The Future Is In All Of Us
The Max Yellow line is a light rail that travels between North Portland and downtown. I ride it north to get home. Tonight I boarded in downtown and the first thing I hear is a loud, clownish voice say "You never heard of a band called Sweet?" I turned to see the man posing the question.
He appeared to be in his 60s and was wearing a black leather jacket above black sweat pants and black sneakers. His t-shirt had a picture of the back of a hand holding up two fingers surrounded by the words STIFF LITTLE FINGERS. The man was bald on top, but down past his shoulders fell curly and greying hair. "Can't believe nobody heard of a band called sweet. They rock!"
He was addressing another man, who oddly, was responding without any sarcasm. "No, no can't say I have. I'll look them up."
The man in the STIFF LITTLE FINGERS shirt mused out loud a few more times about how nobody on the train had heard of a band called Sweet, but then he started asking about other bands. "I bet you never heard of a band called Big Star... I bet you never heard of a band called Angry Samoans... I bet you never heard of a band called D.O.A."
"You heard of Megadeth though. You heard of Led Zeppelin. You heard of Maiden." The man he was addressing affirmed that he had indeed.
"I bet you never heard of a band called Loudness though. That's the kind of band I want to be in before it's all over yeah."
The man in the STIFF LITTLE FINGERS shirt became confused about what stop he needed, and the man he was addressing tried to help him. They figured out it was Rosa Parks Blvd. My stop.
When we got off the train I walked behind the man. He turned to the train as it departed. "I need to get a 6-string bass. Like this..." and he played air bass at the windows of the departing train, the passengers looking down at him without any idea who Sweet was.
He appeared to be in his 60s and was wearing a black leather jacket above black sweat pants and black sneakers. His t-shirt had a picture of the back of a hand holding up two fingers surrounded by the words STIFF LITTLE FINGERS. The man was bald on top, but down past his shoulders fell curly and greying hair. "Can't believe nobody heard of a band called sweet. They rock!"
He was addressing another man, who oddly, was responding without any sarcasm. "No, no can't say I have. I'll look them up."
The man in the STIFF LITTLE FINGERS shirt mused out loud a few more times about how nobody on the train had heard of a band called Sweet, but then he started asking about other bands. "I bet you never heard of a band called Big Star... I bet you never heard of a band called Angry Samoans... I bet you never heard of a band called D.O.A."
"You heard of Megadeth though. You heard of Led Zeppelin. You heard of Maiden." The man he was addressing affirmed that he had indeed.
"I bet you never heard of a band called Loudness though. That's the kind of band I want to be in before it's all over yeah."
The man in the STIFF LITTLE FINGERS shirt became confused about what stop he needed, and the man he was addressing tried to help him. They figured out it was Rosa Parks Blvd. My stop.
When we got off the train I walked behind the man. He turned to the train as it departed. "I need to get a 6-string bass. Like this..." and he played air bass at the windows of the departing train, the passengers looking down at him without any idea who Sweet was.
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