They may be stupid rock, moron rock or even mimic wannabe-punk fucking dumb ass rock, but not good old’ punk rock
Yesterday my husband and I went to Sports Chalet. We were looking for birthday and Christmas presents for our kids; stuff like shirts, pants and boxing equipment was on our list. Our youngest needed a rolling backpack. The books he carries are killer heavy. With all the fucking back problems I have now, making it easy for him makes me a good mom with foresight. Goddess knows I have too much foresight and often I keep it to myself. Occasionally it is a good to help others with this gift but too often they don’t want to hear it, as in the other day.
While we were looking through the rolling backpacks we noticed one that had a warning sign on it.
“The material used in this particular backpack are known to cause cancer.”
Though this particular roller backpack was cool, we put it aside and found another. As we were checking out from Sports Chalet, which was a relief for me ‘cause the music on the PA and my thoroughly shopping husband were both about to push me over the edge, I noticed a man and his son buying the warning cancer roller backpack,
“Well should I tell them, do you think they looked at the tag?”
“Don’t waste your time.”
I felt that foresight thing come up into my heart. I just had to say something to this man.
“Sir did you know that product has a warning tag on it?”
He looked at me as though if he had a gun he would have killed me.
“I am quite aware of this and I think we will be OK, we have a bigger chance of getting cancer from the air we breathe.”
“But the material is what causes cancer?”
“We have a better chance of dying at the next Holocaust then dying from this product!”
“Let’s hope so!”
He seemed very agitated that I even spoke to him, but his child listened and I feel maybe I might have got through to him.
“What a jerk, you were right John! Why the hell did I waste my time.”
I was feeling hurt and angry. I guess my husband’s foresight is better than mine in some cases.
This experience was as painful as the other night at our local pub. It was punk rock night. We strolled in to get a couple of brews, listen to music and see some friends. I sat through three bands. I turned my back to them, I threw coasters at them. When they asked for a beer I said,
“I’ll pee in a cup for you!”
I guess he heard me because he responded with,
“Well at least that is recycled beer.”
This was the only thing all three bands said that night that was worth life itself for them. Yes, I hated their music and what they stood for that much. I love punk but when you have youngsters saying “Darby Crash” and “Minor Threat” in a few minutes and then hear,
“All women are bitches, whores, cows…”
“You realize that they are not punk rock. This in not even funny,
” It is sick!” I affirmed loudly to the air!
They may be stupid rock, moron rock or even mimic wannabe-punk fucking dumb ass rock, but not good old’ punk rock. All three bands came together and the crowd in the pub were their lost in space friends only. This time I was not nice. I threw my delicious Newcastle bottle at them and hit one of the band members drums. Then I stood up and gave the finger. I looked over at our friendly toxicologists and he was putting two hands up in the air. Out of respect for him we left.
In conclusion being nice can turn out to be the wrong thing to do, especially when what you do… doesn’t mean a thing.
Throwing a bottle may be the wrong thing to do but if it means everything… for Goddess’s sake throw it…!!!!!!! It is the right thing to do.