Friday, October 12, 2007
Let's do the Lighten Up!
Due to a recent surge in faithful readership (Now 20’s of Us!) I’ve begun to feel a distinct need to further clarify and illuminate this phenomena know as the Manual Typewriter Generation so that We, its elite and rapidly aging members, can stand ever more proudly amongst our fellow citizens and proclaim the righteousness of our existence, the soundness of our thinking, the purity of our intentions as we demand full recognition of our overlooked but honorable fraternity.
So I submit the following as evidence of your inclusion into our brave ranks.
Can you remember that murky time long past before the existence of ATM’s? Where the Hell did we get the cold green paper from back then? Did we just walk around with it stuffed in our pockets at all indecent hours of the day and night? What did we do after dropping that final dollar in the very last saloon before realizing we would require a fat bag of White Castles before the ride home? It’s all foggy to me somehow………..
When making phone calls did you ever carry the actual dialing device (approximate size of 2 bricks strapped together) in one hand with the receiver in the other while being simultaneously tethered to a wire connected to the wall, which, if you sought after mobility, you had to maneuver around your body like you were playing Double-Dutch? Fun, no?
Can you remember when Playboy was risqué and Penthouse was hardcore, sometime before Hustler came along and shocked the Nation with its XXX depravity? And we lugged these glossy smut rags home to our secret stash spot where we collected, drooled on, jerked over and treasured-while guarding with our lives-these sacred texts for years? How quaint we were.
Now in maybe 5 mins and a few mouse clicks I can find porn that, not only haven’t I experienced in life most real, I haven’t even thought of before.
I like Jay Leno. I think he is most probably, in real life, exactly as he appears to be on stage- a likable, jocular, fair, good guy with a sometimes sharp tongue.
But………………Mr. Leno, I knew Johnny Carson…I was a friend of Johnny Carson…and Mr. Leno….You are no Johnny Carson.
Does your heart yearn to hear the opening strains of Doc Severinson’s blasting theme as Ed McMahon trumpets those magic words of the electric showbiz past-
Just a MTG question- Do boys/girls even slowdance anymore?
The absolute pinnacle of my 8th grade existence was when I held Adriana Lopez in my grateful arms as we swayed to “Reasons” by Earth, Wind and Fire at our private Graduation “Set”. Sometime near the end of that lovely number I got up the nerve to slide my sweaty, hungry hands down to her luscious ass. She let me.
If I live to be 100 I’ll never be able to thank her enough.
Do you recall when the worst possible post-sex scenario involved either-
2.Herpes Simplex II (Oh the incurable horror of cold sores!)
The blissful innocence of it all. Only years into my actual practice of this most sublime of Adult pleasures AIDS was being screamed at us everywhere we ran to and had everyone quaking in their chonies with mass-media scare tactics (Sex=Death) possibly/probably designed to destroy sex in America once and forever. Talk about a Buzzkill.
If you can understand and sympathize with these thoughts then you are, fortunately or no, a member of the MTG. If not- and you’re still reading- CONGRATULATIONS! You are the sole owner of youth and beauty and the future is entirely yours (sorry about that one but we did our best you know) so celebrate your transient power and while you’re at it please heed these gentle words of wisdom-
Put down your F*****G cellphones for a second and talk to each other.
Turn off that slavemaster computer and get your face immediately out of that idiot screen. Open a window, breathe some fresh air, taste the Sun while it lasts, feel the wind through your hair.
Stash your Goddamned Blackberries, unplug your mind (if even for a precious moment) from your Ipods, go outside, enjoy the thrill of the freedom as we know it, raise your fists in the open air and proclaim to your world,
“I’M AS MAD AS HELL AND I’M NOT GONNA TAKE IT ANY MORE!”
Welcome to the MTG.
and if this doesn't make you happy (yea the sound is a bit muddy but Archie is in fine voice) then check your pulse.