Tuesday, July 05, 2011

Johnny Rumble:
Skinhead, no boots

The electric shears took my hair down to less than a sixteenth of an inch today.  All the dead skin, shampoo build up, and plain ol' dirt fell off in chunks I'd rather not describe.  After nearly three inchs of hair growth, I'm a Skinhead again.

But I have no boots.  The Wal-mart brand I bought as a stand-by have given up, worn through in six months.  I miss them, boots.  The smells of the leather and ranky foot odor, the Dr. Sholls inserts, laces fifteen miles long, a tedious but loving process to fit them snug and happy to the feet and ankles and calves.  A good eight inch boot, with a steel toe.  Black leather, Combat boots.

So I walk around in my Guinness brand flippy flop thongers, and Converse All-Stars knock-offs, black, with formerly white trim.  These have holes too.  I don't roll my legs like I used too.

I'm still a skinhead, like I'm still a punk, like I'm still a child.

I've just been distilled to a mental rebellion of apathy,

Johnny Rumble

No comments:

Post a Comment