Derek: I am making a Morrissey birthday post for Line Out, if you can get it up today. If tomorrow is better, we can make it belated.
Grant: I will put it up. You still doing Caperin'?
Derek: I plan on Caperin', yes. I am going to eat a garden slug and talk about Tom Petty. "IF THAT'S COOL".
Grant: You could have just made this Caperin'.
Derek: I'll add a few things to it and make it Caperin'. AWESOME THANKS!
Grant: NO! Thank you.

I remember an exact moment in high school when my life changed. The punkers that I spent all of my time with found out about a trick to make fake ATM check deposits and then being able to withdraw money that you didn't have in your account. It was a Tuesday night, I had a trigonometry test the next day that I really had to study for. The punkers planned to pull the ATM heist and buy meth to try for the first time. That sounded a lot more fun than studying the laws of cosines. I opted to stay home to study and listen to a record I bought earlier that day. Two weeks later, half of the punker crew was arrested for petty larceny and possession. By that time I was obsessed with Strangeways, Here We Come by the Smiths.

• Fortunate Teens Party With Morrissey, 1994

There was something about the Smiths that made it feel like being smart was okay, and that being gentle and kind was a thing to strive for. It went against a lot of things that were ingrained in my brains in Ohio, being tough, being mean, drinking a lot of beer, smashing things. It wasn't unnecessarily extreme like the straight-edge movement, but positive in a more genuine way. You could eat a ham sandwich while listening to Meat Is Murder without somebody attempting to beat the absolute shit out of you.

I first saw Morrissey in 1994. It was in Cleveland, Ohio. I hardly had enough money to buy a ticket and had to get a ride to the show with some people I didn't know. My mother was dating a man at who had a glass water tank bottle full of coins in his closet. For some reason, I was at his house waiting for the ride from strangers and I filled my pockets with quarters to buy a shirt. I remember guessing that the shirts would be $20, so I had 40 quarters in the each front pocket of my pants. I was a Morrissey obsessive at this point, I wore a gigantic cable knit sweater because I thought it was Morrissey-like. At the show, we somehow inched up to the very front of the crowd during the opening group called Gallon Drunk. Eventually Morrissey took over, and during the third song I did that thing that people sometimes do at Morrissey shows. I climbed onstage and hugged him.

To me, Morrissey did everything right with his career until 1998. The fair-to-middling Malajusted LP had just been released, and he was playing in Chicago where I was living at the time. It was a very cold night, and the tickets were expensive. He played two-and-a-half songs before announcing that he was too sick to continue. That was it for me too. I saw him again in 2008 or so, but it seemed more like a Las Vegas revue at that point; I'd stopped paying attention.

There are so many weird and wonderful things about Morrissey and the Smiths. The back pocket gladiolas, the unneeded hearing aids, band-aids over the nipples, flirtations with fascism, a Twinkle cover song, obsessed Latinos, fans that emulate everything about him, lawsuits, seclusion & tantrums. Remembering way back to high school, so many people absolutely hated him, the Smiths, and their fans. But wow, if there was ever a person who wrote words that helped so many lost souls, it was the Mozzer. It helped me understand that the world is weird and unfair, but the only possible response is educated positivity.

"How vulgar and stupid. This is 4th grade bathroom humour—imbecilic all the way." - Ken April 27 2009