…an occasional post in a series of pointless babble on things I find myself no longer caring all that much about...
I’ve come to classify my entire family as out-a-sync’ers. My grandfather was too young for WWI; to old for WWII. My father to young for WWII and Korea; and to old and not in the right place and time for Vietnam. Me, well, I was way too young for the sixties youth movement; I was born on what they say was the absolute last year of the baby-boom. I did catch a bit of punk and by the time one of my piers got around to labeling my generation with the letter X; that designation was swiftly co-opted by the kids ten years younger than me.
So, I sit here, being accused of being a boomer; AND if I scramble and try to squirm my way out of that confinement, I then have to establish where I was; AND fake just how saddened I was by untimely death of Kurt “fuckin’-junkie” Co”brain”dead. Once you deny that Ka-urt was the “BOB DYLAN” of our generation, well the drum-circle party invites tend to just dry right up.
I stopped crying about this years ago. I’ve honestly become quite content to have never been part of a demographic group that had any impact what-so-ever on anything at all. Oh, we probably buoyed the viewership numbers for the last episode of M*A*S*H; and we may have helped Eddie Vedor’s career a tad that week when we showed a slight bit of interest in the music coming out what would later be known to be the death throws of the Musical Industrial Complex. – I gave up on rock and roll that day in 1984 when my angst ridden heroes jumped on to the simulcast stage started telling me I should give a hoot about… [list ANY cause here].
Since there never was any white riot; and the guns of brixton never did go off… and since I realized that I didn’t really enjoy pumping my fists in the air while ‘my’ bands started to perform what were basically advertising jingles for Che inspired, Yale educated leftist spoon fed Central American America hating hippy-communistas… I turned to dance music [after a brief and oh-so-locally trendy spin through the Nashville back-catalog of heroin soaked country stars of the 40's and 50's]… I also concluded that business, NOT art was a far more creative pursuit; a far more engaging performance piece than fiddling away while the ice melted off ones skate blades.
I gave up on all this long ago, so why should I care which kid from the “Vietnam Generation” sits twiddling his or her thumbs in the ‘big chair’ at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue? Why should I care what flavor of draft dodger defines policy for the next 20 years or so… Why should I believe them now when they tell me the world is heating up; when they once thought that lighting up and smokin’ a dube was the answer to all societies problems. Why should I trust them after they spent years and years bouncing from one “concern” to the next, all the while, changing their morality each time a whim took hold of them; then simply re-wrote their own handbooks to rationalize each decision to ensure no personal blame for their own failures, failures that could not be assigned to themselves personally. Why should I care about these people who use therapy as a shield and define non-commitment as personal growth.
Now, let me stop calling that kettle black and admit that I too can change my tune at the flick of a touch-wheel; AND am more than likely to have multiple opinions on any one topic at any given time. I do however try to let this be known; AND although I have absolutely pathetic skills when it comes to expression, I try and leave some scraps of thoughts between the lines to indicate that although I may appear to be foaming at the mouth; I am open to another way of looking at each one of these little things we are supposed to be so worked up over at various scheduled intervals along each years calender of concern… I predict an unusually warm Spring, Summer and Fall…
…and, another ramble comes to a close. If you feel you have wasted your time; then my objective has been met. Stay tuned for more cohesive diatribes on more unique and compact topics. Even though I don’t care too much about much of anything these days, it doesn’t mean I’m going to keep quiet about it…
