Welfare Yuppies

Looking back from thirty-three, it’s hard to believe it was really me.

That cocky son of a gun, I was wall to wall, man. Had the world on the run.

We was kings, yeah, we was bad. The best. The biggest. The wise, the mad.

Stopped being heroes in seventy-three. Watergate and Tricky Dick were way too much for me.

They called us long haired hippies then,
said we’d leave the biggest mark.
Now we’re welfare yuppies
I think we got left in the dark.
Some of us hide in factories.
Some of us work in banks.
Some of us cut our hair

and now we build their tanks.

But when the great historians write all their silly books
Maybe the world will understand and give us one last look.

Unless, of course, they read the script and never watched the book.

They called us long haired hippies then,
said we’d leave the biggest mark.
Now we’re welfare yuppies
Who was it left us in the dark?

RC  (not the cola)

© 1989 Robert Carraher All rights reserved

About DirtyLowdown
I was born in Pomona, California at a very young age. I had a pretty normal childhood…or I was a pretty normal child hood if mom is telling the story. I was a paperboy who always porched , usually on the subscribers porch. I washed cars and bussed tables which left me with a life time affliction of chapped lips. I was a soda fountain jock-jerk and a manic mechanic but my first real job was as a labor organizer in a maternity ward. Then, because of the misjudgment of a judge I spent nearly 10 years in the service of our country mostly on KP duty. Our country sure turns out a lot of dirty dishes. I am a past master at pots and pans. They eventually recognized my real talent and let me wander around some very unfriendly places carrying a big radio that didn’t work. Along the way I took up the bass guitar, jotting down stories, electronic engineering and earned a degree in advanced criminal activities. I spent most of my adult life, if you can call it that, working in the I.T. industry, which I was particularly suited for since we worked in rooms with no windows. On and off I taught in colleges, universities and reform schools as a student teacher… I like smog, traffic, kinky people, car trouble, noisy neighbors, and crowded seedy bars where I have been known to quote Raymond Chandler as pickup lines. I have always been a voracious reader, everything from the classics, to popular fiction, history to science but I have a special place in my heart for crime fiction, especially hard-boiled detective fiction and noir. I write a book and music review blog for all genres at The Dirty Lowdown and another dedicated to Crime Fiction and all things Noir called Crimeways. It’s named after the magazine that appeared in the Kenneth Fearing classic, The Big Clock. There I write scholarly reviews of the classic hard boiled, noir and crime fiction books from the 20's through today. Mostly I drool over the salacious pictures on the covers. I also write for Technorati/BlogCritics where I am part of a sinister cabal of superior writers.

2 Responses to Welfare Yuppies

  1. Dennis says:

    thirty three, you say….??? I was HOT at 33….new on the market…..fresh on the stand….and looking for the biggest baddest love affair that ever shook the west coast…..what I found were addicts, the sexually challenged….the mute and the mutts. they were all rescues, I told myself, slid off the barstool and drove back to my five hundred square foot apartment on the third floor and listened to the lesbians below me beat the shit out of each other….seemed a sad way for my youth to end…..Yep…..thirty three….now if youd just gone back another ten years….now THOSE…..THOSE were the days…..

  2. Steve says:

    Stirs up a lot. As an unrepentant hippie I blame it all on us. We gave up and hid away in communes or drugs. Afraid of what others would think. A few soldiered on and lived the life day in and out. We got tired though and let the man win. A battle here and a battle there lost and soon the war for a better way has faded into obscurity. A feeling of futility soon leads to apathy and remembrances become bittersweet should’ves…

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