I think I finally understand why my parent’s generation gave up the good fight and got jobs in the suburbs and left their hippy values at the commune. The truth is you can only put up the battle for so long. I use to take some level of pride in the fact that I never wanted the bland boring existence that exists in American mediocrity. The truth is I’m about ready to embrace it head on.
Just imagine I could shop at the Gap without worrying about little hands in sweatshops and drive a car that guzzles gas. I can afford the extra money each week. I could wear Polo and listen to crap like country and easy listening. Maybe I could even meet a nice girl who has no opinion on anything and we can start putting money into a 401K and blind faith into our president. I could do all of these things and finally for once feel like I belong somewhere. That somewhere would be the warm bosom of Mother America where strip malls and Chili’s and cul-de-sacs rule the landscape. Maybe we could even be clever and rename the cul-de-sac a freedom sac. We are boycotting the French right?
Don’t get me started on the counter culture, because it is the twin brother of conformity. Whatever fashion statement you make will be white washed by Abercrombie and all the rage in 6 months. Your music will become fodder for MTV shows were teens text message each other underneath your once favorite artist’s new video. I have watched more TV in the last 2 years than I did in the first 26. So I am well on my way to the land of the lotus eaters. Make room on the Ikea couch for me.
I guess maybe I am finally wedged into that gray area were all your friends are having babies and everyone at the local hotspot stares at the weird old guy when I walk in. I can not relate to Linkin Park and Ashton Kutcher. All the people that catch my references to movies, music and culture are too busy raising families to hang out anymore. That’s fine and that’s normal and that is beautiful and wonderful. I just hope one day I can take that leap into adulthood and have enough faith in the fact that if I land on my face beaten and heartbroken at least I had the nerve to take an honest shot at life.
Just imagine I could shop at the Gap without worrying about little hands in sweatshops and drive a car that guzzles gas. I can afford the extra money each week. I could wear Polo and listen to crap like country and easy listening. Maybe I could even meet a nice girl who has no opinion on anything and we can start putting money into a 401K and blind faith into our president. I could do all of these things and finally for once feel like I belong somewhere. That somewhere would be the warm bosom of Mother America where strip malls and Chili’s and cul-de-sacs rule the landscape. Maybe we could even be clever and rename the cul-de-sac a freedom sac. We are boycotting the French right?
Don’t get me started on the counter culture, because it is the twin brother of conformity. Whatever fashion statement you make will be white washed by Abercrombie and all the rage in 6 months. Your music will become fodder for MTV shows were teens text message each other underneath your once favorite artist’s new video. I have watched more TV in the last 2 years than I did in the first 26. So I am well on my way to the land of the lotus eaters. Make room on the Ikea couch for me.
I guess maybe I am finally wedged into that gray area were all your friends are having babies and everyone at the local hotspot stares at the weird old guy when I walk in. I can not relate to Linkin Park and Ashton Kutcher. All the people that catch my references to movies, music and culture are too busy raising families to hang out anymore. That’s fine and that’s normal and that is beautiful and wonderful. I just hope one day I can take that leap into adulthood and have enough faith in the fact that if I land on my face beaten and heartbroken at least I had the nerve to take an honest shot at life.
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