In the meantime, this is an omitted piece for a book I don't care for... enjoy!
A LOOK BACK AT THE BEGINNING OF THIS
In the middle of the
1990’s, the Prostitutes alienated me from my friends, family, and other
mainstream fare as far as I remember. We
lived recklessly, listened to hot new singles by the Problematics, Gaunt, Ashley
Von Hurter, and Killed by Death Vols. 1-9.
Those moments were the best-unexpected bursts of life that ever happened
to me at the time.
Parting is painless
as long as there’s a bottle of Ten High and a line of unholy intervention. No rules, no dogma. How would that apply to us growing up in the
middle of American nowhere, when does the next bus leave? What was the alternative? A state job, smoking pot in your parents’
basement, or working at cardiac arrest-foods incorporated.
The real sounds of
freedom and sordid rebellion screamed from the swamps of the Mid-Atlantic and
Eastern Mid-West, with the occasional West Coast beach town. The vibrations fell mostly upon deaf
ears. There was no tomorrow, some days
there still isn’t. Do what you want and when
you want to. If there’s a good beat and
some dysfunctional sex appeal, it sure as hell beats the lifestyle doldrums of
the cantankerous suburbs we assumed were a safety net but proved to be a
frontal lobotomy for those who couldn’t comprehend the poor man’s Footloose of
it all.
I just bought another
cell phone 10 months ago, still regret it; I’ve changed the number and my
psychological perspective too many times since 1998. Change, change, change is inevitable… whether
you are seeking it or begging a
dollar from a young college idealist for your next Mickey’s. No offense to higher learning but it appears
to consist mostly of the training of schematics as opposed to the bondage of
complacency and mediocrity.
No more nothing…...sometimes
I wish. However, those who shared their
homes and lives with me will always have a place in my survival. A dream…. maybe. I can’t even get a hold of those people
anymore. They either moved on or disappeared. Long distance land line bills, P.O boxes ….antiquities
of the past. Only precious vinyl records
still exist from all of the wreckage of days gone by. Fragmented pieces of evidence that I was
there. I toast to the days of pure
deviance and unbridled excitement without apology.
-Kevin McGovern (the Prostitutes)
