Since I’ve started this little conduit of ideas, I’ve been told in no uncertain terms several times to ‘shut up and just play music’ by people who disagree with my opinions. This is a funny sentiment because I’ve also been told throughout the course of my life to quit playing music entirely by people who think that my music sucks (people actually usually say ‘don’t quit your day job’ which, ironically, was always music). Now, presumably, if I quit playing music the only other marketable skill I have is writing. You see where the quandary here is, don’t you? I mean, critics or ‘haters’ or simply strangers who seem to know what’s best for me (or know what’s best for the world at large [much better without my music/writing]) have hurled my soul into a ping-pong match of competing low-paying, highly aggravating professions, and I’m kind of stuck in it, since I may not be a great musician and I may not be a great writer, but you should see me try to do pretty much anything else. I’m really, really terrible at that.
Well, that’s not entirely true. You know those Chinese balls that you rotate in your palm (heyo!)? I’m excellent at manipulating those (again, heyo!). I can do it both directions with both hands and never clink the balls together. I’d dare say I’ve never met anyone who can do the balls as well as me (though I’m sure those folks are out there, probably in China). What else am I great at? I’ve got a really good sense of how to season eggs. Sometimes I make ‘em a little too salty, but usually, no matter what style I’m going for, I pretty much nail it. I’m not much of a cook otherwise, but I can fuck up some eggs, boy. And that’s about it.
I feel pretty good about this list of talents. I mean, I’ve got one thing that I can do to express myself concisely (writing) one artistic outlet (music) one way to provide myself with tasty food (egg seasoning) and a way to just relax (balls). I also bone like a hitatchi magic wand attached to a perfect dong attached to a gyroscope, but that’s really neither here nor there.
The point is, I’m cool with being okay at a few things and great at one completely useless thing. Hell, most of you aren’t good at anything. Eh, it’s true. That whole notion that everyone’s good at something, it’s a fallacy. And before you throw up your hands and call me a pessimist or an asshole or a cocksucker or whatever (and tell me to shut up and stick to music) think about your lame cousin or your girlfriend’s ex boyfriend or that chick you used to finger behind the mall dumpsters…You know plenty of people who aren’t good at anything. I mean, I know a ton of people who just suck at the whole deal of being alive. It’s not uncommon. In fact, it’s the MOST common, and interestingly, the people most likely to believe this whole notion that ‘everyone is good at something’ are the exact people who are left out of the equation: namely, those who have no particular talent at all.
But I’m kind of getting off the subject. The point here is that in all too many instances, masses point to creative type folks and decide that they can have no opinion pretty much because they’re already acting/singing/drawing Garfield. I mean, how many times did I hear someone say that Kal Penn (our beloved Kumar) should stick to acting when he was analyzing the situation in the middle east. Never mind that he’s highly educated on the subject (to the point where he even got a cabinet position [if only because our president is a Kenyan cigarette smoking socialist]) and the people telling him to ‘stick to being a stoner in movies’ almost certainly know less than he does about the situation at hand. Why is his opinion automatically tossed off as shitty, superfluous and a pain in the dick to hear?
I think the answer lies in the fact that he’s lucky enough to make movies for a living. He doesn’t need to concern himself with wahabi sects in Saudi Arabia, man. He’s living the goddamned dream, and I’ll be dipped in shit if I’m gonna listen to someone that I PAY TO ENTERTAIN ME say anything other than what I want to hear them say. I think that’s the general rationale. Yeah?
Now, I’m no Kal Penn. I don’t know shit about anything, and I’m not formulating any policy, AND I’m not rich or living anything even close to ‘the dream’. I’m just a dipshit sitting here wasting the time that I could be spending making music, which I should really stay home and not play, if you follow the logic, but see, that doesn’t really work for me.
In fact, when people say that kind of shit to me, or use patently lazy rationalizations for why my opinions are wrong (I can’t argue about my music…it’s not that good and I’ve got the sales sheets to prove it) it really doesn’t make me want to quit or back down. In fact, kind of the opposite. Case in point: hmmmm….well, there have been a lot of situations where I’ve been told to stuff my opinion up my ass and just sing and dance like I’m supposed to: Against Me!, Bruce Springsteen, Punk Voter, microbrews, uh, what else…there’s something else recently that I said that got some people’s panties all bunchy…hmmmm.
Oh, right. Motorcycles. Listen, if you can’t even follow the fact that (firstly) I’m NOT just talking about weekend warrior harley dads, you need to take a comprehension class. I’m talking about all you dorks, including those that ride BMW’s, old Hondas, Ducatis, Yamahas, crotchrockets, the whole deal. I actually spent some time going into the various brands of dipshit-on-motorcycles that I was decrying, so don’t act like I’m being reductive and missing out on the big picture (it’s also worth mentioning, speaking of the big picture, that no one specifically told me to shut up and stick to music at the expense of my motorcycle hating yesterday…just so we’re being fair and balanced, and all that good stuff).
As I said, I’ve got people I count among my very best friends in the world who ride bikes, and I know what I’m talking about, and my opinion stands. I’d in fact, since you brought it up, like to point out that riding a motorcycle is like smoking cigarettes, in that it’s something that’s done EXCLUSIVELY because it’s “cool and dangerous.” It’s an affectation. That’s it. (Now, right here is a good place to go off on a tangent and say smoking sucks and people who do it are or were insecure/desperate for acceptance [and then subsequently strangled by the vice of addiction] but some smokers are still cool anyway, yo, but I’m not gonna do that, because I’d like to think that it goes without saying). AND before you tell me that riding a motorcycle ISN’T an affectation, I’d remind you that you knew it was dangerous and that’s what attracted you to it in the first place. Sure, in Europe and other places with narrow roads, it’s a practical vehicle, but here, nah brah…it’s not. I mean, gas mileage? Don’t you bullshit me about gas mileage at the expense of passengers, things to combat inclement weather, the noise and the fact that those motherfuckers break down like crazy. “cool?” eh…maybe (no). “Practical?” Nooooo.
Besides, why don’t you take a hint from your insurgent lifestyle and go burn some rubber and ignore one little dirty diapered shithead on the internet who doesn’t like your dumb hobby…Actually, you know what? That’s totally fucked. Insurgent hobbies are BY NATURE disliked by most people…that’s A HUGE PART OF THEIR APPEAL. If you don’t like me or anyone else disliking your hobby/lifestyle, get one that’s not offensive and carefully designed and maintained to remain ‘outside the box’ (a massively lame term I would never use to describe something cool, by the way). Your choice, bro. I mean, what’s next? You only like skateboarding in helmets and pads at the skatepark? You only listen to MxPx? Come on. Being hated is the best part of doing something that’s out there.
Now, make no mistake, I’m on the side of enjoyment and I’m unequivocally against hating on someone for doing what they love. BUT, what some people fail to understand is that this here blog (I mean, it’s a blog…) is a fucking joke. It’s named Bad Sandwich for fucks sake. If you’re gonna get butthurt every time someone pisses on anything you like in a forum designed for entertainment or everytime a blowhard asshole on the internet hints at your dick size, well, I frankly don’t know how you get around this crazy world (and specifically the internet) at all.
Now, to get specific: as for your completely asinine counterargument that using this reductive logic, I’m no different than Benji Madden, you’re wrong. Know why? Benji Madden is successful and I’m not. That’s the only difference between us though. So in that sense, you’re right. We both play in bands, we both write the best songs that we can come up with. The only difference is that a large chunk of people like his songs while mine appeal almost exclusively to a pretty small subsect of a larger subculture. If you think for even one second that I feel that I’m above Benji because he lifts choruses from Jay Z and wears goofy clothes, I’ll thank you to remember that I lift choruses all the time and used to bleach my hair and wear medallions. AND, the only people on earth, generally that I truly feel like I’m better than are sad little motorcycle enthusiasts who can neither laugh at themselves nor divorce themselves from their dumb hobbies.
Now please, bear in mind that I’m constantly, CONSTANTLY mocked for what I do, be it being a bad blogger, lame singer, horrible musician, purveyor of dumb cultural stereotypes, someone who ‘complains about being a dad too much (so spoken by someone I’d really like to yell at, but it wouldn’t be funny or entertaining, so I’m gonna just leave it at that), or general loser/drunk/clown/asshole/wannabe….and these are all comments on my personality/abilities and I’m not crying about generalizations…these are PERSONAL stabs taken at me by strangers…and yes, I shouldn’t’ dare try to entertain people if I don’t want criticism…I’m comfortable with that, but YOU came here and posted in the sock drawer, a part of this blog that is exceedingly well traveled and oft referenced by me…I didn’t come to you.
Soooo sack up, and don’t fucking bring your sad-dog face around here complaining that my dumb, unfunny jokes have hurt your feelings due to being grossly tied to a lame stereotype (thereby missing at least 2 points), and suggest that I’m a close minded asshole. It bears repeating that 3 people that I would consider BEST FRIENDS, people I would donate organs to (and probably will have to due to their dumb fascination with motorcycles) are bike owners and enthusiasts and so, you know…jokes, bro. Jokes.
This, however is not a joke: You’ve got the balls to ride a motorcycle, how bout you grow the balls to read about one. You can cry and argue this shit like it’s a court case or an official referendum on you and your Yamaha café racer, but it’s just a goddamned blog written by an asshole.
And seriously, I’m just being a wiseass. Don’t be so sad. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. That said, thanks for the offer, but I’d rather ride an ostrich than a motorcycle. Oh, and to the other guy who says I complain too much and longs for a return to the way this blog used to be, seriously, you can go sit on a dick. Eh? That a little more what you were looking for? Good.
Have a good weekend.