Skip to main content

Happy Memories # 3,178

When I was a teen, I was heavily into punk rock (and speed). I had spikey hair, often dyed different colors, ripped up jeans, the whole "uniform". We didn't see it as such back then...but it is what it is.

A couple of years ago, I had to go to the mall. Ross Park Mall, to be precise. I hate going to the mall...any mall...for any reason. But, it was the holidays and I had to pick something up for dear ol' dad...so off to the mall I went. Luckily, dad will usually tell me, well in advance, what he wants, so it makes it simpler.

So, I'm at the mall, have found dad's gift, and was in the checkout line waiting to get the hell out of there to go home. Behind me was a kid of about 16, dressed almost identically to how I used to dress in my teens! Same hair, many of the same buttons/pins on his jacket, and wearing the same style jacket I wore! (Mind you, my jacket was originally my dad's from the 50's. It was still cool in the 80s, it fit well, and was multipurpose...so of course I took it!) This kid, one could tell, thought he was the coolest, most rebellious kid around.

The kid was with a man that I can only assume was his dad. A guy around my age...but having that "Yes I look worn out. I've been raising kids for 16-18 years and really want a vacation from life" look about him. His wardrobe looked like it came from Sears. This guy looked like he was completely over it all and could really use some fun in his life. Metzger to the rescue!

As I knew it was gonna be a while waiting in line, I eyeballed the kid...lil Sir Punksalot. Don't get me wrong...I love that kids today still dig the same stuff I did growing up...but it also saddens me that they have nothing of their own to claim or want to claim. So I did what one would expect me to do. I fucked with him. Good-natured of course. I didn't want his dad getting all pissed off and starting a scene. Remember...I was doing this for the dad. He needed some fun. OK...I did it to amuse my self too...and to pass some time.

I eyeballed the kid and started reading the buttons/pins/badges all over his jacket. "Yep...I have that one....and that one...and that one... Funny kid...you look just like I did nearly 30 years ago! Take a good look at your future! Old, fat and tired! Yeppers! That's what ya get to look forward to!"

The kid looked humiliated and a tad pissed off. His dad was doing everything he could not to bust out laughing, publicly, at his son. Taking this cue, on I went!

"So, what ya using to spike that hair up? Elmer's glue? Egg whites? Oh wait...no...your generation, you're probably using some $30 hair product..." At this point, the dad, laughing out loud, chimes in, "Oh yeah! This kid drops at least $75 a month on his hair alone!" Then dad proceeds to tell me that junior searched high & low for pre-ripped jeans. He couldn't believe it. He & talked about how back in our day, we just kept wearing our jeans until they wore out...and then kept on wearing them! Mind you, I'm pretty sure Levi's were cheaper then.

The whole time, this kid looked ready to explode. His dad and I had a good time....partly at his son's expense. His dad even commented that his son really is a good kid...just dresses funny. He & I discussed the need for kids to self-express. The kid looked like he was trying to figure out a way to disappear into the floor. Seeing that junior was into punk rock, I suggested a few albums for him. Even told him some good places to find them. Junior muttered "thanks" and his dad, finally looking like some life had crept back into him, told his son to "speak up" and thank the man properly. The dad & I chuckled. The kid was just mortified.

Sometimes it's fun to be a cranky old bastard.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

An Old Photo

The photo was old and scratched up. It looked like it had been handled and mishandled for years, and it probably had. Passed from hand to hand, tucked into scrapbooks, displayed in frames, stuffed into drawers, and rescued again. It had been looked at thousands of times. It was still his favorite. It wasn't historically important. Just a photograph of friends sitting in someone's back garden, sharing a few laughs and a few cold beers. The image was every bit as grainy as the memories attached to it. The colors had faded with age, drifting toward reds and yellows. Time had left its fingerprints everywhere. He was the only one left in the photograph. When his time came, would anyone remember those old glory days? Those years when importance itself seemed unimportant. When photographs weren't taken to prove anything, advertise anything, or preserve a carefully crafted image. They were taken simply because someone thought a moment was worth keeping. There was no guarantee the p...

New Book! (and what comes next)

 My 1st print book now exists. What a strange way to put it. I've always enjoyed writing, even when I was a kid and it wasn't cool . Honestly, I never thought I'd do anything with it. It was just another outlet for all of the ideas banging around in my head. For decades, a lot of these thoughts became songs. Now I've returned to the simplicity of words. I write because I enjoy telling stories - pretty much the same with songwriting. The only difference is that now I don't have to go on a stage or into a recording studio. There I days I miss both, but who knows...maybe one day I'll do it all again. Writers write for different reasons. Some for acclaim or notoriety. Some for profit. Same as with music, painting, sculpting, acting - I think those goals are a matter of seeking validation. But for what? Doing what you enjoy is validation enough. For years I've written this blog. In some ways, it's the perfect medium for me. I do it, it's done, published, ...

A Very Teddy Tuesday

 I told myself I wouldn't do this. I didn't want to share any part of the new book yet. But - I'm enjoying it too much, and that feels selfish. Lord knows I don't write for any reason other than to share stories, so I edited a few bits down to this little excerpt. You might like it. Might not. Might think WTF?! Might ignore it all together. No matter what you think, or if you even read it at all, I'm enjoying writing it. Those who know me won't be surprised. Yet. - MCM 6/20/26 Mid-afternoon sun spilled through a dirty window, cutting across the living room in long golden beams. Dust drifted lazily through the light. Teddy the cockroach made his way up a dusty work boot. The boot had been there longer than anyone could remember. So had the body beside it. The humans who once occupied the old house were long gone. Their furniture remained. Their toys remained. Their guns remained. Even some of the humans themselves remained, though mostly as bones and geography. T...