“Bear Hair 1” is the second song on Bear Hair, and we almost never play it live. There’s a very good reason for this: it’s arranged strictly for a three-piece, and when we played it live a while ago, all the rest of the band could do was dance in the audience (although that seemed very fun).

This song is made up of three instances in my life that wove a pretty thick mane of “bear hair,” which was a code for me when I was younger that meant I was going through some trouble. (I never say that anymore. Did I mention all these songs were written over 3 years ago?) Anyways, I’ll break it up stanza by stanza.

This one’s for Shane Bennett from my past
We were 6 years old when he moved away
to his grandfather’s in Naperville
for reasons mom couldn’t explain
But I learned about the widow-maker in the closet
and the man left swinging from it

The first friend I can ever remember having was Shane. I was his friend in preschool and kindergarten, and we used to play this game where we’d set up these building blocks in a fake chimney…only to BLAST through them and scare everybody, even though we all knew what was coming. It was very fun. Through us, our moms became friends, which led to us visiting each other’s houses a lot.

Shane was an interesting kid. He was the first one to ever tell me video games and TV would rot my brains, which you’d usually expect to hear from parents. He also ate paper, which comes up in another song on the album. He had an obsessive nature regarding X-Men, and he loved to torment his sisters…which meant, I also loved to torment his sisters. However, Shane’s life took an early turn for the worse.

Shane’s father killed himself when we were both either 5 or 6. He hung himself in the closet, and odds are, it happened when we were both in the house. However, I didn’t realize this until later, when Shane was quickly hustled to his grandparents’s house in Naperville, and I never saw him again. I didn’t know that anything bad had happened; I just wanted my friend back. I asked my mom about it when I was 8. It was a really foggy day, and I was in the playground that was adjacent to our backyard, standing around, being absently upset, wondering why the only friend I had was gone. And when she told me the truth, I cried the first really hard cry I can remember: I was ashamed at how selfish I was, and I kept trying to put myself in his shoes. The reason this vignette is included is because, as I said, this was the first true cry I can remember.

This one’s for the man outside The White House in Woodstock, IL
I filled in on drums that night
I wasn’t informed of all the skinheads there
They dragged him to a place with dimmer lights
I heard a six-on-one of pain from the back window
and I kept my young eyes low

This is another true story of, oddly enough, one of my first D.I.Y. show experiences ever. I was 14, and was filling in on drums for a punk band called Arrogant Future. The band was offered a show all the way out in Woodstock, at a seedy-looking house called The White House. Believe me when I say seedy; there were leopard-print-wearing girls doing coke in the bathroom that didn’t even flinch when I accidentally walked in, innumerable puddles of beer on the floor, and, worst of all, skinheads and 77s everywhere. If you’re not familiar with 77s, look them up. Awful. Fuck, one of the BANDS was called “The 77s.”

I was very young and absolutely terrified to be there. Our set didn’t go over well, but luckily, we were opening, and almost no one was there yet. After that, I tried to avoid everybody in that building…because I was scared. I was very scared. It was a world I didn’t understand and didn’t plan to.

I snuck out to the garage, where there was a group of 6-7 guys talking about politics. I don’t like political discussions, because they usually turn into political arguments…and I also heard a really drunk guy shouting very not-skinhead-friendly statements in the house, very audibly through the door to the garage. I could sense things were going to end badly, so I went outside and waited until we left. Eventually, the rest of the band piled into the van, and through the back window, I could see 6 guys lining up on the street, with one guy on the ground. To this day, I can’t tell you for sure, but it looked like they were lining him up for a curbstomp. The rest of the band told me to look away, and I did exactly that. I still get the chills when I sing/talk/think about this.

This one’s for yet another one of my ex-girlfriends
Sorry I wanted to be the small black piece between your teeth
that embarrasses you when you hack at a small
I know that you’re trying
And I don’t know a thing about the new you,
but I know that we’re both okay

This is the least upsetting of the verses, which makes me wonder why it’s last. It’s about someone I dated who I will not name, because they may read this. But it’s very self-explanatory. It’s included because it was also a very formative moment of my life, just like the other 2. It helped me grow up and learn to stop being an embarrassment to the person I’m with. Yeah, that was actually a personality I developed. It was kind of awful. Thanks, being 15! The point is, we’re absolutely fine now, and much better as friends, although I’ll never be as familiar with her as I was then. Even the new me can’t reclaim that intimacy.

The repeated chorus of this is:
“Some things are best left not discussed, but I must, but I must, but I must!” ,
and I believe that’s the truth.