Saturday, July 9, 2011
The Rockabilly Way
Some sort of paradigm shift seems to have occurred in our society over the last few years or so. Men have lost their way. Judging by the amount of man-purse toting manicured fops that I see scurrying to the nearest wine bar after work, I am convinced that there is something askew. Somebody must be making a fortune selling those really long squashed shoes and really skinny suits.
Worse yet, many young males have chosen the path of hipsterism. This inexplicable and unfortunate choice seems to be proliferating rather than waning. With all it's ironic overtones and veiled references to male archetypes the end result is surprisingly effeminate. The skinny jeans, dress shoes without socks, dumb haircuts, ironic mustaches and over sized dumb glasses must be impeding the flow of testosterone. This is directly manifested by the lack of swagger and constant whining. Oh yes, my friends, I do feel an uncontrollable urge to punch these wankers right in the face and bust all the spokes on their fixed gear bicycles with the pink wheels. I cannot think of a worst affront to greasy sensibilities.
At the opposite end of the spectrum are the gangsta wannabe louts sporting lots of cheap gold chains and glorifying violence. Indeed, their neanderthal sensibilities know nothing but violence. Their monosyllabic conversations interspersed with cursing and lots of idle spitting are frightening to listen to as they regale each other with tales of their fighting prowess. They adulate ultimate fighting performers and revel in the violence. They too have lost their way, completely oblivious to the values that once meant something.
One can choose to live any way they desire, misguided as it may be. I have made my choice long ago regarding the way; I choose the Rockabilly way.
1. Add Metal 'Til It Works.
Most greasers like to build things and work with their hands. It's an innate desire for self-expression. Most greasers don't have a hundred grand kicking around to buy a hot rod, so they just make do with what they have. Some projects may turn out a little wonky, so the only solution for most self respecting greasers is to whip out the welder and keep welding bits of metal onto the the errant part that seems to have been crooked from the start until it holds. Weight and rust are not considerations and when in doubt, just spray paint the sucker flat black. Some really clever dudes will have access to big cans of Bondo: problem solved.
Another reason that shit ends up crooked or looks like is was engineered by a monkey is other greasers. We just love hanging around shops and garages when our buddies are working on something. Greasers, shops and beers go hand in hand. This is a fun but volatile combination and shit is bound to go south sooner or later. Nothing that half a dozen hammered greasers can't fix though. Out comes the chop saw, grinder and welder and eventually the problem will be fixed.
Once that recalcitrant piece of metal, motor mount or floor panel has been cheesed into place, the satisfied greasers will keep drinking. The will bask in the congratulatory atmosphere while sniffing Bondo and 5 dollar spray bomb fumes. If nobody lost an eye or a digit, it was a good day.
2. Greasers Don't Camp.
At one point or another, someone usually will try to buffalo the greaser to go camping. This seems unsavory and is goes against the greaser's natural aversion to shitting in the woods. By someone, I meant some gal. Greasers never feel the need to initiate a suggestion to go camping. The reason it may happen is the possibility of eventual poon-tang, but often, the greaser's powerful disdain of sleeping inside a sealed piece of canvas prevails. The only thing that may possibly override this is the promise of copious quantities of free beer and being in charge of a really large bonfire and maybe some shotguns with lots of ammo.
3. Man Time.
Greasers are finely attuned to the fact that dudes need man-time. Greasy gals seem to understand that, and willingly oblige. Even if he's single, he needs that man-time. Some time spent alone in a greasy enclave far from the daily irritants such as noise, dirty hippies and just plain fucking idiots.
Man time is usually spent in a man cave. This can be a room, a garage or even some old shack in the back yard. There will be hours spent in solitude wailing on a guitar and singing at the top of his lungs. There will be howling at the moon. There will be much whiskey drinking, nose picking and scratching of the bag. The farts will fly fast and furious and guitar strings will break. After a trip to the beer store to re-stock, the stereo will be cranked and he will be overcome with an instinctive desire to bang on shit really hard with a hammer. If his eye sight is still intact, this would probably be a good time to get out the ole .22 and shoot some cans or some squirrels (or both). He will wake up still wearing his pants amidst the detritus of empty beer cans, cigarette butts, busted guitar strings and a new hat made of squirrel hide. A good night indeed and the cops didn't even show up.
4. What. Me Worry?
The concerns of the greaser are simple. Make sure the hair is kept intact and everything else will fall into place. So there is grease on his jeans, ain't no big deal. Dirt under the fingernails? He'll take care of that some other times. There is only a few other things to keep straight such as washing t-shirts inside out so the cool picture won't fade. A constant supply of hair grease, big-assed cans of Mennen speed stick and combs keep the greaser going. Lots of meat, bacon and many beers in the fridge are always kept on hand. There is also usually a large bottle of Febreeze on hand to dispel the smell of motor oil, beer farts, wet dog smell and burning electronics.
There may be a transmission or an entire motorcycle in the living room but that seems completely natural. Having plenty of tools on hand is an endless source of satisfaction. Even if they aren't used for a while, it's good to have 600 wrenches on hand should the need to hang a picture or fix a leaky toilet arise.
5. Don't Give A Damn.
The greaser's habits are consistent as well as the places that he might frequent. House parties are popular because he will be with like-minded people, the music will not suck and there usually won't be any assholes around to raise the greaser's ire and desire for face punching. There are many places where you will never find a greaser and it is near impossible to trick him into going. The reason for the the greaser's flat out refussal is one of his mantras; " cuz it sounds like a king sized drag".
You will most definitely never find greasers at poetry slams. This is like karaoke for deranged sociopaths and should a greaser have the misfortune to find himself there, there will be slamming of poets.
Same goes for wine bars, where they pump in the pretension via special air ducts. The icy stares of the ultra douchebags that frequent these establishments is like fightin' words to the greaser.
Folk festivals. Are you tryin' to make angry ? Dirt, dreadlocks and 8000 fucking bongos. Just what you need to get the adrenaline flowing.
Live theater. I can't of anything that would make the skin crawl more than this snoozefest. These hippies-on-steroids regard themselves as Thespians and that alone makes me want to run for the hills.
Bad outdoor concerts in the daytime without booze. These usually attract squares from the burbs who have absolutely no interest in music.
If you're looking for greasers you will find them in their natural habitat; late at night at a Rockabilly show with drink in each hand.
keep on walkin' the walk.