By Douglas V. Gibbs
Before my years of dressing preppie, and listening to Heavy Metal (what a combination, huh?), and debating in favor of Conservatism in school debates, I was quite the dirty rascal.
Squeaky Clean is a life that nobody can maintain forever, I figured, and being a wild one was fun for a season. We are wired to be the opposite of righteous, it seems, and I grabbed rebellion by both horns, but secretly.
We all fall short of the glory, one might say. Nonetheless, we aspire to a regimen of standards, and as we stumble along the way we often build character through our experiences. How can one earn sea legs without navigating the roughest seas?
I am not suggesting that we pursue the tough roads of life, but I am suggesting that often it is those silly paths we take - the kind that 20-20 hindsight tells us we would have been better off without - that helps us become the wisdom filled old folks we are destined to become.
We see those silly kids, and we think, gosh, those kids are silly. But we are viewing them through the lenses of an older generation. This is not to say we should step aside and let the youth be run over by a Mack truck, but I do believe we have to give them a certain amount of room to grow.
The younger years are critical, so we instill in our little darlings the important foundation of values and principles. When they become teenagers, and often well into their twenties, and even (gulp) later in their lives, the rebellion of youth takes a hold of them. It is like they left their brains at the door, and went on a vacation to stupid-ville. The most painful part of that is we know there is nothing we can do about it. As parents we hold our breath, and simply hope our little darlings survive.
I admire those that come out the better for facing the trials and tribulations of a stormy youth. Some folks don't make it. Others fold inward. I, myself, was not happy with the basic scenery of a rebellious youth - I decided to return to the fountain a number of times, and it took dying on the highway to convince me that my folly was indeed folly, and that it wasn't only me that was at stake.
During the early teen years of my life I became a punk rocker. Loved the music, and I loved the rebellious nature of what it was all about. However, I feared my dad so much that I knew better than to openly act out in the punk rock fashion. So, the devious little youth that I was, I had two sets of clothes at one point. One that I went to school in, and another I wore when I hung out with Phil and Scott and the other punkers I hung out with. I literally had a few groups of friends, partly in hopes of leading my folks off my trail, and sniffing elsewhere instead.
Yeah, I know, the basic premise of punk rock was hardly in line with my Christian upbringing - but it is interesting what rebellion will do once it gets a hold of a cocky, mouthy, seeking attention young man. The stench of the music was the appeal. Heavy rhythms, caustic words, and an out of the box attitude was attractive in ways I could not explain.
One of my favorite bands, and there were many (thanks to KSPC on the Claremont Campus, which played nothing but Punk Rock back then), was The Sex Pistols. And Anarchy in the U.K. was one of my favorite songs by them. Little did my little mind understand what the words were really saying - then again, I wonder if Sid Vicious really got what he was singing too.
Anti-Christ, Anarchist, It is the Way to Be. . .
I suppose it made sense to them, after all, Johnny Rotten was not fond of politicians, Christians, or anything else, for that matter.
Well, despite the message, at the time, it was a lot of fun to slam into my friends until we were bruised and bloody, as we listened to The Sex Pistols. . . and much, much more.
I came across this video, and it brought back a lot of memories. So, without any further adieu, here is Anarchy in the U.K. with The Sex Pistols:
and God Save The Queen:
Well, at least I didn't get into the body piercing. . . or the drugs.
-- Political Pistachio Conservative News and Commentary
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