A Punk Grows Up

 Over the past few months I've noticed a huge surge in nostalgia toward those years of my youth, in which I attacked the WORLD/ NORMALCY/ STATUS QUO / SHIT EVERYTHING with the venom and anger that could only find brethren in the Punk Scene.

I have savored watching movies like, The Other F Word, American Hardcore and many others popping up to remind me just how fucking old I've gotten. I'm watching old footage of Black Flag circa 1980's Cali, seeing these beautiful boys and girls rampage......and it hits me...........I'VE TURNED INTO THE FUCKING ESTABLISHMENT......... e gads.......I was never supposed to get this old.

Honestly I'm not that bitter. The years have given me the wisdom and resilience to focus my rage and turn it into a motivating force. I wouldn't be the animal that I am if it hadn't been for those brief years of resentment induced freedom.

Watching the footage from those films, I see we've all gotten a little grayer, a little more hesitant to strike out at those around of. Hell, some of us have grown a conscience.

Occasionally we old punks run into each other at school functions, the grocery store or at work. Sometimes the shirts slip revealing some ink. Maybe you've got a small PennyWise or Bad Brains sticker on your family car.

Just another step on the journey. I've got kids of my own, and they get a huge kick outta the pictures of me with purple hair. This entire rant is just a nod and a thank you to those who reveled in the music, the art, the written word of that experience. A brief look back to those who didn't make it out. A hell yeah to those of us that infiltrated and took over.

But, I swear.....if I hear Adolescents or SSD on a classic rock station....I will come at you with a machete......