Pour Some Sugar on Me
I’m pretty sure metal kids are born metal. Just come out of the womb rebel yelling in little tiny denim vests.
They must.
I mean a true metal kid could be hard to find in 2023. But in the 80s, that was purebred shit.
Raised by MTV, cassette tapes, and car radios.
In the 4th Grade I heard “Pour Some Sugar on Me” by DEF LEPPARD all day, every day, for what seemed like the entire school year.
But not the studio recording. A live rendition from the kid I sat next to.
Every school had one. The metal kid. Jean jacket, acid wash, black t-shirt, high top shoes and long hair.
I don’t even know how you get to be so metal so young. I was still wearing douchebag kid gear. Metal kid had a full blown style. An entire identity. I wish I could remember his name. I want to say Bryan. Maybe it was Randy. Most likely Jason. He didn’t excel at school or at least the 4th grade. Looking back maybe he had a stressed family life, parents who partied. Perhaps a big brother who was in a band. But he was fully formed metal. I was still on New Kids on the Block & scared of Quiet Riot music videos.
Our teacher had partnered us up for an entire semester. Not being my first choice, I was a little bummed. I knew metal kid was happy because then he could copy off of my work. I let anyone copy, I didn’t care.
Instead of doing schoolwork, which is so NOT metal, he sat head down, long hair falling over his face and slamming his body back and forth between the wooden desktop and the attached metal seat.
With each slam, a lyric.
Pour.
Some.
Sugar.
On.
Me.
Every single day for months.
I don’t remember anything else that I learned in the 4th grade.
His influence is not forgotten.
I salute you, Def Leppard kid.