Raised in the Era of Heroes and Cons
ACT I: HEROES AND CONS
This town sucks. I hate this place, I hate this house, I hate this state. I want to go back to Detroit, to the old house, back to my old room where I used to sleep when Mom and Dad weren't split up.
This country sucks. I mean, sure, Clinton was okay until the whole scandal deal came out. That was bad. But what are we doing, poking around in someone's personal life anyway? And then BUSH comes around. His dad was bad enough, but then he comes around and the whole country goes to shit. Wars here and there, over the stupidest things --oil? Really?-- sending our whole economy into the crapper. Even though it's 2011 I'm still afraid to take the car out for a joy ride because it'll cost a fortune to fill the tank up again.
I always knew a Texan would be the one to fuck everything up.
At least now Obama's trying to fix everything Bush fucked up. Getting the economy back up, all that. Plus he's black.
That's just cool.
School sucks. The homework makes sure that I never have time to do anything fun (and I'm not saying that homework is difficult, I'm saying that there's a whole fucking lot of it, and despite how much I hate it, I do it to the best of my ability out of the sheer want of an ego boost every time I see an A+ on a paper or test), and I'm the youngest person in my grade, yet the most mature somehow. Even when my friends and I are out smoking and goofing around, I'm the most collected.
I guess that's what I get from living with my dad practically all my life.
Speaking of my dad:
My dad sucks.
Do you know how hard it is to make friends when your dad is James fucking StClaire, top teenage psychiatrist in the fucking nation? You end up learning all these useless terms for things and how to tell the symptoms of mental disorders, so you're constantly telling your friends "Oh, you have PTSD" or "Hey, yeah, I knew you were bipolar, you don't have to tell me" and "That's some pretty severe OCD you got there." And it definitely doesn't help that at least half of your school (of the private persuasion) goes to see your father for their issues because their parents are RICHER THAN THOU and only expect to have the best of everything for their dumb-ass kids. They CONSTANTLY think that I know all these little things about how their minds work and that my dad told me So-and-so screwed this guy and Who-the-fuck-cares kills cats in his free time. Um, hello, there's this thing called DOCTOR-PATIENT CONFIDENTIALITY, so it would be illegal for my father to tell me anything about your personal life and freakish habits.
Like I would want to know about them anyway.
But still, it made sure that a lot of people managed to stay away from me at all costs. It's like I have some mutant strain of swine flue that could only be contracted by any sort of contact with me. I could be dying in the street and none of them would come help me.
Yay for being a social outcast because your dad is a therapist.
At least I only have two more years to graduate so I can get out of this shit hole. I know where I'm going to move (New York), I know what I'm going to take classes in (liberal arts and English). Though of course if the world ends next year like those crazy Mayans-or-whoever predicted, it's pretty pointless to have planned this out since freshman year.
At least it's the end of June. Schools been out for a week and a half and I haven't had to worry about homework or studying for the same amount of time. My days are spent sleeping. My nights are spent with my friends, rolling down hills, smoking, and being idiots in general.
Oh, and skinny dipping. We do a lot of that.
Which was why I was confused when someone called me at ass o'clock that Monday morning. My birthday was in four days. Isn't it a rule that you can't call someone at ass o'clock in the fucking morning during their birthday week? Is nothing holy?
I grabbed at the buzzing, plastic rectangle as my ring tone of Christian Elliot's voice screamed "DICKHEAD, FUCKFACE, COCK SMOKING, MOTHER FUCKING, ASSHOLE, DIRTY TWAT, WASTE OF SEMEN, I HOPE YOU DIE HEY!" at me. Finally I managed to put the damned thing to my ear and groan out a pissed off "What do you want?"
"Slow Down or Burn Up are playing in Sacramento on your birthday, you have to come with me and Audrey, we're planning a road trip."
I immediately sat up, wide awake at the mention of the Burn Ups. "You're kidding, right? You're shitting me!"
"I SHIT YOU NOT, THEY'RE PLAYING IN SACRAMENTO, YOU HAVE TO COME WITH US!"
"Okay, okay, okay, I'm going to go check with them therapist, then pack, then I'll be right over."
I hung up and practically shot downstairs.
"DAD!"
"ADDIE!"
I would've usually groaned and rolled my eyes at my father's childish behavior, but I was too excited to pull up any sort of sarcasm for him. I found him at the kitchen table, eating a bowl of Captain Crunch (MY Captain Crunch, that rat bastard) while looking over a file for one of his patients.
"What's got you up at this time in the morning? I never see you before five at night."
"Jessie just called-"
"Jessie the guy, Jessie the girl, or Jessie my patient?"
"Jessie the girl, not the point Dad-"
"Yes the point, Jessie my patient is somewhat dangerous and I don't want you hanging out with a boy named Jessie, that's just silly-"
"ANYWAY. Jessie, the girl, just called and told me that Slow Down or Burn Up is playing in Sacramento on my birthday-"
"They're really still touring? I mean, Tunny loved them, but I never thought-"
"So can I go?" I ignored the annoyance in his voice when he asked about them touring and another one of his many mentions of the mysterious Tunny, his "best friend." My theory was that Tunny wasn't real, but Dad's imaginary friend, developed from working amongst the crazies 10+ hours a day.
"Sacramento is three days away, Addie."
"I know, but Jessie and Audrey and I were going to make a road trip out of it and-"
"Who ever said that your mom or I didn't want to spent time with you that day?"
"Dad, I know-"
"Birthdays are family time, Addie."
"I know, Dad, please-"
"You're not going anywhere on your birthday with Jessie or Audrey."
"DAD THAT'S NOT FAIR-"
"You're not going with them. You know why?"
I could feel a lecture about family values coming on. He was getting that tone of voice that he had when he wanted to show that he wore the pants in our family with no question. Wonder-fucking-ful. "No. So please, Dad, illuminate me. Why?"
"Because I got us tickets for that show."
"Oh please, like you-Wait, you did WHAT!?"
"I know how much you like them, despite how old and decrepit they must be now --I mean, really, they're still on tour? They were on tour when I was your age-- and so I decided to treat you for this birthday seeing your mom got to throw you a big party last year without telling me."
"Wait, so you really are taking me to see the Burn Ups!?"
"Yeah, I am, go pack. We've got a three day drive ahead of us."
I made a quick dash to squeeze his windpipe and choke him to death in a hug then dashed upstairs. I packed shorts, pants, shirts, makeup, accessories, anything that might be a possibility to wear to the show. It took a while, trying to figure out what would look cute with what and then freaking about what shoes to take. Then I pulled on some jeans and a shirt, pulled my hair up, and went back downstairs.
I was pulling on my shoes by the door when Dad walked in from the garage.
"Jesus, how long doe sit take you to pack? We'll only be gone for a few days. I mean, I only took about twenty minutes this morning-"
"Does it matter? I'm ready now."
"You're such a girl."
"You're such a guy, despite the fact that you're my dad."
"What, just because I'm your dad means I'm not a guy anymore? What kind of flawed logic is that?"
"Whatever, let's just go."
"I call shotgun!"
"You're driving."
"Oh. Right."
This was going to be a long trip.
Born into Nixon I was raised in hell
A welfare child
Where the teamsters dwelled
THE LAST ONE BORN,
AND THE FIRST ONE TO RUN
My town was blind from refinery sun
MY GENERATION IS ZERO
I never made it
As a working class hero
21ST CENTURY BREAKDOWN
I once was lost but never was found
I think I am losing
What's left of MY MIND
To the 20TH CENTURY DEADLINE
I was made of POISON and BLOOD
Condemnation is what I understood
VIDEOGAMES OF THE TOWER'S FALL
HOMELAND SECURITY
...............COULD KILL US ALL
We are the Class of '13
Born in the Era of Humility
We are the desperate IN the DECLINE
Raised by the BASTARDS of 1969
MY NAME IS NO ONE
.............THE LONG LOST SON
BORN ON THE 4TH OF JULY
.............Raised in an era of heroes and cons
.............That left me for DEAD OR ALIVE
I am a Nation
.............A worker of PRIDE
My debt to the STATUS QUO
The scars on my hands
And the means to an end
Is all that I have to show
...............I SWALLOWED MY PRIDE
AND I CHOCKED ON MY FAITH
I've given my heart and my soul
I've broken my fingers
And LIED THROUGH MY TEETH
...............The pillar of DAMAGE CONTROL
I've been to the edge
............And I've thrown the bouquet
............Of flowers left over the grave
I sat in the waiting room
Wasting my time
And waiting for Judgement Day
I praise LIBERTY
THE "FREEDOM TO OBEY
............Is the song that strangles me
...........Don't cross the line
DREAM, AMERICA DREAM
...........I can't even sleep
From the light's early dawn
SCREAM, AMERICA SCREAM
..........Believe what you see
........................FROM HEROES AND CONS
This country sucks. I mean, sure, Clinton was okay until the whole scandal deal came out. That was bad. But what are we doing, poking around in someone's personal life anyway? And then BUSH comes around. His dad was bad enough, but then he comes around and the whole country goes to shit. Wars here and there, over the stupidest things --oil? Really?-- sending our whole economy into the crapper. Even though it's 2011 I'm still afraid to take the car out for a joy ride because it'll cost a fortune to fill the tank up again.
I always knew a Texan would be the one to fuck everything up.
At least now Obama's trying to fix everything Bush fucked up. Getting the economy back up, all that. Plus he's black.
That's just cool.
School sucks. The homework makes sure that I never have time to do anything fun (and I'm not saying that homework is difficult, I'm saying that there's a whole fucking lot of it, and despite how much I hate it, I do it to the best of my ability out of the sheer want of an ego boost every time I see an A+ on a paper or test), and I'm the youngest person in my grade, yet the most mature somehow. Even when my friends and I are out smoking and goofing around, I'm the most collected.
I guess that's what I get from living with my dad practically all my life.
Speaking of my dad:
My dad sucks.
Do you know how hard it is to make friends when your dad is James fucking StClaire, top teenage psychiatrist in the fucking nation? You end up learning all these useless terms for things and how to tell the symptoms of mental disorders, so you're constantly telling your friends "Oh, you have PTSD" or "Hey, yeah, I knew you were bipolar, you don't have to tell me" and "That's some pretty severe OCD you got there." And it definitely doesn't help that at least half of your school (of the private persuasion) goes to see your father for their issues because their parents are RICHER THAN THOU and only expect to have the best of everything for their dumb-ass kids. They CONSTANTLY think that I know all these little things about how their minds work and that my dad told me So-and-so screwed this guy and Who-the-fuck-cares kills cats in his free time. Um, hello, there's this thing called DOCTOR-PATIENT CONFIDENTIALITY, so it would be illegal for my father to tell me anything about your personal life and freakish habits.
Like I would want to know about them anyway.
But still, it made sure that a lot of people managed to stay away from me at all costs. It's like I have some mutant strain of swine flue that could only be contracted by any sort of contact with me. I could be dying in the street and none of them would come help me.
Yay for being a social outcast because your dad is a therapist.
At least I only have two more years to graduate so I can get out of this shit hole. I know where I'm going to move (New York), I know what I'm going to take classes in (liberal arts and English). Though of course if the world ends next year like those crazy Mayans-or-whoever predicted, it's pretty pointless to have planned this out since freshman year.
At least it's the end of June. Schools been out for a week and a half and I haven't had to worry about homework or studying for the same amount of time. My days are spent sleeping. My nights are spent with my friends, rolling down hills, smoking, and being idiots in general.
Oh, and skinny dipping. We do a lot of that.
Which was why I was confused when someone called me at ass o'clock that Monday morning. My birthday was in four days. Isn't it a rule that you can't call someone at ass o'clock in the fucking morning during their birthday week? Is nothing holy?
I grabbed at the buzzing, plastic rectangle as my ring tone of Christian Elliot's voice screamed "DICKHEAD, FUCKFACE, COCK SMOKING, MOTHER FUCKING, ASSHOLE, DIRTY TWAT, WASTE OF SEMEN, I HOPE YOU DIE HEY!" at me. Finally I managed to put the damned thing to my ear and groan out a pissed off "What do you want?"
"Slow Down or Burn Up are playing in Sacramento on your birthday, you have to come with me and Audrey, we're planning a road trip."
I immediately sat up, wide awake at the mention of the Burn Ups. "You're kidding, right? You're shitting me!"
"I SHIT YOU NOT, THEY'RE PLAYING IN SACRAMENTO, YOU HAVE TO COME WITH US!"
"Okay, okay, okay, I'm going to go check with them therapist, then pack, then I'll be right over."
I hung up and practically shot downstairs.
"DAD!"
"ADDIE!"
I would've usually groaned and rolled my eyes at my father's childish behavior, but I was too excited to pull up any sort of sarcasm for him. I found him at the kitchen table, eating a bowl of Captain Crunch (MY Captain Crunch, that rat bastard) while looking over a file for one of his patients.
"What's got you up at this time in the morning? I never see you before five at night."
"Jessie just called-"
"Jessie the guy, Jessie the girl, or Jessie my patient?"
"Jessie the girl, not the point Dad-"
"Yes the point, Jessie my patient is somewhat dangerous and I don't want you hanging out with a boy named Jessie, that's just silly-"
"ANYWAY. Jessie, the girl, just called and told me that Slow Down or Burn Up is playing in Sacramento on my birthday-"
"They're really still touring? I mean, Tunny loved them, but I never thought-"
"So can I go?" I ignored the annoyance in his voice when he asked about them touring and another one of his many mentions of the mysterious Tunny, his "best friend." My theory was that Tunny wasn't real, but Dad's imaginary friend, developed from working amongst the crazies 10+ hours a day.
"Sacramento is three days away, Addie."
"I know, but Jessie and Audrey and I were going to make a road trip out of it and-"
"Who ever said that your mom or I didn't want to spent time with you that day?"
"Dad, I know-"
"Birthdays are family time, Addie."
"I know, Dad, please-"
"You're not going anywhere on your birthday with Jessie or Audrey."
"DAD THAT'S NOT FAIR-"
"You're not going with them. You know why?"
I could feel a lecture about family values coming on. He was getting that tone of voice that he had when he wanted to show that he wore the pants in our family with no question. Wonder-fucking-ful. "No. So please, Dad, illuminate me. Why?"
"Because I got us tickets for that show."
"Oh please, like you-Wait, you did WHAT!?"
"I know how much you like them, despite how old and decrepit they must be now --I mean, really, they're still on tour? They were on tour when I was your age-- and so I decided to treat you for this birthday seeing your mom got to throw you a big party last year without telling me."
"Wait, so you really are taking me to see the Burn Ups!?"
"Yeah, I am, go pack. We've got a three day drive ahead of us."
I made a quick dash to squeeze his windpipe and choke him to death in a hug then dashed upstairs. I packed shorts, pants, shirts, makeup, accessories, anything that might be a possibility to wear to the show. It took a while, trying to figure out what would look cute with what and then freaking about what shoes to take. Then I pulled on some jeans and a shirt, pulled my hair up, and went back downstairs.
I was pulling on my shoes by the door when Dad walked in from the garage.
"Jesus, how long doe sit take you to pack? We'll only be gone for a few days. I mean, I only took about twenty minutes this morning-"
"Does it matter? I'm ready now."
"You're such a girl."
"You're such a guy, despite the fact that you're my dad."
"What, just because I'm your dad means I'm not a guy anymore? What kind of flawed logic is that?"
"Whatever, let's just go."
"I call shotgun!"
"You're driving."
"Oh. Right."
This was going to be a long trip.
Born into Nixon I was raised in hell
A welfare child
Where the teamsters dwelled
THE LAST ONE BORN,
AND THE FIRST ONE TO RUN
My town was blind from refinery sun
MY GENERATION IS ZERO
I never made it
As a working class hero
21ST CENTURY BREAKDOWN
I once was lost but never was found
I think I am losing
What's left of MY MIND
To the 20TH CENTURY DEADLINE
I was made of POISON and BLOOD
Condemnation is what I understood
VIDEOGAMES OF THE TOWER'S FALL
HOMELAND SECURITY
...............COULD KILL US ALL
We are the Class of '13
Born in the Era of Humility
We are the desperate IN the DECLINE
Raised by the BASTARDS of 1969
MY NAME IS NO ONE
.............THE LONG LOST SON
BORN ON THE 4TH OF JULY
.............Raised in an era of heroes and cons
.............That left me for DEAD OR ALIVE
I am a Nation
.............A worker of PRIDE
My debt to the STATUS QUO
The scars on my hands
And the means to an end
Is all that I have to show
...............I SWALLOWED MY PRIDE
AND I CHOCKED ON MY FAITH
I've given my heart and my soul
I've broken my fingers
And LIED THROUGH MY TEETH
...............The pillar of DAMAGE CONTROL
I've been to the edge
............And I've thrown the bouquet
............Of flowers left over the grave
I sat in the waiting room
Wasting my time
And waiting for Judgement Day
I praise LIBERTY
THE "FREEDOM TO OBEY
............Is the song that strangles me
...........Don't cross the line
DREAM, AMERICA DREAM
...........I can't even sleep
From the light's early dawn
SCREAM, AMERICA SCREAM
..........Believe what you see
........................FROM HEROES AND CONS