Tantrum Warehouse
Tact Free Since 2003

Sell Outs

I had to break some hard news to the husband this weekend.

We were discussing having a baby (I know, alert the media) and he said he wanted a little punk rock baby. And I had to tell him that I didn't think we could have a little punk rock baby. Not because I love the baby Gap (though I do) and not because every name I like for the kid sounds like the last name of some snotty ass British person (though they do).

But because we are not punk rock.

Now he was punk rock. Been on his own since he was a kid. Lived in a punk rock house. Smoked too many drugs. Drank too much. Has many scars from skate boarding. Knows many many people who are in bands that would never sell out. Ran heroin with his mother for crying out loud. Had a mohawk long before and long after it could ever be considered cool.

He still has friends like that. We saw them in California. I felt like I was at the Smithsonian looking at an exhibit.

I was never punk rock. My dad is an accountant. I think you cannot possibly be punk rock if your dad is an accountant. I mean I had my moments. My first concert was Nirvana, at a hole in the wall club before Nevermind came out. I was thirteen with my fake id. I had purple hair to match my prom dress. I had a tattoo and a tongue ring--though to be fair by the time I took the tongue ring out that was a little Mall Rat for me.

But mainly I was alternative. The black sheep of a nice middle class family. I was a massage therapist and worked in non-profits. I wore clogs and had long hair and talked about chakrahs. I didn't drink caffeine and drank too much red wine.

Now I work for a major fashion retailer. I wear high heels and pay too much for a haircut. I buy my makeup at the MAC counter. I WEAR MAKEUP. I eat fast food. Drink Coke. Own all leather shoes and handbags. I live in a suburban neighborhood. I drive an SUV, which is really an overgrown station wagon and is the biggest mom mobile out there really. Once, I got really excited because I found the Dwight Yokum version of "I Want You to Want Me" by Cheap Trick. I like to get pedicures and watch home remodel shows on HGTV. I got really excited when one of our shoes from work was featured on "the Look for Less."

I am so not punk rock.

And I took Mr. Anyabeth with me. He has a car that was made in Korea ya'll. And this weekend he really wanted to look at bedroom sets. And he also told me that it is ok if we have a girl because he figured out that Yankees jerseys now come in pink.

He isn't punk rock either.

Don't tell anyone.

7:34 p.m. :: comment ::
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