The day was lost the moment the Monkey King’s army attacked New Bastion City. The human forces were no match for the aggressive unrelenting monkey onslaught. Peter Tork was unstoppable. Davey Jones was a killing machine. Mike Nesmith put the heads of his enemies on spikes and paraded them through the city square. Mickey Dolenz was a power god of manslaughter. Plus there were like, some other monkeys, like, doing stuff… Egad, what a terrible way to start a Friday story. Monkey murderers? That’s just awful. I’m sure there are far more interesting things to write about on this wonderful Friday, for at least some of the nation. (Wildfires, torrential rain areas, flood plains excluded.)
I would say a Friday story about man’s inability to stop the Planet of the Apes from happening is a bit trite. There’s got to be something better to write about today. Let’s see what’s in the news… Oh god, let’s not. Damn. The news is terrible out there. My God, why don’t we all just stay in our homes and hide under our beds!
That would be silly of course. We have no choice but to go on, if only we could go on in a bit more civilized manner. Would the gang problems be abated by bringing back the Gentleman’s Duel at dawn? I can only wonder. I mean, it wouldn’t happen and both guys would live since gang members can’t aim for shit. They seem to shoot everything and everyone but their intended target. God, get some weapons training if you want to be a shooter. No one just picks up a gun and is Annie Oakley. And if you don’t know who Annie Oakley is then go back to school and study history and then you really won’t need a gun because you’ll be better educated and can resolve issues without resorting to murder.
Perhaps I’m being optimistic about it.
There were a bunch of teenagers on my train this morning all headed into the big city for a little summertime fun. The young men looked unkempt and were proud of it. Although when I was their age I certainly wasn’t much better. I refused to dress like those corporate squares. Then I started dressing like those corporate squares on complete purpose because the whole punk/Skater/grunge thing was played out. The young women were dressed inappropriately for my judgment of their age. One young lady was wearing a pair of shorts that I’m not sure could be legally defined as “shorts” and they left nothing to the imagination. I could only roll my eyes and think, “This is what we’ve done to these girls. Damn you magazines, movies, pop culture, TV, snake oil salesmen, Sarah Silverman!”
I could not hear their conversations, thankfully. I do know that one of the young girls left her sunglasses at home and it was the worst tragedy to ever occur since Richard the III. That and they all really wanted Jamba Juice. Which I suppose is understandable since I really wanted a cup of coffee. The boys however, were very silent. It was easy to see that their pubescent minds were completely baffled by the amount of young woman skin in front of them. They were mostly speechless, brushing their way too long in front hair off their faces. I mean I had really silly hair as a young man. Who didn’t? But I wore a hat almost all the time, with my hair pretty well concealed. These young men wear hats, with their hair sticking out all over the place. I mean, why wear a hat? Damn kids and their youthful vigor and vim.
I suppose I’m only jealous of their opportunity. They have their whole lives ahead of them and mistakes to make and new experiences to have. I’m getting to a point where I’m at the bar talking about gray ear hairs and quality nose hair clippers. So I’m sure there’s a jealous tone to my “young people today” rant. Plus, I have to say, I don’t remember teenage girls dressing so provocatively (although they may have, I just don’t remember because raging hormones seem to cloud good judgment and memory), so yeah, I’m a little jealous of those young men and their early fumbling attempts to be impressive. Wasn’t that the fun part of being young? Trying to win the affections of a young lady (or whoever was the object of your obsession) was the best part of your day. Maybe that was just me. I thought if she only looked at me, or smiled, or said hello, or accidentally walked past me in a crowd, was a great day. It was even better if they liked you too and you got to have all those great new experiences together, the new heart swells and lows and aggravations and highs and laughs and cries. It was so wonderful that I would love to try it out again.
But we can’t go back. We have had our experiences and have to sit back as patient observers of the young and look forward to the new experiences that might come with aging. I know I have to have a doctor stick his or her finger up my butt soon, so that’s something to look forward too. New experiences. New horizons. PPO’S, HMO’S, IRA’s, 401K’s, taxes, bills, bills, bills, Bill, death, life, choices, money, work, family, death, birth, death, death, taxes, painting, planting, gardening, shopping, new pants sizes, old boxes full of pictures of your teenage self, all the things that the kids don’t have to deal with yet we, as the rapidly aging Generation X, have to do. It’s monkey business.