Lost in the Supermarket

a musical education in the early internet era

I first began listening to The Clash in high school. The internet was far past its infancy, but one could say it was an awkward teenager. It was the days before Youtube and Wikipedia and no one else I knew listened to old punk. If you even said “old punk,” kids thought you meant Green Day. It was a badge of pride if you even owned Dookie. These were the days of Blink 182 and Sum 41 and other quantified nouns. Sad times, indeed.

I had a boyband phase in kindergarten, younger than most. New Kids on the Block it was for me then. But most of the kids I grew up with continued to listen to pop music (cited as the culture), while others took to the post-grunge spectrum (cited as the counter to this culture… the alternative, if you will).

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But Some Things Never Change

Today I culled my Facebook list. Starting out with 332 friends I made myself a pledge that I would half that number. (I actually did one better and got down to 165. )

What a strange way to quantify your life.

I’ve been juggling the idea of writing a post about “growing up” for a couple of weeks now. “Growing up.” Bah. Whatever might that mean? I’ve started drafts in WordPress, made notes on foolscap, Post-its, diaries, and spent a lot of time thinking. It’s something the last couple of weeks have led me to feel is necessary to interpret into words. I know this simple necessity is how I process the abstract concepts I struggle to understand. Writing something out is how I get myself to identify all the random things floating through my head; structuring them into a coherent set of sentences and paragraphs is how I come to understand it. The more simple the problem, the more simple the written word; the more abstract, the more likely it is to be fiction.

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