Category Archives: Radio XXIII

Radio XXIII, side B, track 7: “One More Try” by George Michael, #4 on The Top 88 of ’88

George Michael - One More TryOh, George Michael, so yesterday’s post got a little heavy, huh?  So I thought, maybe since we’ve got yet ANOTHER George Michael song on the countdown, at #4(!!!) no less, that maybe I’d make this a sequel to the “Kissing A Fool” post in which I detailed how one of my roommates came out of the vampire closet.  As you may recall, it involved one of my roommates telling me not that he was gay, like I was expecting him to say, but that he was a vampire who bought his blood on the streets.

One other thing he’d mentioned that night was that he didn’t want anyone else to know.  Well, I certainly wasn’t going to say anything.  One doesn’t cross a vampire.  That’s just common sense.  Sure, I could have told my roommates and told them to keep it a secret, but it was guaranteed that the next time we all got drunk together one of them would swing an arm around Vlad and be like “So you’re a vampire, huh?  What’s that all about?”  And then they’d find ME the next day about a quart low.

Now I had a girlfriend at the time, George Michael, and I DID tell her.  What was I supposed to do, George Michael?  We were sleeping together.  And that’s some pretty great pillow talk.  Unfortunately, despite my dire warning about HIS dire warning, she ended up telling her circle of friends, which would have caused me to break up with her, but I think I may have mentioned we were sleeping together. . .

Anyway, the rest of the year was full of awkward moments that only having a vampire for a roommate can bring.  For Halloween, Vlad super-glued some very realistic fangs to his canines and we all went to one of the dorms where they were having a haunted house fundraiser in the basement.  Everyone else thought Vlad’s costume was terrific.  I had several nightmares the rest of the week.

As spring semester rolled around, Vlad started acting more and more erratic, playing “Mortal Kombat” for 12 hours straight, sleeping all day, skipping classes, and the piece de resistance, purchasing a hand-held crossbow that he practiced with in his room.  My roommates all wondered what the hell was going on, and all I could do was shrug and say “I know, right?”

So it was spring break, and one of my roommates had agreed to drive Vlad to the bus stop for a trip he was taking.  And when my roommate got back, he was holding a large manilla envelope and a puzzled expression on his face.  Vlad had given him the envelope and told him to open it with all our other roommates present.  So when we were all together, we opened up the envelope, and inside were several smaller envelopes, all addressed to us individually.

There was some creepy shit in there, George Michael.  One roommate was told that his daughter would have a good set of lungs.  Another was told that Vlad had to go to Texas to prepare for “The Coming”.  And me, me he told that I would find success with my comic books.  He also told me he’d see me again.  I was the only one he told that to.  Which is just great.  Well, at that point I felt it was fine to let my roommates in on the secret.  They were none too happy I’d kept it from them, but they grudgingly accepted that I was saving my own neck.  Literally.

So yeah, George Michael, that happened.  For real.  I never did see Vlad again, but to this day, I still think about his note and when I’m feeling particularly paranoid, I picture him showing up on my doorstep and it still scares the hell out of me.  After all, he wasn’t entirely wrong.  I can’t speak to my roommates’ predictions, but I did find some success with my comic books.  Not GREAT success, but I’m making them, which is a success in my book.  And I moved to Texas, which was pretty much unthinkable when all this went down.  And I still think about how he said he’d see me again.  That sucks.  And now I regret using that particular phrase. . .

I’ve told this story to a lot of people, George Michael, and now I’m telling it to you.  I figure, if something ever happens to me, especially if it involves finding my body completely devoid of blood, well, you’ve got your first lead right here.  Now let’s listen to this awesome song and take our minds off my inevitable doom.

“One More Try”

<awesome George Michael slow jam>

I’ve had enough
Of danger

And people on the streets

I’m lookin’ out
For angels

Just tryin’ ta find some peace

Now I think it’s time

That you let me knoooow

So if you love me

Say ya love me

But if ya don’t
Just let me go

‘Cause teacher

There are things

That I don’t wanna learn

And the last one I had
Made me cry

So I don’t wanna learn ta
Hold you
Touch yooooooooooooou
Think that you’re mine

Because it ain’t
No joy

For an up
Town boy
Whose teacher has told him good-bye

Good-bye

Good-bye

When you were just
A stranger

And I was at your feet

I didn’t feel
The danger

Now I feel the heat

That look in your eyes

Tellin’ me
Nooooooo

So ya think
That ya love me
Know
That ya need me

I wrote the song
I know it’s wrong, just let me go

And teacher

There are things

That I don’t want ta learn

Oh, the last one I had

Made me cry

So I don’t want ta learn ta
Hold you
Touch yooooooou
Think that you’re mine

Because it ain’t
No joy

For an up
Town boy
Whose teacher has told him
Good-bye

Good-bye

Good-bye

<awesome George Michael slow jam>

So when ya say
Thatcha need me

That you’ll never leave me

I know you’re wrong
You’re not that strong
Let me go

And teacher

There are things

That I still have to learn

But the one thing I have

Is my pride

Oh
So I don’t wanna learn to
Hold you
Touch yooooooooou
Think that you’re mine

Because there ain’t
No joy

For an up
Town boy

Who just is unwillin’ to try
I’m so cold

Inside

Maybe
Just one more try

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