Posts Tagged ‘Holy Mother Church’

It’s a happy day in JimmyC land because a missive has arrived from my oldest friend, Hubartos vanDrehl, the Prince of Paonia…Colorado, that is.

If you’ll recall, when last we heard from vanDrehl (see June 18 blog), he was inveighing against Buttcrack Nation and other discomfitting societal situations. I invited vanDrehl to write another blog entry soon. But I guess when you’re the mystic of the mountains, time is irrelevant. And, besides, in vanDrehl’s mysterious realm perhaps six weeks qualifies as soon.

At any rate, yesterday’s entry about last Saturday’s Paul McCartney concert sparked vanDrehl’s creative juices, and here are his words of…well, I would like to say “wisdom,” but I’ll let you be the judge.   

P.S. Before we launch, I must make a correction. In the June 18 blog, I offered an incorrect pronunciation of vanDrehl’s name. Like I say, he’s my oldest friend, and sometimes you forget small things like that. For the record, it’s pronounced van-drell, as in Archie Bell and the Drells. (I need to tighten up, don’t you know?)    


My Dear JimmyC,

Interesting. Interesting that you would wax nostalgic about a pale 70s version of an over-produced and over-hyped quartet of charming 60s mop tops that is still being shoved down the throats of people not yet born when the Bee’uls roamed the earth.

Also interesting is that I distinctly remember your dazed, confused and offended feelings about that disheveled time in the Sixties when a lot of us spoiled, pampered and indulged Boomers were feeling frisky.

I think the Seventies were your decade of choice, after having escaped the suffocating clutches of our hometown in order to breathe and grow. Being overly nostalgic about our Catholic-Boys’ education and paltry social life would be like laughing and telling funny stories about service in an ugly war. Being angry about our terrorized upbringing under the thumb of Holy Mother Church is like being angry at an ancient Nazi death-camp guard on trial and life support.

The 60s and 70s died with Lennon in 1980, when he took a bullet for fame. You remember him? He was the best and brightest Bee’ul, with tons more brains and talent than Cutie-Pie Paul. I believe it was Satchel Paige who said, “Don’t look back, something might be gaining on you.”

We were born in 1946, the first of the Boomers, and we’ve been making them pay attention to, and pay for, our sins ever since. Having turned this country into a spiritually, culturally, creatively, morally and financially bankrupt wasteland that produces nothing, stands for nothing and consumes everything with the help of 60 years of television and other types of useless information that oozes from pixel-ated surfaces, the Boomers should repair to the barn. Had I been your date the other night for the “Tour Down Memory Lane,” I would have stayed in the bathroom like your long-ago candidate for date rape. You owe her a civil apology and a night on the town if you can find your walker.

Like the old song says, these are the good old days. And like the yogis say, be here now. Yes, these are the good old days, JimmyC. Have a good one on me: The tab’s actually being picked up by the next generation(s). Boomers ride free.

I Remain,

A Detached Observer Somewhere On the Western Slope of Colorado,

Hubartos vanDrehl

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