Saturday, July 24, 2010

Assume This.

Not being anti-social by any means, my gregarious nature and my vanished youth have led me to the conclusion that I don't want to be surrounded by time-sucking freaks. Day to day social interaction, however, makes these situations unavoidable sometimes and I find that many people I encounter are presumptuous enough to make all kinds of assumptions.

It is tacitly implied that most people will make instant judgments based on looks, but looks can be deceiving. A greasy rockabilly demeanor seems to perplex most folks, particularly squares. They will automatically assume that your average greaser is devoid of any intellect, may have questionable hygiene and is possibly violent.

Other than ignoring these sweeping generalizations, there isn't much I can do about that. I do derive a certain perverse pleasure at how easy it is to confuse these squares and how it all throws their limited linear existences into complete turmoil.

The assumptions that I am referring to are more along the lines of people assuming that  I give a shit. I will elaborate.

1. Tunes.

A greasy friend of mine recently gave me a bumper sticker that says. "It's not that I'm old, your music really does suck." Couldn't have said that better.

It just doesn't seem to register for most people that when they a dude sporting a big greasy pomp it generally means that he likes rockabilly.

What would make someone assume that I would come close to even acknowledging their pedestrian tastes in music?  I don't give rat's ass about their unnatural obsession with rap.

I also find it equally annoying when some people assume that I like punk. I come from a country background, rockabilly's big brother, and I am running out of rats' asses to give trying to explain that . I do not derive any satisfaction from listening to badly played instruments and reminiscing about the days when I was a cretin.

One of my perennial favorites is Dwight Yoakam. Strangely enough, not a whole lot of my greasy friends seem to be Dwight fans, but a lot of the gals are. They go on about his leather pants as I stare in disbelief and wonder to myself why they think I would give a shit about some dude's leather pants ?

Garnering the respect of the man in black himself, Johnny Cash, Dwight has proven to be one the most important songwriters in the late 20 th century, yet I keep hearing about those damned leather pants. Setting aside for a minute how uncomfortable that makes me, I resent that assumption.

2.Get offa me!

What is it about middle-aged drunken bar-hugger chicks that makes them wanna dance all the time? And by dancing I mean that rhythm-less, lurching flailing about that they do whenever the band starts playing. Even more amusing is when the decide in their boozy haze that they are able to jive dance just by looking at somebody else do it, it's a guaranteed fact that someone is gonna end up on their ass.

Their natural habitat seems to be blues bars, yet many of them find their way to rockabilly nights for some reason. At a blues bar, they will always find some willing dancing fool who hasn't enough sense to know he's embarrassing himself. It's a terrible sight and usually distracts me from enjoying the band.

OK, crazy lady, now what would make you assume that I wanna dance with you? They will slur some unintelligible nonsense as they yank on your arm. I always tell them that I don't need to dance, cuz hell, I sing and play guitar, but that falls on deaf ears. In their drunken stupor, they just can't process anything that makes sense, they just  "wanna daaa-aance". These annoying encounters invariably end with the deranged barfly trying to touch my greasy hair.

I can almost hear the whole room collectively groan, as this the rockabilly equivalent of a kick in the balls.

Sit down, shut yer mouth, watch the band..

3.The Game.

Did you watch the game last night? What game? The International Bolivian Donkey Racing Competition? What Game?

Dudes always assume that because I am also a dude that I like or even remotely give a shit about organized sports. I don't. " But we won!" "No, they won, you just watched."

I can't think of a more monumental waste of time than watching a bunch of spoiled millionaires playing sports on TV. It's a huge sucker deal and all the teams are just creating brand loyalty, like any other slick marketing campaign. Nobody even seems to question the fact that a tepid beer in a plastic cup cost 9 bucks when you go see a game in person.

Trust me, your favorite sports hero doesn't give a shit about you.You're favorite hockey player would just as soon punch you in the mouth than talk to you.

I would rather do something more constructive during the evenings. Even if I'm just sitting on the porch having some beers , staring blankly and drinking myself into hazy oblivion, I feel that is time better spent. The only thing that I am assuming at this point, is that there are a couple of beers left in the fridge.

4.Conspiracy Theories.

These whack-jobs can't revel in their lunacy quietly. They assume that everybody wants to hear their inane ravings. Lacking even the most rudimentary scientific knowledge, these freako-s seem to have a take on everything. With the fervor of some cult member trying to convert you , they will go on and on, each proclamation more ludicrous than the last.

This also includes all these new-agey crystal rubber types, who are more than happy to believe every half baked, marijuana induced theory out there. Shit makes sense when you are able make it up as you along.

They love spending money on useless contraptions, ersatz organic herbs, books written by charlatans and sandalwood incense. The irony of driving their fossil fuel burning cars to get these items is lost on them.

These annoying froot-loops are always ready to blather on about nexus points or shadow governments, yet are unable to shut up long enough to hear any logical refutation of their nonsense.

Contrails and chemtrails seem to be another favorite of theirs, yet they are unable to understand even the most basic science of what makes an airplane fly.

They seem to have a morbid fear of "The Man" . Who is this large man, and why is he so scary?

They fail to understand the most basic tenet of all; it's not that everybody's out to get you, it's that everybody's out to get your cash.

5.Dumb Celebrities.

Where to begin? This is a vast territory to explore and again , people seem to think I care. What is it about the greasy demeanor, with the hair and the cars and the love of cool music would cause these deluded fools to think for one second that a bunch of greasers  watched America's Got Talent last night?

Some folks let this nonsense almost take over their lives. It is hard to tell the difference between news and info-tainment these days. They assume that I care about the hedonistic antics of some "celebrity" . These "celebrities" that have no discernible talent other than the fact of being a " celebrity"

Celebrity worship is nothing new, hell Frank Sinatra had all them bobby-soxer groupies. And Elvis, well that boy took the nation by storm, and man, could he sing. How many of these Hollywood fuckheads could claim that they single-handedly changed the face of rock'n'roll ? (OK, maybe not sigle-handedly, but that's a whole other post).

They also don't give a shit about you and a lot of them seem to be borderline insane. Listen up: Nobody's got talent, those chopper goofs don't actually chop anything, anybody could take out Bjork or Courtney Love with one punch, those idiots on the island couldn't survive a shit in the woods, Trump is a fuckin' idiot with a bad haircut, Gene Simmons hates you and don't play guitar so good, reality shows are scripted and everything is photo-shopped.

Like a good friend once said to some mullet sporting goof who confronted him and asked , " Why don't you play anything I know?. "Why don't you know anything I play?" he responded. End of conversation.

Tonight there will be barbecuing of large slabs of meat, copious quantities of beer, greasy buddies and greasier cars. If some squares or freaks want to harass me, they may assume one thing for certain: we don't give a damn. Adios.

No comments:

Post a Comment