DRUNKBLOGGIN': The Make-Out Room

Every generation has a story.  Our grandparents remember where they were when Pearl Harbor was attacked.  Then our parents remember when Kennedy got capped.  Now we all remember where we were when we first heard MSTRKRFT (I was at some sketch party in West Oakland having an OKAY time when Easy Love came on and I hit the dining room floor with a PBR in one hand and good times in the other and danced like I had just quit my job).

But generational stories are bullshit.  For one, they are always surrounded by some trauma that leads to a generally uninteresting story and ‘bad vibes.’  Secondly, Kennedy only allegedly popped off in Marilyn Monroe, which means he could be an infinitely less interesting human being (Happy birthday Mr. could-not-fucking-execute).

Neighborhood stories are truly where it is at.  The first time I went to Dolores Park?  I was some broke-ass motherfucker that was sleeping under a dining room table of some people I didn’t know on Hampshire and some generally mild-mannered vegan kid suggested that we blow nine-bucks on Papalote and ride our bikes and newly-purchased burritos to the park with a $2 “out-the-door” High Life four-tay in our packs.  Magic + the banality of life all rolled into one.

The Make-Out Room is no different.  With a name like “The Make-Out Room,” chaos is begged to crash the party before you even step in the door.  While I generally disapprove of selling sex or using the allusion of such activities to lure otherwise virginal hipster lamebags through your front door, I’ve always felt this bar has come through in a pinch.  My first time involves awkwardly moving my body to surfer-rock and drinking too much whiskey, but you don’t want to hear about that.

(pics by visivo)


Comments (5)

I think the first time I heard MSTRKRFT was on 9/11.

Kennedy couldn’t execute because he was on enough pain meds, antianxiety agents, stimulants, sleeping pills, and hormones to kill a horse. Addison’s ain’t no joke.

You know I have noticed a lot of very good writing going on here on Almanac but I take exception to this article.
It starts when smart and hip writing goes a little too far off the Me I am the center of the world trip and into the lecture about why telling “generational stories” is whatever Me I opinions it is.
But is isn’t.
At least it’s not when it comes to Pearl Harbor stories because then it IS whatever I say it is and anyone else whose parent or grandparent was there serving and dying to protect our country say’s it is.
At that point you can shut up or fuck off or maybe take a moment to listen.
While I’m warm let me also bitch a little longer by adding that while I didn’t know President Kennedy either and wasn’t alive when he was as you say “capped” I can still manage to muster restraint and respect enough to not go there.
back to reading.
Good luck!

bro, thanks for the feedback but I wrote this at 330am on a friday night. It’s subject line is DRUNKBLOGGIN. It’s satire. Dunno. Isn’t it obvious?

Hi Kevin,

I hear what you are saying and have been there too.
Kevin, today as I re-read my earlier comment it sounds a little heavy. No surprise I am not perfect.
Just so you know last night I spent the better part of an hour reading many articles on the Almanac and kept thinking to myself this is the best damn media group I have come across in a long time. Fresh well written pieces with contemporary perspectives sans all the back slapping bullshit and antiquated swear and slang word censored standard of the big and boring media giants.
In retrospect I feel I held you to a higher standard than I should have at the time. I do wholly support your right to pursue good times and say whatever you want how and when you want too.
When you do good work and work with good people there will be times when readers, like me, will react and speak our mind as well as times we will let ourselves get carried away.
Please resist the urge to let individuals or even crowds ever shout you down!
On a personal note my grandfather was a Naval Officer stationed at Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941. He survived that attack but many of his friends and buddies did not. In my opinion the Americans many consider to be the World War II generation were optimistic, courageous and classy people. Even to this day when I am afforded the opportunity to hear their tales or chat with an elderly person I consider the minutes spent well worth the time.
Kevin, I look forward to hearing more from you and the other young bright people at Almanac.
Good luck to you!