Unforgiven over Metallica

I've probably lost a friend with my earlier remarks about Metallica, and that's sad because I learned to enjoy the band and I most assuredly adored the Metallica fan.

Back in 1999, when I'd returned to Springfield, the young colleague started to tell me about meeting Lars Ulrich in a St. Louis bar. "Who?" I said. He gave me the look that any young person will give someone older who's clueless, and delivered a brief description of Mr. Ulrich's brilliance on drums. Then he went on with his story.

I then started to buy all of Metallica's albums. I was slow on the uptake--look, I was born 21 years before the young storyteller was. And Metallica is an acquired taste, I believe, for people my age. Last winter, I'd uploaded all our CDs to my computer, and I was quite surprised recently when I found "Enter Sandman" likable. I'd always loved "Fade to Black."

But my former colleague can be very unforgiving. After Matt Damon made a dismissive remark about Ulrich in some talk show or other, the colleague steadfastly refused to see any of Damon's films, with one exception.

I guess I'm toast.

OK, OK, I did e-mail the young fellow one scathing piece about the Motor City Madman and his politics.