Don’t Bogart That Joint


little feat/fat man in the bathtub
Put my money in your meter baby so it won’t run down But you caught me in the squeeze play on the cheesy side of town

First and foremost, no I was not, am not, a true participant of the 70’s!  Perhaps, the late 70’s…but certainly not Watergate and Deep Throat.  I did however, grow up with older half siblings that felt the need to engage me in all the Polka Dot, macrame rage!

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How well does anyone really know the history of slang?  Our vernaculars, 2019…deeply set in the language of Soul Train and American Bandstand!

Are you going bootin’?

I went bootin’!  I went bootin’ at ‘Funspot’ roller rink!  Boogying down to Donna Summer’s ‘Love to Love You Baby!’

Course, I had been spazzing out to the strobe lights that were dancing off the disco ball.  The ‘Man’ had been keeping my catholic school ass since 1972!  And, fool that I was…I had disappointingly been looking for jive ass religion at the bottom of a Cracker Jack box.

Just another Generation X queer looking to Lay Down Sally or Judy in Disguise!

I don’t want to boast but I had been ‘wicked’ cool in my cut off Toughskins and Halter Top!  Riding ’round the all-white city of Concord in my ten speed from Sears.  Avoiding Smokey with some bitchin’ studded tires!

At the end of the era I had learned two significant things!

Never Bogart a joint!

AND

Never get busted with burnouts who are trippin’ for the Bay City Rollers!

70's Slang

 

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