Random thought on Jan. 22, before I move back to California from DC:
There are many of us out there, Whole armies in fact. It all started somewhere in our junior high school days, when our older brothers and sisters listened to the likes of Styx or Elton John or something else like that. I remember my older brother getting angry, because after seeing his performance on Saturday night live, I decided to buy an Elvis Costello tape. It was then I knew I was on the right track. Sneaking into gigs at the Roxy or Whiskey a-go-go, drinking cheap beer.
Things happen to some. First were playing Nintendo and drinking cheap beer in front of a T.V. with a dial. Then some got the good news that there was an opening at the place they worked, so it was beer on sale, a new t.v. and full time hours. All for something like 500 bucks a week. Some worked hard and got promoted. They got married or were going to college. We were listening to REM and under our best man tuxedoes, we wore our Doc Martens. Selling out, but still hip. Some did. Some did, but not all. Because its hard to keep going on scraped pennies when your friends are buying there first homes. My friend gave me a ride home in his Mercedes because I didnt have a car. Hell, even his younger brother was working in advertising in San Francisco now.
Conversations with old friends are peppered with well why the hell arent you working? Dont you get tired of living that way?
Newer and younger friends think you somewhat cool, but in more private moments, they scratch their heads and vow theyll never be like you. Is it just the music? Was it the attitude? Was it the mission. I can understand why the older generations of brothers and sisters ran from their music, but we were punks. They couldnt label us so they slapped an X on our generation. A lack of understanding and our own generation couldnt pronounce the words to explain. It was like when the jews called god yaweh, something sacred and unexplainable.
Maybe its not cool to be almost 40 and still rocking in the free world. Maybe I should have traded my dreams for a 30 year fixed interest mortgage. A marriage would sound good right about now. But I wanted to find out the truth on my own. Yeah, my generations armies are dying off. If not in real life, just by the mundane and the mediocre. Theyre now slaves to the job, and the wife (for one reason (alimony) or the other (theyre still married). All of a sudden, the sidways glances and whispers of scandal from when I was 26 and dating a 19 year old are now greeted with grins and slimey pats on the back because Im 31 and dating a 20 year old.
Its not a sexual thing. Shes optimistic. She understands that I want to fight a windmill or two and dont care what I drive. She will no longer admire this and leave by the time shes 23. meanwhile my friends are listening to eminem, getting tattoos ands stealing their kids cds to keep up with whats hip. They dont really understand it, but theyll listen, afraid of being old and a bit closer to the final day. Not me, I wish I were dead. I knew that when I heard avril lavigne for the first time and when I realized how much I really hated a lot of people. Thats my own thing.
Let me tell you, its exhausting. I cant remember when I felt actually good. We had to endure the painful illegal election of a president who drives us into a trumped up war. Its Vietnam in the 2000s. You know, I still have the videos of Watergate. Water who? It may come around again, do I have the strength to do it all again? Its hard enough for me to even want to wake up most mornings. What for? To watch people try to break their backs to drive cars 7 times too big for the parking spots? Do I really need a limp bizkut cd. Cmon people, I lived through the deaths of Janice, Jim and Jimmy, Sid, Darby and Kurt. You tell me what life to live? ABCs Monday Night Football has nothing for me. My family has nothing for me. Music makes me wake up each day, but its harder to find these days. These days all I want to do is just smoke some weed and feel good about nothing at all, because if you have nothing at all, this country makes you feel bad about yourself. They act as if you really wanna be homeless. You must really want to be broke. You must want to be unloved. Its all tied to money. I dont blame anyone. I just blame myself for being too much of a coward to do the wrong thing. Doing the wrong thing is usually thing I would do. But the wrong thing I discuss is the ultimate and final wrong thing. Wrong, wrong, wrong . . . maybe there will be a better day. Maybe there wont. I plan to write 40 essays. Maybe on number 40 Ill be ready for life or death. Either way, its all right with me.
Im beginning to see the light whats so funny bout peace, love and understanding? Im losing my religion. I feel stupid and contagious. Funny, I cant think of anything worth quoting after that one.
nullrandom thought on Jan. 22 before I move back to California from DC:
There are many of us out there, Whole armies in fact. It all started somewhere in our junior high school days, when our older brothers and sisters listened to the likes of Styx or Elton John or something else like that. I remember my older brother getting angry, because after seeing his performance on Saturday night live, I decided to buy an Elvis Costello tape. It was then I knew I was on the right track. Sneaking into gigs at the Roxy or Whiskey a-go-go, drinking cheap beer.
Things happen to some. First were playing Nintendo and drinking cheap beer in front of a T.V. with a dial. Then some got the good news that there was an opening at the place they worked, so it was beer on sale, a new t.v. and full time hours. All for something like 500 bucks a week. Some worked hard and got promoted. They got married or were going to college. We were listening to REM and under our best man tuxedoes, we wore our Doc Martens. Selling out, but still hip. Some did. Some did, but not all. Because its hard to keep going on scraped pennies when your friends are buying there first homes. My friend gave me a ride home in his Mercedes because I didnt have a car. Hell, even his younger brother was working in advertising in San Francisco now.
Conversations with old friends are peppered with well why the hell arent you working? Dont you get tired of living that way?
Newer and younger friends think you somewhat cool, but in more private moments, they scratch their heads and vow theyll never be like you. Is it just the music? Was it the attitude? Was it the mission. I can understand why the older generations of brothers and sisters ran from their music, but we were punks. They couldnt label us so they slapped an X on our generation. A lack of understanding and our own generation couldnt pronounce the words to explain. It was like when the jews called god yaweh, something sacred and unexplainable.
Maybe its not cool to be almost 40 and still rocking in the free world. Maybe I should have traded my dreams for a 30 year fixed interest mortgage. A marriage would sound good right about now. But I wanted to find out the truth on my own. Yeah, my generations armies are dying off. If not in real life, just by the mundane and the mediocre. Theyre now slaves to the job, and the wife (for one reason (alimony) or the other (theyre still married). All of a sudden, the sidways glances and whispers of scandal from when I was 26 and dating a 19 year old are now greeted with grins and slimey pats on the back because Im 31 and dating a 20 year old.
Its not a sexual thing. Shes optimistic. She understands that I want to fight a windmill or two and dont care what I drive. She will no longer admire this and leave by the time shes 23. meanwhile my friends are listening to eminem, getting tattoos ands stealing their kids cds to keep up with whats hip. They dont really understand it, but theyll listen, afraid of being old and a bit closer to the final day. Not me, I wish I were dead. I knew that when I heard avril lavigne for the first time and when I realized how much I really hated a lot of people. Thats my own thing.
Let me tell you, its exhausting. I cant remember when I felt actually good. We had to endure the painful illegal election of a president who drives us into a trumped up war. Its Vietnam in the 2000s. You know, I still have the videos of Watergate. Water who? It may come around again, do I have the strength to do it all again? Its hard enough for me to even want to wake up most mornings. What for? To watch people try to break their backs to drive cars 7 times too big for the parking spots? Do I really need a limp bizkut cd. Cmon people, I lived through the deaths of Janice, Jim and Jimmy, Sid, Darby and Kurt. You tell me what life to live? ABCs Monday Night Football has nothing for me. My family has nothing for me. Music makes me wake up each day, but its harder to find these days. These days all I want to do is just smoke some weed and feel good about nothing at all, because if you have nothing at all, this country makes you feel bad about yourself. They act as if you really wanna be homeless. You must really want to be broke. You must want to be unloved. Its all tied to money. I dont blame anyone. I just blame myself for being too much of a coward to do the wrong thing. Doing the wrong thing is usually thing I would do. But the wrong thing I discuss is the ultimate and final wrong thing. Wrong, wrong, wrong . . . maybe there will be a better day. Maybe there wont. I plan to write 40 essays. Maybe on number 40 Ill be ready for life or death. Either way, its all right with me.
Im beginning to see the light whats so funny bout peace, love and understanding? Im losing my religion. I feel stupid and contagious. Funny, I cant think of anything worth quoting after that one.
nullrandom thought on Jan. 22 before I move back to California from DC:
germany:
damn that's a novel