True story. This song was written by me one day after seeing a really awful band at The Sky Club in Masury, Ohio. A couple of friends and I went out of boredom to see a couple of bands that the flyer billed as "old school rock and roll" or something to that effect, which to me could mean anything from rockabilly to garage, bar rock or anything blues-based. These bands were none of the above.
(Well, alright - in all fairness, the second band might have been, but we didn't stick around to find out. The opener was THAT bad.)
I think the flyer even had a hot rod or something on it. So imagine my surprise when we sat down and waited for almost an hour, to eventually hear something I can only describe as slow-as-Moses, self-indulged "rock" music. Granted, I'd never heard of either band, and couldn't even tell you now what they were called, but I figured, "Hey! I like checking out bands I've never heard before, and this looks like something I might enjoy. We should go!". Little did I know, it was false advertising.
The only thing in the lyrics that's untrue is that the singer did not, in fact, look like Beaver Cleaver.
