May as Well Stand Firm On...Whatever

Back in my beginner rock-n-roll days, the church upped their guilt venture on teenage music, urging us to toss away the devil's words and snuggle up to Jesus. I put all my 8-tracks (hahaha!) in a shoe box, or two, and stowed them under my bed and strove to walk the straight and narrow. Come on, now, I couldn't throw out all my Columbia House 12-for-one-cent tapes, that would be madness! Anyway, after a few weeks, the lure of AC/DC and Molly Hatchet became too strong and the music was once again assaulting my mother's ears as she did her ironing in my bedroom of a Saturday morn.

I think preacher-man could have done a lot more damage if he would have just told us that our rock gods were mortal and the words to those songs, that I used to parse like CIA trying to crack a secret code, have no deep meaning. These days, Ozzy wants a colonoscopy, Eddie Van Halen needs hip surgery, and poor ol' Ted has tipped his rocker. I even heard Steven Tyler admit that it didn't matter if the words made sense, as long as they sound good together.

We have a local classic rock station, and at first that seemed cool. A song would come on and remind me of the good old times. Now the songs have been overplayed and have rubbed out the old memory, replaced by the memory of just driving down the road listening to a song, instead of, let's say, hearing Baker Street or Blinded By the Light while you were swimming at the Country Club and laying in the sun, and the cute boy you liked was being rowdy with his friends. And, seriously, we hardly listened to Pink Floyd except now and then, on special occasions. That stuff was too depressing and trippy.

I was looking up something on Hank Williams the other day (I think Hank was was rock-n-rolly, so I'm not off topic), and read on the Roadside America website that when you go to his museum, you better not mention Elvis, or you'll get plowed. You will be informed that Williams' success in his few years expanded way beyond what Elvis achieved in a life that was twice as long.

Which just goes to show that there's always a side to take. Here we go on the circuitous path of my mind.

Around here, if you respect the president, are a democrat, or are offended by racial slurs, you learn to keep it to yourself unless you enjoy being screamed at and possibly purged from the community.

I see that it's just the opposite in the liberal areas. Remember Kirk Cameron, up there in Californ-I-A, recently getting blasted for saying his piece about gay folk? It was just as bad a tar-and-feathering as if someone had walked into our local Dairy Queen and declared Jimmy Carter was the best president we've ever had. Man-oh-man, you better have some thick skin if your opinion goes against the grain of the local norm.

It makes me wonder, does the side you take really matter? Whatever side you're on feels just as strongly as the other about their own issues.What is it that makes people with differing opinions want to rip the others' throat out? A good debate is understandable, but why is a blood-letting, petty undermining and character assassination so close at hand? Do we just need a good rain?

ANYWAY, so whether you like the kids' music or not, let them have it. One day Nicki Minaj will go through menopause and Maroon 5 will be collecting Social Security. Ha-ha! Yes, now that will still be around.