When I was a kid I’d sit there and listen to grownups prattle on endlessly about things that couldn’t seem more dull to me. This included a wide, wide swath of topics and a broad definition of the term ‘grownups,’ as anyone who was old enough to drive was pretty much considered a grownup and any topic that didn’t almost immediately touch on GI Joe, Transformers, comics, Dungeons and Dragons or skateboarding was considered dull; dull at a “white house briefing on national crop reports” pamphlet level. So, if my sixteen year old babysitter was talking to her friend about some boy being a jerk, it had the same resonance as my mom’s friend talking about Reganomics. Shit was insufferably boring and I remember wondering exactly what the fuck was wrong with grownups that they were so content to talk about boring shit, and even more to the point, not even DO anything while they talked about it.
I mean FUCK, man. These were adults! They could be shooting paintballs and driving dunebuggies and hanging out in pornography stores if they wanted to, but no, they’re sitting around my mom’s dining room table eating risotto and discussing what kind of metal best works for conducting heat while preparing cheese based fondues. It doesn’t make any fucking sense. The main line of argument against me doing the stuff I wanted to do was always that I wasn’t old enough, and whenever I got to be old enough to make my own decisions and/or money, I’d be allowed to do whatever I wanted. So, uh, YOU’RE ALREADY GROWNUPS! WHY ARE YOU HERE TALKING ABOUT SUB PRIME MORTGAGES? GET OUT THERE AND DO SOMETHING FUN!!!!
Alas, they never did, and as such I have no role model for how to be a fun adult. Well, there’s the Dukes of Hazzard, Richard Simmons and Wilt Chamberlain. I remember them seeming to be pretty fun back when I was a kid, but well, there was something about each of these guys that was just a little off. I didn’t feel comfortable really emulating the Dukes. They were a little too uh…”family friendly” and I got the distinct feeling that Bo and Luke shared a bed and the whole thing with Daisy was pretty weird. She was their cousin, right? Well, that’s legal at least. Anyway, not the point. Never mind.
So, I grew up and all the while wondered when it was going to become interesting to talk about real estate or various kinds of wood or taxes or the state of unemployment or boys and well, guess what? It never did. AND, to top it off, all the shit that kids like to talk about: dinosaur guts and magical space potions and alien women with six tits, that shit got boring to talk about too. Now, I’m like a Hatian barge person, adrift with no land to call my own. I don’t want to talk to anyone about anything. And it’s not that I’m anti social. Far from it. It’s just that there’s nothing interesting happening. Well, that’s not true at all, but there’s LIVING interesting things (which we’re all doing. This is one of the most fascinating times in the history of humanity for sure) there’s READING about interesting things, and then there’s having interesting conversations, which is really hard to do and rare. Usually they turn into monologues or games of one-upsmanship and either way, SNORE. You want to know how an interesting conversation starts? Here:
“Hey, I got some whiskey, wanna go into the back yard? I got a shotgun and an old car back there.”
“We’re having a blowjob contest and we need a judge. Are you busy this afternoon?”
Shit like that. Shit that leads into LIVING. Not just sitting around dissecting things. Of course, there’s an important need to hash shit out with other beings. Yeah yeah. That’s what you do while you eat, or while you’re waiting around to get tired enough to sleep or whatever. You go “Dude, how about that Mckenzie Phillips shit, huh?” And well, unless you’re talking to the kind of person that says something like “Yeah, I see where she’s coming from. Papa John was a hot chunk of man” well, the conversation’s basically over before it begins. You say “yeah, that shit’s fucked up” and then you both recount what you can about the situation, based on whatever creepy interviews you heard and somehow walk away feeling like you’ve had an interaction, but really, nothing has happened. No real information has been transferred. Nothing has changed. Nothing.
Anyway, I’m not trying to get all transcendental or abstruse or anything, just saying. Being a grownup is dull, even though we are allowed to buy guns and go to titty bars and have as many puppies as we want and eat frosting for lunch every day. That shit pales in comparison to the thoughts of what it would be like. Right? Yeah. Uh…what else? Oh, this:
I was thinking after yesterday’s post (“Good Morning Chicken”) about that Gaslight Anthem band and I was wondering something. Namely, do those guys really just love dancing that much? I mean, after the show is that what they do? They go out to the dancehalls and two step and shit? Seems mad gay to me, man. I can’t imagine that’s what they do. I mean, are there really such things as dancehalls anymore? Anyone?
Does anyone out there hang out with coco these days? His buddies are like “hey coco, we’re gonna get some beers, wanna come? And he’s like, “nah, I heard about a warehouse across town where there’s gonna be some honky tonk and rock and roll and some pretty good dancers. I’m gonna go down there and give em a little bit of the old “jump back jack.” Does that happen? Or is it just a bit? Is it like a way to recall the 1980’s version of the 1950’s in their songs? Because, since yesterday I was thinking about this, and it seems to me, if these guys are legit (and I’m not saying they’re not) that it’s all combs and jeans and dancing and crappy old dvds on the bus and trailers full of dirtbikes and shit, and well…I dunno, sure beats straightening your hair for an hour and then having bible study. It’s just funny. What’s happened here? I thought rock and roll was about seeing boobs and throwing things. Well, in the words of Andre 2000 (back before his upgrade) “aw, hell naw, but yet it’s that too!”
Okay, I’m really scatterbrained right now. I’m gonna go work on a new song.