Over the past few days I have meditated on the state of today's youth. I was driving my car through my parents' neighborhood the other day, and as I came to a four-way stop sign I noticed a gang of kids whose ages ranged from about thirteen to fifteen. Now, being on their bicycles in a relatively safe neighborhood, it dawned on me that these kids are soft. Decked out in pads from head to toe, I became furious just laying eyes upon these kids. I remember ten years ago, I was riding my Haro Shredder around the neighborhood doing wheelies and stoppies in between constructing the most ridiculous "ramps" out of the most ridiculous pieces of wood I could find. All of this without any types of padding. Anybody who has had the pleasure of setting their eyes on me will tell you that I am more grisled that ninety percent of the male population. To date, I have broken thirteen bones, amassed over 50 stitches, have arthritis in one shoulder due to thirteen shoulder separations, and permanent nerve damage in my neck which leaves the tips of my fingers tingling. While those numbers may be somewhat staggering, I'm of the belief that said injuries have made me the man I am today and I'd do it all over again if I have to. My mother, God bless her, had the perfect question waiting for me every time I came home bloodied and hobbled.
"Mom," I'd say "me and Joe were jumping our bikes and I think I messed up my ankle." (I know that's bad grammar to say "me and Joe," I did that on purpose, professor.)
She would then counter with "Well, why the hell did you do that?" From a very young age I was held responsible for my own actions, no matter how stupid. Seriously, what better question to ask a kid who just effed himself up than "What the hell did you do that for?" Each time she said it I had to re-evaluate my life and come up with a concrete reason for why, at thirteen, it was a terrible idea to sit on a skateboard and go screaming down a large hill around a blind corner where I was in real danger of being wedged under somebody's minivan.
(Funny sidestory: My brother and I were HUGE into roller blading when we were younger. One time a kid in the neighborhood tried to big-time us by doing his paper route on rollerSKATES, totally bit it going down that same hill, and wound up with some missing teeth and a broken wrist.)
Now, being soft is not only reserved for extracurriculars. It seems as though schools have totally taken the fun out of being a kid. In terms of their education, the "No Child Left Behind" business, this feel-good, touchy-feely bullshit, has made it okay for every kid to be an absolute dolt. By celebrating mediocrity and shunning any real praise for kids who bust their balls every single day, we slip farther and farther into the stereotype that Americans are lazy good-for-nothing jagoffs. I will also point out that schools in the Northeast are also going so far as to ban dodge ball from physical education. I'm not a fan of social Darwinism from an economic standpoint but come on. Why do we punish the kids who are good at things? I know when I was a kid dealing with the angst we all go through at one time, a good way to blow off some steam was to bean one of my peers in the head with an all-purpose athletic ball. One of the old school red ones. Nothing made me happier than to send a kid back to class with a big "VOIT" tattooed across his face, or at the very least, his upper-chest/neck region. A lot of people will tell you that hitting a homer in baseball is the best feeling in the world. Some will tell you that draining a
thirty footer in somebody's face is the ultimate sports-related high. I will contest that the sound of a playground ball, that all-too-familiar "FFTHOOM!" sound is like church bells to me. Remember that scene in the Big Lebowski when The Dude is mediating on his rug listening to the sounds of bowling pins being knocked down? I wish I had a 90-minute cassette tape with that "FFFTHOOM!" sound over and over, both sides, extended play. Can somebody make that happen?Lastly, something has been on my mind for some time and I feel this is the perfect forum for me to air this one out. Emo music is making our nations' youth absolutely useless. First CD I bought with my own money - Metallica's Black Album. I had angst, I had rage inside me, but I funneled those feelings into pure aggression and face-melting licks on the meedly-meedlies. And I thank Kirk Hammet for getting me through my early teens. Seriously, if you're having a bad day, please listen to the guitar solo in any PRE-"Load" Metallica album and you'll be all set. Maybe I'll write another blog about how THEY'RE a bunch of sissies now, but I need to stay on track. Let me put it this way, I'm a pretty sensitive guy when I have to be. I am usually (and by usually I mean rarely) considerate of other people's feelings, especially those of the fairer sex (but not really). However, there is a time and a place for everything. Hey kids, everybody gets made fun of once and a while. Everybody has awkward and rough times, and if you think that Jr. High and High School are the end-all, be-all to your existence, then maybe you should drink bleach. Here's a tip from me; life gets way cooler when you're OUT of school. So stop pricking your finger and writing in your "Nightmare Before Christmas" journal in your own blood, shit will buff out. I'm also pretty sure that the girl you're pining over, the really artsy girl who has interesting things to say, she already has a pussy and doesn't need another one. Chicks dig confidence, not guys who wear tighter clothing than they do and have half their faces covered by a single lock of purple hair. Do yourself a favor, pick yourself up of the ground, rub some dirt or spit into whatever wound you have, and be a goddamn Bruin about it. If some kids at school are picking on you 'cause you're different, kick somebody's ass like in prison. It's not cool to be miserable for the sake of looking cool. Sure it worked for the Cure, but not for upper-middle class kids from New England. Unearned unhappiness is for jerkoffs. There, I said it.
Hard to the Core, Core to the Rotten,R VON D (aka Kid Dynamite)
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