All Hail The Queen

Today marks my first daughter's birthday. Presley died 3 days after she was born. He had to make way for her. The world couldn't continue to spin with both of them in it. So be it: Adios, loser!

When she was little, she was bald & beautiful. Then her hair grew in, and she continued to be beautiful. I never talked to her with that "eechi-weechi-koochi-koo" shit, and maybe that's why she never needed a diction or elocution coach.

At different stages in her life she did things I didn't understand, and while it would occasionally mess my head up, it was a valid part of life & that's kinda the way it should be. If you can read through this statement, kids should discard everything their parents do & parents should in turn hate whatever their kids embrace. Like I said, see through the cultural meaning of that statement.

There were more differences between my prior generation & me than hers & mine. Imagine life with no rock & roll or tv; sex & drugs & gay life were taboo & kept hidden in the dark crevices of life; no one paid attention to women unless they were stripping; no shopping on Sunday; no meat on Friday; no VIP sections at clubs. And all phones had cords, although phone booths apparently were a youth culture oasis.

When she was born I was in the throws of nascent Punk culture. I mean, I had a job & all that, but if stuff wasn't Punk-oriented, I didn't want to know. 1977 was year zero for Punk. I had a friend cut my hair short - SHORT - and she was dumb-founded. "You don't want it styled?" No, just CHOP THE SHIT OFF! And I remember The Clash playing on the stereo - repeatedly, since at the time all they had was one UK single. I tossed all my flairs and bell bottoms. It wasn't easy finding any other kindsa pants. But you could get straight leg jeans at Kmart, for the farmers, I guess. I actively sought out all Punk music. No one knew about any of it. Some things never change. I bought my first Punk records by mail order from New York. They arrived addressed to "occupant" - how blank-generation!

I wondered what would happen after I had kids. You certainly go through changes; you have to think differently about some things, but I was still the same person I was in most ways. And to this day, I still am. I remember back when I was single, taking my niece to the Thanksgiving Day parade, and getting her back a bit later than expected. My sister & brother-in-law were furious. They always thought I was an irresponsible hippie. "Wait till you have kids", my brother-in-law said as I walked out of their house. "not like you, motherf#%ker", I remember thinking. And I never was.

Somewhere there exists a cassette tape of me teaching my daughter how to say "rastafar-i" and "are we not men? we are devo!" She was maybe two.

So now my daughter is older than I was when she was born. And despite creaking bones and such, I'd like to think I'm the same as I was back then. I wish she could've experienced some things I did that don't exist anymore. Just like my mother might've, I guess. It's a tough world nowadays, mostly because of money and jobs. You gotta be strong. And that's certainly what my daughter is.

After all, she brought about the death of Elvis.