No Sleep Til Brooklyn. That's about all of the lyrics that I know of that song. I'm sure if I heard the song on the radio that I would be able to sing more, but it has been a while since I've heard any music by The Beastie Boys.
I use to love the Beastie Boys. Or maybe it wasn't me that loved them. That's right; I didn't. It was actually my brother who loved them. But he played their album enough on our daily commute to high school that I too developed a liking for their music.
That was in the early 1990s, when my family lived near Brooklyn, but it was Brooklyn, Michigan - not the Brooklyn that you'll find by taking the L train from Union Square. Tonight, I found that Brooklyn. I hadn't been there yet - or at least not since I moved to the city. But a lawyer friend invited me out that way to watch a movie, and since I'm a sucker for procrastinating in my grad school studies, I went. I reasoned that I could study on the Subway, but I didn't.
The people on the subway were much too distracting, and much more interesting than the text I attempted to read. And besides, I got nervous that I might miss my stop if I was too buried in the book. I am already prone to getting lost as is and I really didn't want to risk a subway mishap this evening.
So I finally get to where I think I'm going, but then I end up at the wrong house. I went to the one labeled 146 rather than 149. I'm not sure why I did this, but I suspect it may have something to do with football. Ever since my high school crush...