A pretty good little film, but it was all about shit just before my time. I graduated high school in ’88 and the film pretty much wraps it up around ’85-’86 calling “punk dead” and the like. Shit was still going off in ’87 if you ask me. Hell, it still is. I gots to tell you, it may be different, but it’s far from dead.
And they sure did gloss over a whole bunch of shit, didn’t they? No real mention of the Dead Kennedy’s or the Misfits? People still buy there records and rock the logo. Twenty years out and the kids still dig ‘em. Talk about influential…
They barely made mention of the Cro-Mags and the bomb they dropped all over the east coast. Everything changed after them. All the Revelation bands, man, don’t even get me started… Maybe they’ll be an American Hardcore: Part Two that covers ’87 through ’91 when it got all metal and every flannel shirt wearing moron in Seattle got signed to a three record deal. Oh, the memories.
I’ve got a cup of coffee going and unread emails coming out of my ass. Seems I’ve been busy of late. What happened to this week? How is it Saturday again? And why hasn’t anyone raked up the pine needles in my lawn? Too much stuff going on I guess. Go figure.
I may even get out on a bike today. Yes, I’m really aiming to pedal some circles. I’ve been successfully riding my happy fat ass to work most days (all but one this week) and I feel pretty good about it. Fighting traffic in my stupid hippy redneck shitbag mountain town is a real bummer. I’d much rather just cruise through the side streets and feel the wind on my face.
So, today I’ll try to ride some. If I can just find a bike that works in the pile of shit I call a garage…
I haven’t posted much this week, just a few short ones. But there are plenty of tankhead drunks who can (and do) fire at will, splashing text all over the site. And thank god for ‘em, ’cause I’d be lost otherwise.
One of the best things I’ve read of late (and I’ve been reading a lot) is this little piece from Flick Lives.
This was Trent Klasna’s last year. He had been a professional since 1998 when he took up cycling to help straighten himself after a few troubled years of partying around the beaches of Southern California. One addiction for another. However good he may have been at rolling joints and drinking Bud pounders, he was much better at this bicycle racing thing. Almost immediately he rose through the ranks of amateur cycling and into a job with Saturn, the most dominant team in North America. In 2001 he was the US Time Trail Champion and the Overall Champion of the National Series. But then came a series of injuries, bad luck, and the demised of the big budget Team Saturn. When 2003 ended Klasna found himself a forgotten hero and out of work . Like I said, cycling doesn’t mourn its dead.
With a new house, newly married, and the hopes that he still had one more good year left in him, Klasna took up the 2004 season with the new and inexperienced Sierra Nevada Cycling Team. For the beer sponsored team, signing Klasna was a boon. His addition brought instant credibility to the team and with that came access to bigger races and some respect in the pecking order of the controlled chaos of the racing peloton. Klasna honored the contract with strong performances in early California races like the Redland Classic and Sea Otter at Laguna Secca. But once he started losing the benefit a mild California winter it started becoming apparent that Trent was no longer the champion who dominate the scene from 1999-2002. As April turned into summer Klasna was having trouble hanging in the field and was being left behind by riders who should have been asking for his autograph.
I’d show you the last three paragraphs of that bit of masterpiece theatre, but shit, that’d just ruin it for ya. Read the fucking thing. You’ll like it.
Where’d the time go? It’s already almost eight… I gots to post this and sort out my daughter. Just call me Mister Mom.
Today’s link dump, have at it:by