A view of the world from a fine summer’s day in the park.
I was at the big park on the edge of town the last Saturday in July, manning a booth for a local non-profit among vendors at a car show for a veterans’ park fundraiser. Looking around at the crowd, it occurred to me how it was as if the scamdemic lockdowns and “social distancing” rules never happened four years ago. I was reminded of the ending of Albert Camus’ novel The Plague, in which everything goes back exactly the way it was before the first dead rat showed up. Except for the body count, it was as if nothing had happened.
I decided to play a game with the music the DJ was playing from his sound system under the pavilion. I counted all of five songs from the 21st century: “Happy” by Pharell Williams, “Hey Ya” by Outkast, “Mr. Brightside” by The Killers, and “Shake It Off” by Taylor Swift. The last one I didn’t recognize, I just knew it wasn’t from anywhere I knew of in the 20th.
I mentioned this to my fellow non-profiter in the booth. “Classic rock will never die,” he said. “Ever notice how there aren’t any disco channels on the radio?”
“Heh,” I said. “Good one.” Of course, terrestrial radio might as well be dead itself given that only older folks such as myself who can’t be bothered to hook their phone up to their car stereo listen. No doubt there are several flavors of disco—’70s disco, ‘80s dance pop, etc.—to choose from on the Internet.
I wondered about the age of the DJ. He looked young enough, but then I’m at that point in which people in their 40s look like newly minted adults to me. Maybe he was in his 40s. A child born in 1984 would have a clear memory of those radio stations of the mid-to late-1990s that were “playing classic rock from the ‘60s, the ‘70s, the ‘80s, and TODAY!” as the bumpers proclaimed. Heavens help us once the generation that grew up thinking emo and screamo bands were great start getting DJ rigs.
I doubt they’ll be playing car shows. The kind of boys who work on cars and who like classic cars (a dwindling lot, I expect) wouldn’t listen to wimp music. Classic A.M.-radio rock may yet stick around out of curious, unspoken tradition but if any other genre takes over for it, it would be heavy metal.
Again, I wonder how many years it would take before 20th century music disappears entirely from music playlists. I take some small comfort in knowing it’s still around and that I’ll be dead with the rest of my generation when it’s not. For now. It’s worth noting that we're nearly a quarter-way into the 21st century and the sounds you hear in most places come from the 20th. The songs for the ages now belong the ages. There will be no more.
Another matter to ponder is how long the truly classic pre-1974 cars are going to last are parts become harder and harder to come by. I expect most will be museum pieces that are barely ever run to idle, let along driven. It’s hard to get excited over a show full of modded-out early-2000s Subarus and Honda Civics. Perhaps future generations will get to see a 1957 Thunderbird and wonder why we stopped creating such beauty.
“When the world is running down/You make the best of what’s still around,” as the song goes. It’s A.D. 2024. I’ve got food in my belly and a roof over my head. The best music of the ages plays on a brilliant summer’s day (it helps they’re giving the chemtrail dusting a rest today), the hollyhocks are in full bloom, and we’ve got a row of potatoes growing alongside our garage.
My world is ruled by the children of lies and murder but my Lord saw fit to get me out of the city and where food is grown and raised. Most importantly, he got my wife and I into a church. In a world full of violence and unspeakable evils—most of which I’d have no idea about if I didn’t have Internet—I have been blessed with a good life. How long it lasts I do not know. All I know is I don’t care who’s picked for the vice presidency of anything. The elections won’t affect me. I’ve got God, and I live in the country. We’ll be fine until we’re not. And even then, God still wins.
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