tagged--18 and...

dj kirby tagged me with a musically-inlcined tag this time around. i'm sposed to travel back in time to when i was 18, wax nostalgic about the music i listened to, and tell you all about it. this oughtta be lots of fun:

the university. it was my first time out from under the oppressive thumb of my uber-conservative dad and stepmom, and by god, i was going to enjoy it. i grew my hair out and ratted it into a snarl a la robert smith, of the cure (and frequently wore the white base, black eyeliner, and garish red lipstick to complete the ensemble), dressed in nothing but black nearly every day (shit, i still do that a bit), and wished i was dead 90% of the time.

i wanted to be different. i wanted to be the same. i wanted to be liked. i wanted to be despised. i desperately wanted to date as many girls as i could (in high school, due mostly to the aforementioned looney folks, i had had one, and only one, official date), but i didn't want to belong to the mainstream. so i did what any 18-year-old does when he wants to be a noncomformist: i conformed to the popular subculture (hahahaha, we all think we are so fucking cool, that we are doing something that has never been done, that we are proving our independance, when in reality, we just pick option "b", buy the appropriate uniform (with one or two "personal" twists), and hang out with people exactly like us.

so you, o beloved non-existant readers, will hopefully forgive me if my list of songs isn't familiar to any of you. i will also point out that the bands/songs i list here are all songs i still listen to today. these are not the songs of a fleeting moment, these are songs that affected my life.

the very first song that came to my mind when i read what was expected of me this time around, was dear god, by midge ure. this song is actually quite like a soft pop song, building in intensity towards the end, with expansive and epic feel. a beautiful song, i recommend it for anyone. the former lead singer of ultravox takes on spirituality vs. humanity. and don't worry, the god of the title isn't being railed against, if you listen close, we as humans are: we had it all, and we threw it all away/give me, love for the lonely/give me, food for the hungry/give me, peace in a restless world.

so this would fall at the top of my list, and i recommend everyone check it out, i think it will be a crowd-pleaser.

as for the rest of the list, well, take your chances, heh heh.

i fell asleep listening to skinny puppy once (the album cleanse, fold, and manipulate), and had horrible and strange nightmares and woke feeling anxious and paranoid. i still love old skinny puppy, but make a habit of not sleeping to their music.

anything by bauhaus, but especially all we ever wanted was everything, it's a simple song, but something about it fit my general mood of "what's the fucking point?" that i had at 18.

the cure, obviously. a night like this was a good one, i was "coming to find" her if it took me all night, i thought, hahaha. also, inbetween days, which is sort of a break-up song, but with surprisingly upbeat music. odd, i was listening to that kind of stuff the other day and posted about it, hmmmm.... a running theme, maybe?

joy division. ah, one cannot begin to capture how connected i felt to joy division. the lead singer had killed himself after they had been a band maybe 2 or 3 years (the rest of the band went on to become new order), and their songs were mostly dark, and brooding. i loved it. i love it still.

a plethera of punk bands: the clash, sex pistols, minor threat, 7 seconds, the exploited, dead kennedys, et al.

and finally, and to keep this semi simple (too late), the smiths and morrissey. morrissey has never written a happy song in his life. and while i find some of it a bit whiney now, i really felt that morrissey "got" me at the time, new the pain i was going through (it's called "teen-angst" ya dippy, and nearly everyone goes through it, god i was a pain in the ass to be around at 18!).

as far as who to tag with this, i will have to get back to you on that, as i have to get ready to take the kids to their therapy.

getting to know you...

it seems, as a result of some uncontrolled commenting i did on sparx's blog (yes, yes, i will get it added. if not here in the next few, then today for sure), new people are swinging by this small grain of sand on the beach that is the world wide web.

and since i have been doing this for some time, and got most of the "getting to know darth" stuff out of the way in the first year, i feel it might be time to do a recap for the new readers:

i am a huge bucket of conradictions (as if stating this in my "about me" isn't nearly enough.) i am alternately gloomy and joyful. i love life, despise it, hate it, embrace it, look forward to each day with anticipation, dread, and childlike glee. i piss and moan about my life on occasion, all the while completely cognizant of how good i have it.

i am a smartass. duh.

the title "not even star-crossed, just unlucky" is a line from the codiene song, cigarette machine. it is, in my opinion, one of the most clever lines in a song i have ever heard.

i play the bass, the guitar, the drums, and even a bit of keyboards, and make failed attempts to sing. i do it in that order, heh heh. i hope to soon have a music myspace to abuse at least as much as i abuse this blog.

i am a stay-home father for my(our) two children, both boys, that i call nos. 1 and 2 within the confines of this blog, for the sake of their privacy, such as it is, since i elaborate on embarrassing details of their potty-training, therapy, and whatever else.

both of my kids were born early, and as a result, are behind somewhat developmentally. no. 1 is a little delayed in speech, and no. 2 is behind in general. this does NOT mean they are dumb or slow in any kind of way, and i resent it enough to nearly come to blows when people i don't know insinuate that they are based on a quick observation at the park, pool, or in line at the supermarket.

i am: a dork. a punk. a motherfucker. a lazy bastard. a crackah (hahahahaha, or poor white trash that has clawed its way up from the depths, but it still comes out sometimes--you can take the boy out of the trailer, but not the trailer out of the boy.) a fiercely loyal friend who will drop you like hot dogshit if you fuck me over (life is too short to waste on people who don't treat you like you treat them.) a star wars fan (again, duh.) a son. a husband. a father. a pervert (shocking, i know, to discover that a stay-home dad, is still, after all is said and done, a male homo sapien.) a lover. a fighter. a filthy-mouthed intellectual who loves language in it's many and varied forms, from the most refined and educated, right down to the gutter. i do not give a shit what 99.9% of people think about me.

i believe everyone is right. i believe everyone is fucked-up. i believe that we have the god-given right to be both right and fucked-up at the same time, and to shout it loudly from the rooftops. i don't believe "shouting it loudly from the rooftops" means the same thing as "cram it down people's throats."

unfortunately, i also believe that this gives me the right to make fun of you and yours, just as you might do me were you so inclined.

i usually laugh at most of what i find someone has said derrogatorily about me. i am my biggest critic, i also have a sense of humor, which means i can laugh at the stupid shite i do. but, being a bucket of contadictions, i am also amazed to find out the idiotic things i do on a daily basis are being done by people all over the world.

i am a writer that completely embraces both "author intrusion" and "stream-of-conscious."

i am not sure if the periods are actually supposed to go inside either the parentheses or the quotations in most of what i have written in this post. i am also not worried about it; if i ever publish anything (which seems unlikely) most companies hire editors, and i am sure that guy will set me straight. in no uncertain terms, no doubt. and probably at top volume.

i am darth sardonic, welcome to my blog.

and if you don't like anything you have read here, there's the door and you can piss right off.

i can't believe...

so i was watching slc punk this morning while the kids were at school, that m was kind enough to loan me so i could burn it, and it is putting me in a weird mood.

i got to thinking about alot of things while i watched it: being a punk, utah, what i wanted, and still want, to do with my life, friends, family.

i became a punk not to rebel against anything, or buck the system, like stevo, but because the punks accepted me for who i was, exactly as i was. there was an intensity and familial closeness and, most importantly, an acceptance there that i had been missing.

while watching, i got a call from the school, and no. 1 is having a bad day. having trouble listening, pouting, chewing on his shirt. and i felt sad. cause clearly no. 1 is feeling the stress of my wife's impending deployment that we ourselves aren't even aware we are feeling.

"i'll have a talk with him when he gets home." i tell the teacher.

still watching the movie and thinking about things, and planning the big talk i need to have with my son, cause these are the things we do. regardless of what i was, or what i hoped to accomplish when i was, myself, a punk/goth in utah back in the 80's, today i am a dad.

and part of being a dad is helping your kids adjust, and overcome. and i think some more.

i think, i had no clue back then who i really was. i was on the precipice of discovering myself. and the punks and being a punk probably helped alot in that discovery.

i cycle between watching the movie, remembering and being nostalgic for those long-ago days, and planning what i should say to my son.

as i do all this, it occurs to me again that i really don't want to go back to those times, or any others in my life.

i am happy, right here, right now.

sure, there are some things i would love to change. i would love to be more toned, and less tubby. i'd love to have our bills paid off. i'd love my knee to quit aching all the time.

but my happiness is not based on any of these things. i was fucking miserable when i was 18 and a punk and in utah. mainly, because i didn't know who i was, and what i wanted for myself.

and i watch stevo fight this same battle with himself via the advance of technology and some clever creativity on the part of writers and cameramen. and i am glad i am past it.

then the bus pulls up, and i cut the movie short (which is good, cause the part with heroin bob at the end always makes me cry--cause, ultimately, i am silly), and i pull no. 1 aside, and in light of the weird emotional morning i suddenly find myself having, the only things i feel i need to say to him are:

"you know i love you, buddy? and mommy loves you? and that i am always proud of you, no matter what?"

cause, quite suddenly, all the rest of the things i was going to say just weren't important.

the only thing that mattered suddenly was that he knew he is loved, and that i am always proud of him, even when it feels like he is fucking up.

darth sardonic