August 28, 2008

one of these things is not like the other

I got into this discussion with this woman (which turned into a debate, which because we were both drinking turned into an argument) about politics the other night at a party. It all got started by her saying that she didn’t like Obama because he lied so much. I immediately pressed her for specifics and of course she had none. Then she pulled the “raised Muslim” card. (I thought we were done with this argument by now, but apparently not.) Anyway, the whole argument went this way. She’d say something dumb and unsubstantiated and I get more upset and personal each time because I was sick of hearing the absurdities. It all ended peacefully with her literally begging for me to sit back down... she must’ve liked the abuse or the education. I’d hope for the latter but I wouldn’t count on it.

The irony of it all is that I was arguing the liberal (near socialist) perspective. I’m a small business owner, my wife works in the private sector and in one week my daughter will be going to a private school. This woman worked for the USPS, her husband is a cop and all three of her kids go to public school. I find it remarkable that she gets everything — and I mean EVERYTHING — from the government but would probably gaffe at the idea that she is a socialist. It’s also no wonder that she thinks life in this country at this time is just peachy. I’m sure she has great health care and a pretty steady and higher than average paycheck.

I hear that there was a time in this country when the working class voted for those who would genuinely help them, not give them promises to make them rich. I really hope we return to this. I’m really looking forward to Obama’s speech tonight.

posted @ 6:37 AM

August 21, 2008

the good times are killing us

I didn’t get my driver’s license until I was 18 years old. I took driver’s ed when I was 14, like everyone else in Montana, but then I moved to Spokane before I was able to pass my test. I lived within walking distance of my junior high and high school. In fact, I lived within walking distance of all of my friends and most shopping places. The one’s that were farther out required a bus ride, but that was cheap and easy. For about a year I rode my bicycle (until it was stolen — in front of the library of all places!). For shows and things like that we all pilled into one of our friend’s cars. I never really rode in a car with less than four people in it and we usually were going somewhere that we couldn’t all walk.

We weren’t being “green” or “eco” in any way. We were being unemployed punk rockers who refused to give up certain freedoms for convenience. (Many thanks to my mom who gave me the necessary allowance to live what I now see as a very luxurious lifestyle.) I enjoyed walking to my fiend’s houses and the bus was okay... had it’s certain quirky people onboard, but with my spiky blue hair and leather jacket I wasn’t the exception to this rule by any means. I can’t think of one single instance where I missed something because of a lack of transportation. Plus I had no car payments, no insurance, no fuel costs and no vehicular headaches. I believe it was good training for what seems inevitable.

We watched the movie, ‘End of Suburbia‘, last night. It was amazing and scary all at once. The biggest thing I learned was about peak oil. It’s a term I’ve heard but never understood. The world has reached it’s peak capacity... which means we will never, ever be able to produce more than we are [now?]. So we are on the downhill slide. We aren’t out or even really running out of oil, which is what I had thought. It’s like a Bell curve and we are at the top (or slightly downhill side) of the curve.

The movie was made in 2004 and the gas prices they showed were in the $2.00 range, so I believe that we actually peaked around that time. It was as cheap and abundant as it ever will be. At one point they did the “hypothetical” price spinning from $2 something up to $5.08 a gallon. I’m sure I would have thought in 2004, “yeah right! There would be riots!” And some of the commentators said this as well. It’s like the frogs in slowly rising water temperatures though... We don’t seem to be terribly alarmed. Everyone seems to just be putting up with it. I think the next ten years will be very interesting.

We are planning to ride our bicycles to Spokane next summer. I want to do it for “fun” but it may just be a necessity by then.

posted @ 7:19 AM

August 17, 2008

the punk rock

One day I was to find out that patches on your clothing were to represent the “crust core” punks. If you liked stuff on Lookout Records then you really weren’t supposed to put patches on your clothes. Likewise, if you were a fan of the fast and heavy guitar with screaming lyrics of the Slug & Lettuce variety then you weren’t to wear much plaid or anything in the way of color (red being the obvious exception to the ‘no color’ rule). Leather was out if you sided with the crust/peace/noise/hard-core bands of the Profane Existence crowd. Political and social activism was held with little regard when it came to the pop punk folks. One side said you were too emo and not hardcore enough if you didn’t tattoo an anarchy sign on yourself, the other side said you were too serious and real fucking bummer to hang out with if you did.

Suddenly I was a misfit among misfits. Socially awkward and a thousand miles away from friends in the scene I slowly dropped the punk motif. I was living on a military base and blending in there seemed more important than trying to uphold some idealism of the punk rock variety. Sure the government was corrupted — it’s goals in total opposition to my beliefs, which sucked... but so did getting my ass kicked for displaying my disdain.

I was okay with all of this though. I didn’t fit on either (any?) side of the punk rock “supposed to” battle line. I wasn’t supposed to dress like a crust punk cuz I mostly liked pop punk. I wasn’t supposed to believe in class war and social change because I bought Mr. T Experience CDs. (I KNOW! CDs OF ALL THINGS! SELLOUT!!) I was a poseur to both scenes. And with ‘alternative’ music still very popular their was little room with the cool kids for anyone who seemed to be faking it.

Maybe I really was faking it all along. It feels that way until I go to a show with a bunch of really great friends from “back in the day” (for me this is summer of 1995). I realize that I may not know any of the bands anyone is talking about post ‘96, but it doesn’t matter. I can (pretty much) still be friends. I still have a minor degree of street cred even if I haven’t waived any real punk flags in over 10 years. That’s kinda nice. And now I’m old enough to know that it matters not in the very least what style of clothes one is wearing to determine how “hardcore” one is. In fact, odds are good that the movers and shakers of the scene are the guys and gals who look the most normal.

posted @ 7:14 AM