advice column, agent orange, aids, american por, Asperger’s syndrome, bobby brady, brady bunch, Charles Nelson RIley, dear rob, Don McLean, elvis presley, eva braun, Joe Namath, liberace, little mermaid, marijuana, marsha brady, michael jackson, Pepsi, Prsilla Presley, Richard Nixon, Rip Taylor, the beatles, Ursula, wolverines
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I know I just asked a question yesterday, but I think I speak for a lot of disenchanted 70’s loving hanger-ons when I ask what did Don McLean truly mean when he wrote American Pie?
Great Question John,
To truly answer this question, once must do a thorough line-by-line analysis of this American rock classic:
And I knew if I had my chance
That I could make those people dance
And maybe they’d be happy for a while
Mclean thought a lot of himself, despite the aforementioned lack of talent and imagination.
But February made me shiver
With every paper I’d deliver
Mclean was an enormous pussy.
Bad news on the doorstep
I couldn’t take one more step
Mclean would often be seen gazing at newspapers or any piece of paper for hours on end, a motionless husk of a human being. It would later be revealed this is becasue his parents were first cousins.
I can’t remember if I cried
When I read about his widowed bride
Mclean is the first reported case of Aspergers syndrome.
But something touched me deep inside
The day the music died
Mclean would often touch himself in times of emotional crisis. He was only invited to one funeral in his life!
So bye-bye, Miss American Pie
An homage to the American tradition of objectifying food and eating women.
Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry
An allegory for the complete arid environment that has become the American soul.
Representational of America’s collective malaise and desire to simply be drunk until we meet our maker.
Did you write the book of love
And do you have faith in God above
If the Bible tells you so?
Now do you believe in rock and roll
Can music save your mortal soul
And can you teach me how to dance real slow?
This verse is an homage to Mclean’s love of going to proms well into thirties. However, the man had standards, and would only take girls that could answer these questions correctly. The answers are as follows: Yes, No, What, Maybe, I mean are you asking if it exists, no only Jerry Falwell can, yes, but it’s very illegal.
Well, I know that you’re in love with him
‘Cause I saw you dancin’ in the gym
You both kicked off your shoes
Man, I dig those rhythm and blues
At Mclean’s 37th prom which ironically was on his 37th Birthday, his date Linda Sue made up with her old boyfriend while Mclean was learning tips from the musical director chaperoning the event. Instead of causing a scene Mclean took a fifth of jack into a far corner and masturbated while weeping.
I was a lonely teenage broncin’ buck
With a pink carnation and a pickup truck
But I knew I was out of luck
The day the music died
This is Mclean’s testimony on the stand when being tried for statutory creepiness.
Now for ten years we’ve been on our own
And moss grows fat on a rollin’ stone
But that’s not how it used to be
Mclean was often known for having no concept of physics, biology or reality. The verse, but that’s not how it used to be was added by his manager in hopes people would believe Mclean’s new claims on the natural order of the universe and be scared shitless by the repercussions.
And a voice that came from you and me
And Ursula from the Little Mermaid
Oh, and while the king was looking down
The jester stole his thorny crown
The courtroom was adjourned
No verdict was returned
A verse supposedly about Elvis Presley again changed by his Mclean’s manager. The original verse was “Oh, and while the King shot his television, Prsilla was sticking her head in an oven, the mascara ruined the chicken, time for karate!”
I won’t even dignify this dirty commie lyric. WOLVERINES!!!!!
Helter skelter in a summer swelter
The birds flew off with a fallout shelter
Eight miles high and falling fast
Mclean was one of the earliest users of recreational agent orange. On weekends, he would go to the back of various wild preserves and release the explosive toxin on unsuspecting wildlife.
It landed foul on the grass
The players tried for a forward pass
With the jester on the sidelines in a cast
Once again Mclean’s insanity had to be drawn in. He wanted to pay homage to Joe Namath, but specifically Namath’s work on the Brady Bunch. I was once again able to grab tear sheets from Mclean’s original notes. “Marsha had a fantastic ass. But Bobby’s is top class. Joe Namath smiled last.”
Now the halftime air was sweet perfume
While the sergeants played a marching tune
We all got up to dance
Oh, but we never got the chance
Cause the players tried to take the field
The marching band refused to yield
Because the marching band kids were tired of being ostracized and asked to prom by only Mclean.
Do you recall what was revealed
The day the music died?
Mclean’s go-to line after prom
Oh, and there we were all in one place
A generation lost in space
With no time left to start again
So come on, Jack be nimble, Jack be quick
Jack Flash sat on a candlestick
‘Cause fire is the devil’s only friend
Oh, and as I watched him on the stage
My hands were clenched in fists of rage
No angel born in Hell
Could break that Satan’s spell
Mclean is referring to his first Liberace concert. Rhinestones angered Mclean even more than being stood up for prom.
And as the flames climbed high into the night
To light the sacrificial rite
I saw Satan laughing with delight
The day the music died
Using Nostradamus like powers, Mclean predicted the fate of Michael Jackson’s hair when he would endorse Pepsi products.
I met a girl who sang the blues
Mclean asked her to prom
And I asked her for some happy news
Like would you go to prom with me?
But she just smiled and turned away
She didn’t smile
I went down to the sacred store
Where I’d heard the music years before
But the man there said the music wouldn’t play
And in the streets, the children screamed
The lovers cried and the poets dreamed
Poets were notorious dicks in the 60s and 70s and would often ignore the screams of small children so they could keep playing their bongo drums.
But not a word was spoken
The church bells all were broken
Quasimodo was a huge influence on Mclean’s style.
And the three men I admire most
The Father, Son and the Holy Ghost
Rip Taylor, Charles Nelson RIley and Richard Nixon
They caught the last train for the coast
The day the music died
God has abandoned us all for a universe he created in 5 days with 3 days of rest.