: Bold As Love among my parents’ records when I was 7 years old. It suitably blew my mind — I snuck it back into their collection after hearing “Exp”. Neither my ears nor the Fisher Price record player was ready for such a sound.

Seven years after that moment, Wayne’s World re-introduced me to Jimi, thanks to Dana Carvey’s hilarious “Foxy Lady” donut joint scene. Donna Dixon, Lithofayne Pridgon — we’re all just dogs chasing our tails in a circle. “All seven and we’ll watch them fall”, indeed.

A few months later, Jimi was the soundtrack of my first beach trip after moving to Costa Rica. I was 15, and my dad had traveled back to Texas, leaving me to my own devices. In true blue rebellious teenager fashion, I immediately skipped school, hopped on a bus with my brother Chris, and pushed off toward Playa Condovac. I was reticent, but Chris dutifully talked me into the adventure. I don’t have a clue what happened that Friday at school — what I do know is that we boarded a bus at around 6 a.m. and began the long trek to the Pacific Ocean. 

Drinking from a plastic bucket full of margaritas along the way (you read that correctly), we rode that hot-ass bus for what seemed like forever, taking turns sneaking a nap so no one would steal our backpacks. I still remember opening my eyes in my seat to a lady standing next to me with her armpit in my face — damn thing looked like Sam Elliot staring back at me. The little girl in one of the seats in front of us who went out of her way to turn around and face us whenever she needed to cough was also a joy. 

When we reached our last stop, we pooled our money to take a pirate taxi the final 20 minutes to the water. We hit the beach filthy, sweaty, and probably stumbling. The ocean was beautiful.

These moments solidify a brotherhood that lasts the ups, downs, and all-rounds of a 3-decade friendship, not sitting in a random Geography class and listening to some asshole yap endlessly about archipelagos and estuaries.

Soon enough, other people began to arrive. Playa Condovac was a private beach — no way we could have gotten into those beachfront condos without knowing someone with some money. Luckily, we had a place to crash, an acoustic guitar, and Jimi Hendrix’s The Ultimate Experience on CD. We must’ve played “Castles Made Of Sand” and “Little Wing” 50 times that trip.

We laughed, jammed, and walked countless miles of sand while forging bonds that would last forever. We also might have had a bit too much to drink and passed out on some tennis courts.

Jimi was with us every step of the way.

Track List:

1. All Along The Watchtower (Bob Dylan cover) 10/10
2. Purple Haze 9/10
3. Hey Joe (Billy Roberts cover) 10/10
4. The Wind Cries Mary 10/10
5. Angel 10/10
6. Voodoo Child (Slight Return) 10/10
7. Foxy Lady 9/10
8. Burning Of The Midnight Lamp 10/10
9. Highway Chile 9/10
10. Crosstown Traffic 10/10
11. Castles Made Of Sand 10/10
12. Long Hot Summer Night 7/10
13. Red House 10/10
14. Manic Depression 10/10
15. Gypsy Eyes 7/10
16. Little Wing 10/10
17. Fire 9/10
18. Wait Until Tomorrow 8/10
19. The Star-Spangled Banner (live) (John Stafford Smith) 8/10
20. Wild Thing (live) (Troggs cover) 8/10

Grade: 92