“Can’t you ever depend
On someone you call a friend
When you see their naked eyes
You don’t even ask ’em why.”
“Is a museum the same as an art gallery?”
The youngster with green hair asked?
The old crone sitting in the bar burped, drinking a pint of beer, then explained,
“The simplified difference between an art gallery and a museum is that a museum is a place of entertainment; it’s an activity to visit a museum.”
Then thoroughly engaged she added,
“However, an art gallery is a business that displays and sells goods.”
“I see,” said the youngster!
The old one with love in her heart went on,
“Beware of the term “Punk Museum.” It is an oxymoronic term. It is not an institution devoted to the procurement, care, study, and display of objects of lasting interest or value to punk rock but an exploitative suck job or place of profit. To sell a business name or ideal based on a lie, not one ounce of good intent but greed! Beware of this abomination.”
At that moment the knowing DJ turned a new song. The boy with green hair got to look at the albums cover. He came to understand there was more to punk rock than a place of profit, green hair and selling out to a sheep in wolves clothing. He must be a good punk of high discernment.
The funny DJ with a long face added,
“One can run a business and sell things. One can have a museum for things of value to enjoy. But to say you are a museum that is really masquerading as a place for profit just like an art gallery… damn something is off big time.”
The boy with green hair quickly added (with eyes crossed),
“Sounds like the oily, dishonest local salesman who originally sold Oliver the Green Acres Farm, Mr. Eustace Haney.”
The crone punk rolled her eyes, finished her beer and walked out of the pub… having paid the youngster’s beers.
(without his knowing… a surprise.)
Until Next time…
The Boy with Green Hair (1948)