Four camps one bad decade

A primo dude in his natural habitat. I will surely catch hell for posting this picture but I am a servant to my adoring public after all.











When I was a wee yewt (My Cousin Vinny style) and the era of metal/hard rock was in full rock throes I was definitely not the coolest dude at the club. I tried and everything but I was just not there…not tall enough, hair wasn’t awesome enough, didn’t know how to rip up my t-shirt appropriately and a laundry list of other things led to my dorkdom. I had lots of friends who were primo dinero though so I got to at least hang around with the rockers that were up to snuff. That was cool. I had friends in a band called Misfit Alley. Go me. Anyway you flash forward a number of years and those uber-rockers have gotten older and fallen into four camps.

Camp One – Dudes that have moved on with their lives and become functional human beings. You probably know some of them and don’t even realize it. They’re just dudes who had their moment in the sun and totally got laid and had bitching times and then saw the end coming and moved on. Those are mostly pretty good dudes although there is usually a twinge of sadness and embarrassment when they talk about the good old days of Lip Service pants and belts made out of handcuffs and/or bullets. If they play music at all they wear sandals and jean shorts onstage. After the gig they drive home listening to “Blizzard of Ozz” in the mini-van. I imagine that occasionally they weep. They hate all new music, new being defined as anything recorded after Metallica’s LOAD album.

Camp Two – Dudes still playing in bands pretending they’re in their twenties and getting really twitchy and perturbed when the sins of their past are brought up in conversation. They’re all over the place although I think the decline of Korn style nu-metal might finally do them in. The conversations you can have with them if you are an old fucker from back then are great.

Me – “Hey, isn’t your name Robbie”
Dude – “Robert….(sneering)…..”
Me – “I thought that was you. We used to play shows together when I was in Stonejury and you were in RATT FINX”
Dude – (totally panicked and looking around to see that no one has heard about the RATT FINX)..”uhhh…yeah…I’m in Ignition Reactor now/”
Me – “Wow no kidding never heard of your band but I remember RATT FINX when your singer would come out yelling ‘WELL LICK MY BUTT AND BALLS IT’S A RATT FINX ROCK AND ROLL SHOW!!!!!! LET ME SEE THOSE TITTIES FLYING!!!!’ Man those were some crazy shows huh?”
Dude – (Head swiveling like the girl from the Exorcist and lip starting to sweat profusely) “….heh…yeah man…..uhhh……..(whispers)….the dudes in my band don’t like me talking about those days so ummmm……”
Me – “What, are you some kind of fugitive war criminal or something?”
Dude – “No man but y’know Ignition Reactor is more serious and stuff and we’re trying to get signed. We have like a shitload going on with myspace and you know it’s not good for the…we don’t give a FUCK about image…but for the uh, the way people see the band and all that we…uhhh…. I mean I used to be in those kind of bands.”
Me – “So you’re not allowed to say you were in RATT FINX?”
Dude – “No, I’m allowed to..it’s just that I can’t I mean don’t man.”
Me – “Oh I see….well I gotta go play now. See you later.”
Dude – (looks down his nose from beneath his dyed black thinning bangs)…”Yeah later.”

The best part is when you have access to a microphone and you can say something great like “I was just talking to Robert from Ignition Reactor. I hadn’t seen him in how long…man ten years, eleven maybe, when he was in a band called RATT FINX and we played a show for his 27th birthday. Give it up for Robert!!!” Robert gets very, very irritated as his cover has blown more wide open than the bowling alleys that are what’s left of his hairline. Camp two dudes are usually replaced in their bands by slightly younger versions of themselves.

Camp Three – The Guns n Roses dudes. These are my favorite dudes of all. They have not progressed an iota since they were the cocks of the walk back in the day. The hair is long (thin but long) the jeans are tight, the boots are snakeskin and the girls (now wives) are still bleach blonde and dumb as shit. They still rock their pointy guitars albeit to fewer people in shittier places and drive Camaros and think they’re total badasses. They’re rare now and hard to find outside of their natural habitat of Ocean City, Maryland but every once in a while you get a glimpse. I was lucky enough to see not one but two just the other day. Where you may ask, well let me tell you......

The Mrs. and I were canoodling in a comfy sofa at a club people watching and chit-chatting when GnR dude #1 came in. Black Boots, acidwashed jeans, button-down pirate shirt tucked in, puffy hair dyed to the blackest of nights and a waddle under his chin that wiggled like a water balloon. With him was his paramour; a loud mouthed pancake make-upped white blonde harridan that was about 100 pounds too big for the miracle of structural integrity that were her jeans. From his look I’m guessing GnRD#1 was a drummer and I’m sure his drumset is massive. GnRD#1 and hag were staring around the club looking dumb when his phone rang. I was bummed that the ringtone wasn’t a Dokken tune or “the Final Countdown” by Europe but instead just bleeps and bloops. After a brief convo he clipped the phone back on and murmured something to Miss Piggy and they went upstairs. Ten minutes later they come down with GnRD#2 who was flipping his hair to and fro and holding the hand of his “lady” who bore a fascinating resemblance to the Joker…..excellent specimens worthy of a museum.

GnRD#2 was obviously THE lead singer. His pants were ultra-tight and in a woman’s cut and he had the bracelets and rings and snakeskin cowboy boots that are part of the uni. Most of all he had the hair and it’s associated flip down to a science. Pliff went the mane to the left, Swiff went the mane to the right and all the while he had the look of total disdain on his angular mug that I recognized from so many nights way back when. He was rocking the attitude and rocking it well. As usually happens and has been happening with the GnRDs for the better part of twenty years their women got drunk and started acting like asshole lunatics screeching about some perceived injustice that had been perpetrated. When this happened the GnRDs “flexed up” and stared around a lot and finally left the room to go upstairs with the women of GnRDs yelling, “I AIN’T GONNA TAKE THAT SHIT YOU HEAR WHAT HE SAID” and the like. The highlight for me came a few minutes later when they all came back downstairs to stare around some more and GnRD#1 bit it on the steps and fell. I can’t say for sure but I think the fact that he was wearing dark black aviator sunglasses in a dark club might have led to his downfall (ba-da-bump). Regardless he fell and I couldn’t contain the laughter. It was great.

Camp Four – The dudes that are still doing stuff and are cool enough to have some laughs about what shitheads everyone was back “then”. I love those dudes but there aren’t a whole of them out there. Camp Four dudes…..where are you when we need you the most? You should know that dude in the picture above falls squarely in camp four and he deserves credit for getting to such an illustrious stage in life. As for the slut sitting next to him, well, my guess would be she’s getting ready to start some shit at the bar with her camp three boyfriend after she gets her ugly, bratty kids to go to sleep.