Up Against the Wall and Spread ‘Em

I’d like to talk to you today about something that has, like my own behind, spread to accommodate the space it’s been allotted.

Ugliness.

In public.

Bearing in mind that there are several kinds of ugliness – up to and including, I suppose, complaining about ugliness! – I’d like to narrow the parameters, if you will, to the man on the bus this morning.

Judging from his attire, he was on his way to Woodstock.

Judging from his age, he may have attended the first one.

Don’t get me wrong. As a child of the 60s myself, I am not only referred to, by The Boy – with love, of course! – as “The Dirty Hippie” during one of many possible “Brotherhood of Man” spiels, but I also have much of the music of the era on my iPod.

I love hippies! I once dated hippie! My parents were hippies!

Wait. No, they weren’t.

But 1969 it’s not; and if you are still wearing what you wore in high school – only in a bigger size – then I’m going to write it down in my notebook.

Where, no doubt, someone else observes I’m writing on the bus in what appears to be a diary… Perception! So tricky. I really must be kinder…

Where was I?

Look. I know I shouldn’t judge based on physical appearance, but dude! If you wore it the first time it was in fashion, you probably shouldn’t be wearing it 40 years later.

I mean, sure you’ve got a lot of hair! Only your hairline starts at your ears. You’ll have to trust me when I tell you it doesn’t look as good as you think it does.

And the concert t-shirt stretched over your beer belly! Big KISS fan I take it.

The bandana tied around your thigh shows your playful, I-Party-Like-Aerosmith side.

And to me, the eyeliner denotes the fact that you're man enough to wear make-up.

The bleached jeans tucked into your combat boots indicate that you are ready to rumble.

I can dig it: You’re a rocker. Good for you.

But then you sat down next to that poor girl. Were you really asking her out? Did you not see how uncomfortable she was? Put yourself in her tiny little unscuffed shoes – you are in all probability older than her father and yet it was clear that you were flirting with her.

You may not have ever been a teenage girl, but I was, so believe me when I tell you: a man this close to 50 who says things like “we should get together and listen to some tunes” is horrifying!

What? Well, sure she smiled at you! It was her only defense! Did you see her get off the bus and throw away the number you insisted on writing down? Don’t you remember being that young? Don’t you recall thinking that even 30, for cryin’ out loud, was old?

For the record, 30 is not old. And neither is 40. And as I get ever closer to it, neither is 50…

Where was I?

Oh, yes. Ugly. Ugly clothes, and uglier behavior. I’m making a citizen’s arrest.

The charge?

WPU: Willful Public Ugliness.

I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to come with me.

And no. I don't want to go back to your place and listen to some records.