I never watched Miami Vice. I knew enough about it to appreciate the in-jokes in Grand Theft Auto: Vice City, though, and I loved the soundtrack the instant I heard it. Not that I had the soundtrack, mind you. I had radio.
I became obsessed with Crockett's Theme one night in 1989, when I was heading into a low point. Low like fifteen, out of shape, knowing My Poppy wasn't doing that well...really low. So low I was listening to WPAT. The muzac station. I never listened to the muzac station willingly before that night, but missed it something awful when it was sold a few years later. This is why:
I'd saved up enough money to see a doctor about my migraines, because the constant crying and sitting in the dark was getting annoying. He gave me some iron supplements and helpfully suggested I stay away from McDonald's. I haven't been to McDonalds' since 1983, but I didn't bother telling him that. I just went home and wrote silly violent stories, and was encouraged to take the iron the next time I was dizzy. You know what iron supplements do to someone with digestive problems? They make them worse. You know what a fifteen-year-old who just keeps bloating until she can't breathe ends up doing? Abusing Correctol. Yeah. My "anorexic" phase only lasted three days, which is another reason my memory lapses are a blessing, but during those three days, I kept picking out Crockett's Theme on my synth, and crying, but mainly picking out Crockett's Theme, and watching Monty Python.
14 years later, I found the song on Emotion 98.3 as I mowed down Vice City drug dealers in a golf cart and was so happy to hear it I nearly disturbed the sexy man-cat leaning on my leg. He purred and rubbed on my elbow as I drove into the water. It was a good night.
Remember kids, music can save you.
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