Wednesday, May 21, 2008

So, this is a blog.

"hey butch u and i r from the same town and know some of the same people well dude i wish that i could be at a show of urs but i am goin to iraq soon but i will try and make it to one later dude "

I truly believe that the internet has done more to lead to the decline of modern civilization and the death of the great thinker. The preceding is a message I read off of another Myspace page. It terrifies me that people use things like "r" instead of "are", "u" instead of "you", etc.

I truly believed that as the internet grew, it would help us to become smarter, to experience new things, hear new music (well, it has done that!), etc. As we reached out to communicate with like minded people, it would create a global "neighborhood". Instead, our kids are lazier, less motivated, and illiterate.

The other day, on the sales floor, as I Wanna Rock by Twisted Sister played, A kid that's about 22 years old stood up and asked loudly, "Who is this?"
I could only shake my head.
In the late 80's, a series of movies entitled "The Decline of Western Civilization" were released. They should have focused on the internet. I just can't understand why, growing up in the 70's and 80's, I was so knowledgeable about music from past generatoins, but nowadays, kids have no clue. Perhaps because it was actually music.

The afore-mentioned kid at work was angry that we never hear his music. Until one day, we relented; His choice is techno-house-club music. Pointless, talentless noise, all programmed on a computer, instead of played on instruments. And no, a computer is not a modern day musical instrument. It can play, record, and modify music, but not create it. It can't equal years of intensive training, learning to hit that note, or stretching a finger to play that cord. Developing the timing it takes to play all those drums and not hit a rim, accidentally. What the internet has done is created a world of illiteracy and pedophilia.

It's the most powerful tool there is to mentally jerk yourself off. Men don't even have to leave the house to cheat on their wives. You can be 38 and claim to be 25. Women are never fat or unattractive. Every guy is a star, or rich, or a great lover.


So, who am I?? I've wondered that myself, for as long as I can remember. For a long time, I just wanted to be like somebody else; Someone that didn't get beat on in High School. Someone that had friends. Someone that girls were attracted to. Someone that was good looking. Someone that was talented, or funny. Someone whose parents had stayed together. Or had not given me up for adoption to a family that was I never felt a part of.

I think I've dabbled in everything, musically, career-wise, locations, and I can truly say that I've fucked it all up. I've been popular, but lost that. I was attractive, but let myself go. I played in bands, even with people that had "made-it" (Tommy Kiefler of Krokus, for one), and walked away. I've worked all over the country, in many different fields, and have nothing to show for it, except the love of a beautiful, and equally maligned woman, swell, ok, that's gone too, but that one was all on her. That's gonna be a different blog post.

Anyhow, where was I? Oh yeah, and two perfect creatures for daughters. Every other thing in my life is gone. Where I want to be living, things I've owned, collected, all gone. Treasured items, like Ozzy's personally autographed picture from Ozzfest 2003. A signed Slayer picture disk. My books. Every photo I ever took. My awesome job working for Clear Channel and seeing every concert for free, with FULL ACCESS!. And as much as I miss those things and pray I can get them back, I forget all about them when I hold Veruka, or Alice.

The world is spinning out of control, and out of my reach, but I don't even care. There's not much more I can do about it, except ride it out and see where it ends up, picking up as many pieces as I can as the road winds by.

Speaking of families, we came to Illinois to be around family that wasn't as dysfunctional as mine, and I found that Bridget's is equally fucked up, but in other ways.

Her Father scares me the most. A man of apparent talent, who can only talk about his band that broke up 25 years ago, like they were the Rolling Stones, not some local Peoria-based group that attracted a second's glance, and then were quickly overlooked. (Quiz #1: Name me 10 people from outside of this area that ever heard of The Jets). Who claims a great comedian stole his ideas, and who single handedly took an emotionally frail, young woman and turned her into his fantasy, live-in playmate of the month, slut, to be paraded in front of countless computer monitors, leading her to believe it's innocent Girl Next Door-like. A woman who has to ask him what her favorite color is. Wait, I mean, their favorite color, as he picks out her clothes for her. And he's so caught up in his neo-fantasy of younger women, that somehow, she stopped aging 13 years ago.
I'm intrigued to meet this guy, and yet afraid that I'll kill him at the same time, because my daughter shares his DNA. This man actually sees himself as being John Lennon-esque. Well, as far as being a dead-beat dad, I suppose he is.

So, this is life in my 40's. Trying to lose weight that won't come off, regrow my gorgeous hair, keeping my family together, and wondering if I'll ever grow up.
Maybe this is the beginning of my mid-life crisis. Who knows??

3 comments:

Ramble On said...

Great start! I will tell you about my theory of "emotional splinters", maybe I will blog it. Thanks for the glimpse!

Kevin Lowe said...

Very interesting and insightful. Great first post. Hope to read more soon.

Anonymous said...

So much of your "story" makes perfect sense all of a sudden.