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“So take the photographs, and still-frames in your mind.
Hang it on the shelf of good health and good time.
Tattoo’s of memories and dead skin on trial.
For what it’s worth, it was worth all the while.
It’s something unpredictable, but in the end it’s right,
I hope you had the time of your life….”


Green Day
Good Riddance (The Time Of Your Life)

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Know what I miss?

Motorcycle cops. They just don’t exist anymore, do they? They’d pull up next to you at a stoplight and then they would look to the right or left and then give you one of those silent, almost imperceptible nods as if to say, “Hey. What’s goin’ on, man?”…..from behind mirrored sunglasses and from behind a mustache. I miss that.

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Now, our police are militarized. They drive tanks and Humvees. They need them to carry stun guns and AR-15s and that kinda shit…..They’re not as personable when they drive those. They still look to the right and to the left,…it’s just that,…umm,…you don’t.

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Know what I miss?

Carburetors. That finely designed and fragile fuel-injection artifact that could take all sorts of heavy-duty abuse. Nothing could be better on a frigid winter morning than to walk out of your house with a freakin’ can of ether in one hand and a freakin’ “Goody” comb in the other. You pop the hood to your Chevelle, take off the BIG, ROUND AIR CLEANER, pop that rocker back and spray that ether into your carb. You stick the ass end of the “Goody” comb in to hold the rocker in place, jump into your car and fire it up, replace the air filter and you’re on your way, baby. (This action, btw, would take 15 seconds.)

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Now, we have the E-checks. There’s a computer in your car that you are REGULATED to have checked (at certain intervals) to see if there is any hi-jinks going on in the car when the EPA isn’t looking. This organization’s sole purpose is to be a watch dog over your automobile. If they detect ether, you don’t get your stickers, Mister!! And you will pay a mechanic dearly as penance.

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Know what I miss? T.V’s (Television’s)”The Flying Nun”. Sally Field was so great as that tiny troublemaking nun that could fly when she lifted up her little nun,…habit,…hat…thing. I miss that. She would be shooting marbles with dirty little orphans and, at a moment’s notice, she would be flying through mountains to get to the scene of some untowardly actions so she can single-handedly take down a Peruvian drug lord. I miss that. I miss “The Flying Nun”.

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Now we have The Little Kardashian Sisters Of The Poor doing sex on the internet with Vegas taking odds on how long one or two of the marriages would last along with battles in court to keep “The Flying Nun” off the air in re-runs because the atheists are supposedly “offended” by her presence on THEIR air waves.

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Know what I miss?

The Clash. The only band that mattered and who sweated onstage to make a living and a change. These guys played Bonds in NYC for two weeks straight because the promotor “oversold” all of the shows. They wanted to honor every last ticket sold so they stayed until every last fan was played to. (1982)

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Now we have Justin Bieber and Miley Cyrus “who just don’t like going to work”,….as said so very appropriately by Sir Paul McCartney. They were chastised by him! Chastised, I say! Chastised by Sir Paul himself!!

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Know what I miss?

I miss the days when you could actually buy vinyl. The art work on the album cover was always second to none. Hell, I miss the days when you could actually buy a cassette tape. Hell, I even miss the days when you could buy a CD!

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Now we have downloadable music that can’t be burned to a CD and can only be listened to on certain “devices” that you have to prove you own before you can do it.

Know what I miss?

Everything.

Anyway,…

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