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I'm so happy yet I find a little room to be sad.
Last night I had an odd moment in the gym. They are playing 80s music in the gym, mostly dull stuff but with some decent songs mixed in...the way pop radio was in the mid-80s. My hair is utterly out of control, and I have no time to either cut or attend to it. I am in very serious danger of looking like John Basedow
. I'm old enough to know that is a bad thing. Add in the music and I'm flashing back to the Montgomery Village YMCA where I lifted weights. Only, I look like someone else in the mirror. Someone meaty and jock-like.
My fantasy remains, only the number of reasons increases. I still want to do it all over again, I want to live those years, with that body, with what I know today. Usually that's just a financial and physical goal, knowing where the economy was going and where to invest, starting and staying with a fighting form, knowing how to work out and having the discipline to do it while my body was a raging torrent of hormones. Now I think about how I could go to those clubs at those times, pick out the weirdos in the school, live it at the time instead of being into something retro. One of the first things I think about is how easy school would be, and bargaining with my parents "Look I want to appear bizarre, like purple mohawk, and I'm willing to be on the honor role to do that..." The lottery jackpot impossible dream doesn't grant all this - it's just money now to throw at my fading body.
The nastiest thing I thought of was hitting the gay scene and knowing that HIV was coming. I'd probably earn the name kissing bandit knowing how to avoid the virus. I wouldn't be close to anyone, not knowing who would go and knowing that saying a word would just make people think I was crazy. Ugh, if I throw social obligations into the fantasy I'd have no choice but to be a raving lunatic, railing against things people haven't heard of.
Work today is going to be worthless. I just want to get drunk. And maybe dance.
Kangal noted once that a song was 18 years old - old enough to fuck legally. I guess that's how you might see it if you were there. I'm that old (or more) but I wasn't there when it came out. I was in G'burg hanging out with stoners, then graduating to alternative liking Billy Idol. I didn't know about the weird music, though what little bits I heard I loved. It was about ten years later that I entered alternative music and clubs and never went back. So the music might be old, but for me it's only about a decade.
Then I came home, did that phone thing, showered, and faded out while watching the Beavis and Butthead movie. And it was good.
Written to:
Idol - Blue Highway
Clash - The english civil war
They might be giants - Kiss me, son of god
Mono in VCF - Modern Nocturne
Style Council - The Internationalists
Dury, Ian, & the blockheads - You're more than fair
Last night I had an odd moment in the gym. They are playing 80s music in the gym, mostly dull stuff but with some decent songs mixed in...the way pop radio was in the mid-80s. My hair is utterly out of control, and I have no time to either cut or attend to it. I am in very serious danger of looking like John Basedow
. I'm old enough to know that is a bad thing. Add in the music and I'm flashing back to the Montgomery Village YMCA where I lifted weights. Only, I look like someone else in the mirror. Someone meaty and jock-like. My fantasy remains, only the number of reasons increases. I still want to do it all over again, I want to live those years, with that body, with what I know today. Usually that's just a financial and physical goal, knowing where the economy was going and where to invest, starting and staying with a fighting form, knowing how to work out and having the discipline to do it while my body was a raging torrent of hormones. Now I think about how I could go to those clubs at those times, pick out the weirdos in the school, live it at the time instead of being into something retro. One of the first things I think about is how easy school would be, and bargaining with my parents "Look I want to appear bizarre, like purple mohawk, and I'm willing to be on the honor role to do that..." The lottery jackpot impossible dream doesn't grant all this - it's just money now to throw at my fading body.
The nastiest thing I thought of was hitting the gay scene and knowing that HIV was coming. I'd probably earn the name kissing bandit knowing how to avoid the virus. I wouldn't be close to anyone, not knowing who would go and knowing that saying a word would just make people think I was crazy. Ugh, if I throw social obligations into the fantasy I'd have no choice but to be a raving lunatic, railing against things people haven't heard of.
Work today is going to be worthless. I just want to get drunk. And maybe dance.
Kangal noted once that a song was 18 years old - old enough to fuck legally. I guess that's how you might see it if you were there. I'm that old (or more) but I wasn't there when it came out. I was in G'burg hanging out with stoners, then graduating to alternative liking Billy Idol. I didn't know about the weird music, though what little bits I heard I loved. It was about ten years later that I entered alternative music and clubs and never went back. So the music might be old, but for me it's only about a decade.
Then I came home, did that phone thing, showered, and faded out while watching the Beavis and Butthead movie. And it was good.
Written to:
Idol - Blue Highway
Clash - The english civil war
They might be giants - Kiss me, son of god
Mono in VCF - Modern Nocturne
Style Council - The Internationalists
Dury, Ian, & the blockheads - You're more than fair
