It's Only Teenage Waistband

I am not from your time period. I’m from a generation long ago and far away. Long before the Internet and I phones. Before DVD’s and even, believe it or don’t, before CD’s. A time when "body art" was only on people fresh from military prison. A time when your skateboard and comic books were in the closet right next to the other shit you stopped needing when you turned twelve. Back in a time when we pulled our pants all the way up past our ass. Past our ass with pride! It was called the"late seventies/early eighties".

Looked upon as a waste of a decade by everyone during the eighties, the seventies were pretty uneventful. Not much was really going on back then.

President Jimmy Carter, of all people, had the keys to the White House in his pocket. That’s right, he was a president long before he was an asshole! He was the second worst president in political history. I’m pretty certain the winner of the "Name the Worst Commander in Chief" contest will be announced in January of ’09.

The seventies, was the decade of the shortages. There were loads of them. There was a fuel shortage, a beef shortage, an energy shortage, and a shortage of jobs. There was an overabundance of nothing, save bad fashion. The two biggest names in fashion design back then, were Poly and Ester.

There were no homeless in the seventies. Back then they were called hobos. You could kick them and they didn’t seem to mind. An early form of anger management, if you will. Lose your job? Kick a hobo! Car breaks down . . . fix your car, drive to a train yard, and then kick a hobo! It was a simple life for good simple folk (unless you were a hobo . . . the kicking, obviously).

There was a shrill and wicked sound coming over what was then known as a radio. It was called "Disco" music and for all intents and purposes, it sucked. The disco era did however, have one redeeming value . . . it ended. Well, it ended for heterosexuals, anyway.

Fast forward to about '78, and that's where I step into the picture.

I’m paraphrasing Don McClean here, "the three things I admire most, the father, son, and the Holy Ghost, well they caught the last train for the coast" . . . because the seventies were all about sex, drugs, and rock and fucking roll! Blam! I said it!

It was a great time to be alive. Everybody’s stuff was getting done, man! There were no condoms, no discretion, and "aids" was just a delicious, chocolate covered, dietary supplement!

And don’t get me started on the drugs! There was something called a Quaalude, and . . . that . . . is all I can really remember.

And as for music, rock and roll was king. Bands such as Led Zeppelin, The Who, The Rolling Stones (who were all still in their early fifties at the time) were cranking out great music, like nobody’s business, and still doing it today! Except for the dead ones, these guys show no signs of Alzheimer’s and still have all of their hair. Long live rock!

There were southern rock bands like Lynard Skynard (pronounced lynard skynard) and The Allman Brothers Band. And don’t forget the Eagles! Okay, upon further review, you can for get the Eagles. Rock came at us from all directions, not just southerly. There were bands like Rush, and Frank Marino and Mahogany Rush (apparently Frank Marino really loved furniture). The punk rock phenomenon began, and much like a Quaalude, that’s all I can remember there. I do actually remember the time I went to see the Ramones. They were in Dallas and they were consciously aware that they were in Dallas. It was great!

Unfortunately for me, Jack Daniels proved to be a more than worthy adversary that night. I was the kling klang king of the rim ram room, I don’t mind telling you. But one thing for certain, and don’t you be mistaken for one moment, as I lay there on the floor in the men’s room at the Ramones concert, face down in my own disgust, and self loathing, my pants, my Levi’s’ 501 bell bottom jeans, were pulled all the way up to the top of my ass, the way pants should be worn. Who's with me? Ca'mon!

Michael Jackson's Driller

Back in the eighties, two things were popular, Michael Jackson and the prospect of drilling for oil in the United States. America at the time, did not realize there was no need for either. Back then the area best suited to destroy was an unwanted region in Alaska. After several rounds of "Pin the Tail on the Eskimo", all discussions came to a halt when no one could say for certain which region in Alaska was wanted.
Since then, not much has changed. Michael Jackson continues to molest children and we as a nation still want to put huge holes in our landscape. One thing has changed however, with the continued rising prices, a gallon of gas is now called "Jesus Juice".
Now in the 2000's, the term "off shore drilling" is being tossed about like pizza dough at Pappa John's!. As if to imply that ripping up our nation will go undetected if . . . it's off in the distance. And furthermore, the idea that this will somehow solve the gas price crunch that we face today, is as likely as a black man becoming president.
What can we do as a nation to solve the seemingly unyielding rise of the price of fuel? Use less of it. Next question. It's Ockham's razor. Sometimes the simplest solution is the solution. Americans, however, hate simple solutions. We like to complicate things. Take the Civil War for example, slavery was wrong and eventually everybody recognized that fact. By American standards, "eventually" meant the loss of hundreds of thousands of lives, but hey, that's how we roll.
I like that we get our oil from the middle east, it gives that region a sense of purpose to me. Let's face it, if it wasn't for the oil, we could just rope the area off and use it for nuclear weapons testing. I'd like to add that if they don't stop fucking about down there, maybe that option should be on the table.
If you were to describe me as some one who loves America and hates the middle east. you would be right. I cannot embrace that culture. It's something about strapping a bomb to your ass and blowing up innocent women and children that, I don't know, just sort of puts me off. Once during a heated discussion with a Muslim, he brought up the point that not all Muslims are religious extremists. He said,"I didn't have anything to do with 911." I replied, "I didn't have anything to with slavery, but I still have to hear about it in line at the check cashing place". Welcome to the party, pal!
I'm completely against drilling for oil in America. To those who are in favor of un-ambering our waves of grain while simultaneously unfruiting our fruited plains, I offer this, the bicycle. Get on a bicycle and ride around any neighborhood in your town. As you cruise along you'll notice the crack dealers, the whores, the street gangs and the homeless. And, if you're like me, you'll ask, "Why would anyone want to fuck this up?"

Mid Year Round Up

Well, 2008 is past it's half life and on the home stretch heading toward where ever old years go to die. My guess is Martin Short's house or his comedic negative, Martin Lawrence.

It's been an interesting year so far, to say the least. The Mars rover discovered ice in the polar region of the planet. The fascinating part of the story is that it was a package of Dentyne Ice. Well worth the 360 trillion dollars it took away from feeding the poor or un-AIDS-ing the AIDS ridden.

Our planet seems a little sick of our shit this year. In a matter of days, we went from cyclones to earthquakes. The cyclone in Myranmar killed almost a hundred thousand people. A lot of which might have been spared if they hadn't have been outside arguing. Cyclone my Burhmese ass! That's a Texas tornado!
The earth certainly quaked in China this year that's for sure! A hundred thousand more were affected by that tragedy. One hundred thousand Chinese people, that's literally one city block's worth of carnage!

This year it seems that show hosts from the news networks have decided to go on the road. For reasons beyond my comprehension, I saw that Bill O'Reilly is is taking his "one man" show all across the country. Ticket scalpers probably don't have a lot of nightmares, but this has to be a recurring one. Second only to the one where you chased around by members of the group Pearl Jam. Glen Beck is also taking his act on the road. Hannah Montana and the Jonas Brothers open, and then Glen comes out and closes the show. Surprisingly, the two hour discussion entitled, "What the Fuck Do you Call That Shit" just flies by. If you get a chance check it out.

Barack Obama.

As it turns out, weddings are for fags. I've been saying that for years, but now it's legal. Yes, gays and lesbians can now be joined in holy matrimony. Finally, wedding planners can plan their own weddings. And, I'm pretty sure they have lots of cool ideas left. I can't imagine what a gay man's bachelor party would be like. I guess when the cop shows up to strip, it's the guy from the Village People. I once went to a lesbian wedding. Sadly I was nowhere near being the best man. An alarming number of those dykes do it a lot better that I ever could!

Saving the world, one fad at a time. Everybody's going green this year. Who knew changing a few light bulbs and disconnecting your phone charger could save an entire planet! It occurs to me that corn powered vehicles could have saved the planet Krypton from extinction. It probably occurred to Clark Kent when he landed in middle of George and Martha Kent's cornfield. Superman's first word's on Earth might have been, "Hee fuckin' haw!"

Barack Obama. Sorry about that. It's a reflex.

Starbucks announced the closing of nearly 600 hundred stores in the U.S. this year. You know what that means, if you want Starbucks coffee now, you're going to have to go all the way across the street. On a similar note, Dunkin' Doughnuts has it's line of coffee on the market. I don't know if I should disclose the secret ingredient . . . oh, what the hell . . . it's crystal meth!

The housing industry is in the crapper. Both Freddie Mac and Fannie Mae are bailing out on loans and screwing everybody. On the bright side, one guy is making it through all this loan foreclosure bullshit just fine. I didn't realize that black people knew so much about finance. Well, run and tell dat to Mr. T. Rowe Price! He's black, right?

Like the rest of you, I'm looking forward to the Olympics. The opportunity for our young men and women to go over to a foreign country and kick some ass! Wait a minute . . . isn't that how the Iraq conflict started? Oh Christ, the rest of 2008 is going to suck.