Wednesday, November 14, 2007

I like peanut butter. Let's F*ck.

I find that I am starting to dislike with an extreme passion anyone born in 1985. I have been trying with an almost absurd effort to keep this at bay. I realize that there is nothing wrong with having been born in 1985. People don't really choose their year of birth, but I can't help it. I see this as a sign of getting old. And as my 31st birthday is fast approaching maybe I have to admit that I have indeed become old and more then a bit crotchety. I can't help but to sympathize with my friend Mono who was demonstrating that he is in fact practicing for old age.

He brilliantly painted this picture for a group of us gathered around the bar a few weeks ago.

"I want to be that old guy, with that house at the end of the street that is in need of repair, and a big overgrown yard, and I want the kids to hurry past in the morning whispering 'That's old man wolf's place.' And I've been practicing too, for the day that first ball or Frisbee or PDA lands in my yard, whatever, I look forward to the first day I those monsters play rock, paper, scissors to see who will be sacrificed to the evil maniacal whims of old man Wolf, and then they come into my yard, and here, well check this out 'You kids get off my yard!!!"

Trust me, the perfect crotchety bellow to which Mono has perfected this actually made all of think of scattering for a moment before we doubled over in laughter and bought him drinks for the rest of the night. It's perfect.

The problem is I find myself increasingly wanting to bellow the same thing on Wednesday night in my bar.

Last night I just wanted to see some friends and play pool but most people I know were staying in and the only people who were out last night were the kids. The children of the 1980's who have only recently started to migrate to Korea in droves. And why not Korea is a fun place to be. I know from personal experience that the turnover rate is high and the season change has just begun. Everyone who was out last night has been in country 6 months and all of them 'can't wait to get home'. Fine, I'll be happy to see the back of them.

I went to play pool, with a little social lubricant I can deal with anything so I made short work of the first vodka, and added to that a second just to be sure and convinced some people to play pool with me. And everything was fine until the 80's crowd declared "Hey, let's make it an oldies night!" and walked over to the computer.

The computer is set so anyone can add music to the never ending play list. I like oldies music so I did not complain.

Until the first song hit the computer.

Eye of the Tiger.

This, I think, as I become distracted from my pool game, is not oldies music.

Then we have the list as it fully develops and starts to take over. The oldies music queued up by the 1980's crowd.

We have:

Daryl Hall and Oates

Lionel Richie


Reo Speedwagon


Bryan Adams


It goes on, I can't even remember half the crap they were playing. Don't get me wrong, I like music from the 80's but give me something that wasn't top forty for the love of lal things holy. I can enjoy Blondie, Madonna, and Abba with the rest of them, but then mix in some Yazoo, or some B'52's (oh, rock lobster) or Soft Cell, or Modern English, or Frank Zappa, or Eurythmics, Devo, come on kids, surely you have heard of good music?

But no, this is the new generation, the generation of neo-adults who think that the 80's is oldies and that if you want to pick someone up in a bar you can say "I like peanut butter, let's fuck!" Get me started on all the ways that that's wrong. (Aside from being a bastardization of a goth parady 'Nice boots! Wanna fuck!')

These are kids who look at you like your crazy when you talk about Captain Kangaroo, when you mentioned that owned a ColecoVision (MouseTrap kicked ass! And Zaxxon? Get me started) who think that there have always been cell phones, MTV was always a reality t.v. station and the Wedding Singer was a period movie (there is a good 80's period movie, American Psycho, captures the essence beautifully).

Maybe I am getting old and crotchety. The music distracted me from my game and form and I lost. I blamed the music. I blamed feeling misplaced or displaced by the sudden convergence of young fold on MY bar.

I went to the Lonely Hearts Club to feel better, to be with my peers, and Hyun patted me kindly on the back, but the kids had beaten me there. And as I ordered my first drink the jukebox (alright fine, the computer) turned over and started playing Venus by Bananrama.

"Hey you kids, get out of my bar!!" my brain screams.

I was in bed by midnight.


Jill said...

Hey I'm way older than you (39) & 80s music ******IS******* oldies!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Just for the record). :-)

I think you would like this guy's 80s music. sound awake

Have you ever heard Get Off my Lawn! by Reverend Billy C. Wirtz? It is soooooooooooo funny...

It's like Hey You Get off my Cloud except it's hey you little bastards, get off a my lawn - reminded me of your whole post but especially the get out of my bar part. :-)

xanrex said...

Miae and I agree that different generations should be separated through some sort of legal means...

Saradevil said...


Never heard of it but I'll have to see if I can check it out.


If only. If only. It would be a more perfect world.