A Lars List

The Desert Island List

After reading the recent New York Times list of most desirable travel destinations, I couldn’t help but notice how self-indulgently pompous one can get when sharing such subjective trivialities in the name of public service.

Oakland? Number 5? Okay, I see you working. But…no, I don’t. Oakland? Panama City number 1? Whatever. Lemme tell you, folks, I lived in Panama City for nearly 20 years, six of my seven sons were born in the coastal village of Pedasi. There is absolutely no parking, half of the movie theaters do not have air conditioning and none of them have captain’s chairs, Diet Dr. Pepper was banned in 1989, and you can’t find a good falafel in the entire country. So, buyer beware.

That said, here is my list of ten albums that, were I stranded on an island, I would thrive with until my rescue or heroic “escape.” The temptation to dazzle my readers with obscure and intellectually challenging titles is great, but when I stopped and imagined actually being stranded on an island and having to live with my list, I found myself leaning on the albums and songs that would not drive me totally bat bonkers.

In no specific order:

Born to Run        Bruce Springsteen

Vs.                          Pearl Jam

August and Everything After           Counting Crows

Blood Sugar Sex Magik          Red Hot Chili Peppers

Purple Rain           Prince

Sign O’ the Times        Prince          

Appetite for Destruction          Guns N’ Roses   

Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band      The Beatles

Achtung Baby         U2

The Wild, the Innocent & the E Street Shuffle                    The Boss

“Huh?” you say. “What a garbage list of commercial crap!”

Here’s my logic:

The Counting Crows, U2,  and The Boss when I just wanna cruise the island, pick coconuts, and spear fish – while singing my sun-parched lungs out; Red Hot Chili Peppers and Pearl Jam when I’m in the mood for some good old-fashioned air guitar action (altho air bass is my specialty); I’d startle the wild boars and sand crabs with my funky Prince stylings, complete with mascara drawn on from beach tar residue; when angry at my present state of being stranded, I would blast Guns N’ Roses’ “It’s So Easy” until I calmed down and got back to the biznezz of spearing fish; then, once calm and back on my game, Sgt. Pepper’s would bring me back to the potential of man and the poetry of existence; and finally, by day’s end, exhausted from all of that stone cold jamming, sobbing, sneering, and sophisticated spear fishing, no song has ever been more successful at escorting me off to dreamsville than The Wild, the Innocent & the E Street Shuffle’s “New York City Serenade.”

Now, hit me with your list and let’s hope we all get home safely.


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