...Why I am a Hypocrit

I've always considered myself a non-conformist. I hate people telling me what is cool and whether or not I should like something because it is cool. I've always rooted for the team (though always a Boston fan) that had the worst record the year before, because I never wanted to be someone who hopped on the bandwagon. I always like the bands that don't get airtime or the movies that aren't hyped to no end. Over the years I have developed a deep love for all things indie, how did this start you ask? Well let's explore...

When I was a boy I had this cassette player and two cassettes, Metallica (black album) and Green Day (dookie), for all intensive purposes, very mainstream music. I listened to them so much that after a while I couldn't stand listening to them anymore, so I flipped over to FM radio, and no surprise there, pretty much Metallica and Green Day. One night I couldn't sleep, so I reached over and grabbed my cassette player. In greater Springfield Massachusetts, radio was limited to either mainstream rock, classic rock, or hip/hop R&B. I flipped over to 99.3 the best chance to hear decent music, and the announcer says "It's 11pm, welcome to Alternative Rock hour." What was Alternative rock? I had never even heard of this before. So I gave it a listen...silence...fade in acoustic guitar...then the following words "The Roof, the roof, the roof is on fire...". It was bloodhound gangs, Fire Water Burn, the year was 1996 and I was 11 years old. Listening to this song I was hooked, not on the bloodhound gang but on this type of music, this underground gem no one had heard. I didn't know the song, because the announcer didn't say who it was, and internet was in it's infancy and I didn't have it anyway, so I asked all my friends. No one had heard of the song, and I feared I dreamt it and would never hear it's glory again. Two weeks later it's all over the radio and everyone is turning it up when it comes on. I'd tell people I liked that song when no one even knew they existed and no one believed me...shit...I was on the bandwagon...trying NOT to be on the bangwagon.

 Now, non-conformity is the new cool, the new conformity and my entire self-image is skewed. When people ask if I like the Beatle's I say I dunno because I never listened to them because everyone expected me to. Now, I listen to Kings of Leon, have an iPhone and wear Banana Republic. I guess what is most important is now that I realize I am in-fact a conformist, rather than a conformist trying to portray myself as a non-conformist. I still listen to indie music and like independent film, but now that it's cool, well I just don't know anymore. Conformity isn't all bad, gives me stuff to talk about with people I guess...

and now for your listening pleasure...The Bloodhound Gang playing Fire Water Burn

...I wrote a short story (bad language)

Asshole

I was sick of people treating me like a sack of shit. You’d think I was exaggerating, but I wasn’t. I must have had this aura, this presence, that people sub consciously pick up on where they think to themselves “I can be a complete prick to this guy and feel good about it”. People have always said rude things to me, things I know they wouldn’t say to any other; however with me it was open fucking season. Well I had it, and I had decided, standing in that airport terminal that I wasn’t going to take it anymore. Anyone who gave me shit was getting it back tenfold. That’s when it happened, it didn’t take long for this decision to have its complete effect on my life…

Needing to charge my phone, I was searching the walls of the airports for outlets, and found some among a line of wheelchairs. Noticing that there were about 7 of them, and the likelihood that all 7 would be needed in the next 20 minutes was relatively small, I plopped down in one and plugged my phone in. Now keep in mind, if 7 geriatrics stepped off the next plane, I’d get up in a heartbeat, but for right now I was just minding my own business. That’s when it happened. This middle aged fellow completely covered from neck to ankle in denim walks up to me and says in smokers voice “you know, it’s pretty insensitive to sit in that wheelchair when you don’t need it.”

                This did it, this took the cake, broke the camels back, screwed the pooch. I lost my shit, and instead of jumping up and kicking this guy in the nuts (probably protected by denim underwear), the world came to a stop and I had this moment of clarity. Finally I had the perfect response to someone fucking with me. I got out of the chair, turned slowly, faced him and said quietly and calmly, “you know it’s insensitive to wear all denim at an airport where people can see you”. After I said it, inside my body I was screaming and celebrating my victory, my heart pounding at the thought of this guys spirits just getting crushed. It was doing all of this inside celebrating that I failed to see his fist coming towards me. The second it impacted with my neck I knew I was dead. I could feel my Adam’s apple hitting the back of my throat and my larynx begin to swell. I could feel warm blood start to enter my lungs and stomach. As I fell to the ground, clutching my throat, the cops started running over. People now at this point just looking, no one but denim guy and I know why this happened. This is when I had my second moment of clarity.

                Lying on the ground of some airport in some city I have probably never visited, I looked up at my assailant and smiled. Coughing and gasping for air I realized I had won, finally, and ultimately. Not only did I zing this guy to the point of homicide, but now he’s got to look at me smiling at him and for the rest of his life he won’t know why. He now has his life in jail to think about why he did this and why I reacted the way I did. He’s there because he’s an asshole, and he met another asshole who decided not to take anyone’s shit. That and because he had really bad taste in clothing.