A Day of Realizations

It's a day of realizations for me. Here's me right now realizing I'm 10+ years late on a particular Irish band's album.

ME: Hey you like U2? I just heard that Zooroopa album. Man they got like a brand new sound on that one.

OTHER PERSON: (walks away).

REALIZATION: It's March! Are you ready for Maaaaaaaaaaarch MADNESS!?! Actually I'm not. I'm not interested at all. Why is it whenever March Madness is talked about it's always being screamed about? On television, in conversation, even when I read it in print the voice I hear in my head is the Headmaster of the New York School for the Hard of Hearing Garret Morris cupping his hands around his mouth and yelling "ARE YOU READY FOR MARCH MADNESS!!!". Or I'm tied to a tree and some guy is standing 15 feet away on a pitcher's mound with a bucket full of magazines and each page in the magazine has the same 5 words typed in it over and over again: Are You Ready For March Madness!!! Jack Torrance stands there and just whips those magazines at me with his best Mitch Williams style fastball.

REALIZATION: I tried an experiment at home with surprising results. I watched Memento while listening to Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon and my weed exploded.

REALIZATION: I need new headshots. Apparently the one below is being deemed as "inappropriate and unacceptable":

I'd buy a McRib off that guy.

REALIZATION: I'm in Milwaukee, WI right now. Sitting in a coffee shop. I'm looking out the window seeing the avenue and realizing that I'm surrounded by Milwaukee hipsters. Coincidentally, I live in Logan Square on Milwaukee Avenue where I am also surrounded by hipsters. What does this mean? Hipsters love me.

ME: Can I talk about hipsters for a second?
OTHER PERSON: (walks away).
ME: Alright well what about people who complain about hipsters?

I hate people who complain about hipsters and here's why. You don’t hate hipsters. you hate what they remind you of, you son! "You know what it is bro? I hate their skinny jeans, their horn rimmed glasses, t-shirts, and their music"---oh quit crying already you 33 year old grandma! I hate to blow up your revisionist history bubble but our Navajo plaid hoodies, pulled down ball caps, ski goggles, Doc Martens and size 38 denim Girbuads weren’t lighting the world on fire. There should be one day of the year where we’re all forced to wear what we wore in high school for one day. We’ll call it Whoopsie Day! I’ll go first. I’ll have a pair of shiny leather black shoes with silver steel plated rimmed toes, purple red and orange multicolored overall shorts, (one shoulder unhooked) and a navy blue denim long sleeve shirt. I look like Theo Huxtable and an In Living Color Fly Girl had a baby in the back of an Oaktree. The only thing we have hipsters beat on is music. 90’s hip hop is our generations 70’s rock. It’s gonna live on forever. We’re gonna be old men in our 70’s and someone is gonna play Tribe's "Scenario" at the old folks home and half of us still are gonna have the strength to throw our canes in the air and yell:

“Rowr Rowr like a dungeon dragon.
Change ya’ lil draws cause your pants are saggin!!"

Don’t hate hipsters. Accept the fact that you’re getting old and you’re just not that relevant anymore. It’s okay. Turn up that Pharcyde album, let's smoke some weed while we watch Reservoir Dogs and yes yes yes you were never a hipster. Why would I ever think that.
And hipsters? Real quick. Do me a favor. Smile every once in a fucking while will you? It's okay. Whatever is going on trust me, it's gonna be okay. I like to walk around the boulevard with my dog and when we smile at you don't look at us like we just asked you for the fucking rent.

FINAL REALIZATION: I can't just mention Tribe's "Scenario" and then not have it readily available for enjoyment. Everything should always end with "Scenario". Parties, work days, this blog.