The 90's
Being born in the late seventies allowed an individual to peak in the 90’s. The acid was still good, marijuana had begun to become stronger, and methamphetamine were pure: the cocaine of the day. The best bands were doing heroin, rock n roll was still wholesome, the economy was flourishing, and there was no war to fight. The Gulf War was a display of might like no other; leading the United States to believe our defensives were so monumental that any nation who tested us would be crushed in less than a year. The baby boomers had beget generation X with the display of free love they spouted while doing drugs and fornicating in public places it felt as though the nation was on the right track.
It wasn’t until after the 90’s that the anxiety of the Gen Xers started to become understood by the public at large. Race relations were at a tipping point in the 90’s and the Gen Xers were starting to understand the plight of the African American Community through the production of rap music that most young Americans felt they could understand, and even relate to. The police state in which we lived was apparent, and the baby boomers who had once openly smoked dope, wildly sucking, and grinded on one another had become prudish Republicans.
The Keaton’s were not the normal family because the parents had not become prudes ready to outlaw any and every activity they did not approve. Some freaks stayed true to themselves and resisted the powers that be, but most had turned their backs on free love and equality in favor of oppression with the objective of controlling the masses for corporate gain. These corporations demanded loyalty from their harnessed hippies who were now slaves to the all mighty dollar and baby boomers obliged. For this Gen Xers were Raging Against the Machine trying to bring down the culture of corporate management for all Americans. However, for every Gen Xer who understood the plight there were three who were complacent and happy to bask in the spoils of the 90s.
The generation was angry that the baby boomers had let us down, and no one understood why it felt that way. It was the Gen Xers along with the Millennials who promoted LGBTQ rights, started legalizing a plant that had been previously used to control minorities, sending them to private prisons. It was the prisons that would produce slave labor for corporate sponsors. It was these generations that started to realize that to some Black Lives did not matter, and it was un-fucking-acceptable.
The dumbstruck baby boomers are still trying to ruin this nation. They turned into prudes becoming surprised that a president who was immersed in the free love society would allow a woman to blow him in the oval office who was not his wife, then they yelled lire, because well he lied. The best years America had seen in a very long time was produced by President Clinton. However, he was viewed as an evil man because his political standings were not right-wing enough. He was not far to the left though, Clinton was so far to the right in fact he has recently expressed his displeasure with himself. This is the conundrum of America; why do we feel it’s wrong to care for one another, in order to fulfill corporate interest for political gain? The capitalist society in which we live will chew you up and swallow your dreams to fulfill theirs. Don't ever forget that; lest ye be doomed!
Maybe the free love baby boomers just didn’t vote, or get involved in politics thus leading us to the nasty future we find ourselves today. The backlash to having a Black President is insane! We had an opportunity to have a more liberal Clinton than her husband, and she promised to bring jobs to the nation using the formula of the 90's. Providing prosperity and freedom from corporate bondage. A candidate with more experience and understanding of the governmental politics than our nation had seen possibly ever. But the backlash was nasty and our nation elected the worst, most unfit president ever.
Gen Xers and Millennials could not stop the nation of deplorable hillbillies, and swamp peoples from voting for Trump. This shouldn’t be surprising most blokes below the Mason Dixon Line have always wanted the nation to go backward. Hell, they would be happy killing off the Blacks, Muslims, and Jews. That is not blown out of proportion either, they won’t say it to a minorities face, but they’ll tell the another white person. Some of them will take offense to this; knowing it’s the truth.
Sprinkled in are true liberals outnumbered in every way, and many times ashamed to tell Uncle Billy how they really feel, because they are ostracized and shamed for expressing their real political stances. Metaphorically tared and feathered for believing in science, reading books, and watching any other news than fox. Breitbart News is the gospel and to be worshiped not unlike the imperial cult worship of Israel during Roman occupation. All the while the right wingers cry about how no one care about their feelings and racist wants. What the fuck is wrong with these people?
The scariest issue was the democratic strongholds that have turned their backs on the party in favor of outdated jobs that will never comeback because a liar made them a promise. Weed, that's where the new jobs are. Legalize it in all fifty states and watch the job creations flow, like F.D.R. himself is at the helm. The party that does this might not ever lose power in American politics.
Maybe, it’s not the generations at all that have screwed over this nation? The stupid have always been present, and vast among the others in society. Shit, the Baby Boomer freaks sure felt let down by the Silent Generation. Many rational baby boomers have expressed a feeling of pure nastiness due to their failed attempt at making America a better place than did their predecessors. Greed by those who Have, and the hope to someday have enough that greed will favor them encapsulates the America we see today. Everyone is either anointing themselves in milk and honey, or trying to lap up what has trickled down onto the floor like a starved cocker spaniel in a Sara Maglaughlin commercial. Make no bones about a truly rich man will kick a dog like that, and gouge out its one good eye for more milk and honey.
The acid was still good in the 90’s. No one had a fear of ingesting synthetic cannabinoids that has been sprayed onto blotter paper causing a reaction that not only produces psychedelic effects, but temporary insanity, and often a slow taneous death. These greedheads have pushed the dopers to poison themselves trying get a honest high without breaking the law, but sometimes the legal dope changes a person’s brain chemistry permanently to such an extent they go crazy and resort to cannibalism in the middle of the day. When these acts became common place, Colorado understood the only way to effectively combat this situation was to legalize real cannabis starting a free for all that stimulated their economy, and reduced the numbers of druggies; for good or ill.
What the hell has this rant become? Look at this popcorn ceiling; is that a letter? Falling toward our face and disappearing just before it melts into our brains. Holy shit! Do you see this?
Dave: Yea, man! Let’s spell it out.
Me: Good thinking.
Dave was an editorial assistant and he bought the acid earlier from a junky raving about the Asparagus Festival and how white blotters effects the plant in such a way that a person's entire life will be altered; although he thought three hits at one time was excessive. The point was to see things, get ripped to the tits, and get a deeper understanding of our lives as it relates to the asparagus. So we took the three hits into our mouths.
Did we forget to spell this damn thing out? We both yelled many letters at the top of our lungs for the better part of an hour, but forgot to write down any of the wisdom as it came to us. However, we had a deep understanding that our current realm of thoughtful knowledge provided us with a deep unshakable indulgence that we were wrong, that others were wrong, and none knew why. The 90’s after all was undoubtedly about everyone living off credit, and good drugs.
Me: Time to go! The cemetery will provide answers.
Dave: Let’s do it.
We climbed into his rented new Chevy S-10 pickup truck, cream colored, a very small confining space, really meant only for one person. The embodiment of the 90’s small, personal, and never meant to last. As we headed down the road Me Against the World blared on the radio, two twelve inch punch subwoofers, powered by a crunch 2,000 what amp providing maxim base and shook our brains to the beat. I knew putting these speakers on the corporate credit account at Best Buy was a good idea, and Dave understood now as well. I bet he felt stupid for arguing it being wasteful earlier in the day. Some things just feel right.
The road quickly became brick like that of the Wizard of Oz, but black and ominous. When it gridlocked, and rose 6 foot high in places, becoming impossible to navigate we abandoned the truck in favor of walking. However, it became obvious the ground was made of jelly, and if we didn’t get back in the truck we might get sucked into the earth without notice at any time.
We proceeded to get back into the truck, and both smoked a Marlboro Light to get a grip on things. I lit up a joint of some good weed after this incident. Not the dirt weed, or homegrown crap our parents smoked, but hydroponic high class weed. So sticky it can’t be put into a joint, the only option is to use a bowl.
Driving around in California with a bowl of weed, and high on acid isn’t for everyone, but it was acceptable for us. Young professional adults dressed in khaki shorts, polo shirts, Sperry topsiders, and sporting Saint Louis Cardinals baseball caps can get away with almost anything. We weren’t obvious minorities, goth, punk, or freaks on the outside. Its best to keep your demons hidden if possible; Jesus I’m advocating using privilege.
Privilege is so ingrained in white culture most red blooded pale Americans don’t even know they are spewing it from every orifice. The difference between the white druggy and the minority druggy in prison is easy to see. The white druggy probably got a pass for being young first of all because “everyone did it at that age” unless you're a minority and then the white man feels an internal need to punish the slave for breaking the rules or they will get unruly. When the white man is in a bind they can weasel out of another offense by dressing right, being polite, and not looking to fucked up for the thirty minute interaction; but the minority will have no such luck. Even minority police have act this way after all they were trained by hordes of white men, who are watching them, and evaluating their performance. On the third offense the minority is out, going to prison, learning a lesson, and the white man is getting their first charge.
Now that the dope has settled things down, and the peak of this acid is fully comprehended we can go get some dinner. The truck is driving normally and the road is behaving now. Lumberjacks Restaurant was our destination because we knew the owner wouldn’t mind serving us breakfast at 9:30 at night, and the orange juice would increase our peak, at least that’s what the old-timers told us. Upon pulling up to the restaurant the image of a giant man holding an ax somehow made me feel comfortable, and warm; protected from the outside trying to ruin things. However, these damn rocks kept shooting out of the side of the building making it hard to avoid them as we undertook the maze jumping randomly to avoid the rocks so not to get knocked down. Thank god there isn’t any popcorn ceilings here this might be an unbearable situation in that case.
The waiter looked puzzled as we laughed hysterically in his general direction. The man’s face was just funny in an unexplainable way. It was normal, and on this much acid that was the weirdest thing of all. After getting a grip on ourselves we ordered, and Dave started looking wildly around the room, he was mumbling about dopers and bikers causing a nervousness throughout the building.
After eating we took to the streets walking until we came upon a tall white tower with four spikes shooting into space, the door was locked so we utilized a window to make our way inside. It was at the top of this tower we drank whisky, listened to the Jimi Hendrix Experience on our portable music device, while watching the sunrise over a rose garden that I understood everyone was connected, and that we should help each other in a blissful experience that changed my trajectory in the 90’s forever.
We were in my hometown to cover the Stockton, Asparagus Festival for a nationally syndicated magazine. Good thing we had four more hits to wake us up. Hopefully it would provide the burst of energy needed to get through the next day, or at least until the weird festival ends.
Until next time...
Ricardo Kemp