In the early 1970s men were iron bars wrapped in leather,
smelling of hair oil, sun-sweat, adrenalin, yellow road dust,
testosterone and smug self-assurance, never revealing any
hesitation or doubt. They tilted down into the gaping maws
of hungry car engines parked in hot carports, dropping
clattering wrenches, bloodying knuckles and cursing.
It would never occur to them to read a novel or buy or
play a record; and anyway, all the records in those days
were already dusty and scratched. There was no discussion
of sexism in a Tammy Wynette song, and if they liked
Charlie Rich, which they all did, they never let on why.
Now I can't tell you that I want those days to ever
come back to us. I'd still despise the cussed conservatism
that I spurned and wordlessly rejected then. But I wish
sometimes I could talk to my father and his father,
not to argue, but just to hear their voices again.
Well, I was born in 1989, on another continent, in a totally different political state(well, on the verge of two political states to be precise), so no, I never saw the picture you describe but it's very evocative. I can definitely smell the nostalgia here.(literally). You describe the sexism and the vulgar, brusque mentality with an unbiased tone that is itself gracious. I don't miss those men, but I do wish I were born back then. The music was so much better.
ReplyDelete"sometimes I could talk to my father and his father,
not to argue, but just to hear their voices again."- a great emotional ending, surprising and innovative. There is a lot bad to say about the old friends, times and the family long passed away- but when time kicks in, the flaws seem to disappear and through that rend in the fog we seem to see some goodness. The folly of this world never ceases to amaze.
Louis, we're the same age!
ReplyDelete"Smelling of yellow road dust." The imagery here is stunning - your inclusion of olfactory sensations in this piece really made it come alive.
"But I wish sometimes I could talk to my father and his father, not to argue, but just to hear their voices again." Good Heavens. This ending is absolutely tragic (in a good way) - the pain and sorrow here is so mocing. :D
moving *
ReplyDeleteit is not sexism; that's a political point of view grafted on after the fact. we're ratisms lost in mazisms. free your mind.
ReplyDelete