Get the Kinks Out

We would all like to get the kinks out of our lives.

Maybe, even take them out for a drink if they were together

or ever decided to get back together again

as a musical group.

It doesn’t look very promising for a reunion, though.

I don’t think anyone but ‘Dave’ is up for it these days, at least.

How cool would it be to be a gracefully aging rock star like Dave Davies!

I surely think it would.

Personally, I think he’s got class.

Here’s what old Dave has been up to, lately…

incredible Now…

But, I do like the ‘Kinks.’

I like them the way they were.


and, they are OK with me, now.

I mean, if they were back together, again.


In the yesteryear…

Dave Davies of the Kinks wrote

‘where have all the good times gone?’

I told you to you about this before.

I know the good times were there back in 1965 (for me.)

You only know they are gone, when they are gone, then it is too late

to retrieve them and bring them back again.

You only go around once.

You don’t get a second chance at it.

The good times are, now.

my now, was then.

the good times, were then.

When you are a kid, you really don’t know much.

you are pretty much ignorant about a lot of stuff.

speaking for myself, at least, I was.

(you never realize it, even if you are old. I mean, that you didn’t know diddly and

maybe still might not know as much as you think you do. I tell you below what god and the devil do to mess with your mind, below…)

It’s when you get older you learn there’s limitations.

You learn what can’t be done.

when everyone tells you that so many times, you start believing in it.

the believing of it is what starts the process of growing old.

(and, when you do, (start believing it) you are dead in the water without a paddle.)

When you are young, you are oblivious to knowing you don’t know, but wouldn’t listen, anyway. You wouldn’t have a clue what they were talking about nor would you care. You would take it as just another lecture by some old person (adult)

You didn’t even think anything you set your mind to couldn’t be done.

You never realize whatever you do, and the large bulk of it only serves to pass the time and distract you from your own feelings…

And, then, you wake up old and wonder where all the time went?

You might also wonder where have all the good times gone?

I know where they went.

(all the good times)

They didn’t go anywhere.

They stayed in the past along with my innocence

and naiveté.

We distract ourselves through video games, working, relationships, and our various bad habits and vices like smoking and alcohol, etc.

In the song’s lyrics,

his mama didn’t have ‘no boys’ (old mom was faithful? Is that what he meant? I guess, if he did, that’s a good thing to have a mom like that… I vaguely remember this guy coming inside our house when dad had gone to work who wore this white suit. Yes, the milkman. No, they were only supposed to set the milk outside, not bring it inside the house and then wander into another room with my mom and close the door…)

Moving on,

as the song goes…

his father didn’t have any ‘toys’ (they didn’t have video games back then. I play Angry Bird. I know, I know. It’s a five year old’s game. Don’t tell anyone how retarded I am…)

I look at my sweet pets and watch them grow old with me.

A thought comes to mind…

‘This all ain’t goanna end good.’

But, you don’t want to give good advice when it wasn’t asked for.

You don’t want to care about what nobody else doesn’t give a S__T about.

But, as I write, God proves me wrong

(time and time again)

pointing his finger at me telling me

driving the point home

in his wordless way

in so many unprovable

indirect often unseen unpredictable untimely inexplicable ways…

‘I told you so. You just wouldn’t listen, would you? There now, that’s what you get!’

while the devil gleefully laughs his head off at me

siding with god as he so often does

at my expense

as I’m

bleeding in pain.

When do you stop doing what you like to do?

One good example…

Look at this writing, here.

I wonder when I should stop doing it?

It will be left after I’m gone.

I have to turn it into books

(but, I’m a Putzer, and remember I told you how slowly putzers move?)

Nevertheless, this site will probably be shut down eventually.

Why keep it open when I am not here, anymore?

Books can also go out of print.

so will all my copyrights after seventy some years…

What’s the point of being famous?

It could make tons of money.

you could buy a nicer car with all that cash

and that car will turn to dust someday

or someone could smash into you

on purpose because they knew you had bucks and turn things around in court

and make themselves the victim

and sue the hell out of you

receiving a very tidy sum

liquidating all of your bank accounts…

you could have construction workers remodel your mansion

and overcharge you for very little work done.

You could light expensive Cuban cigars with hundred dollar bills.

You could pay your ex-wife millions in alimony and child support.

Your pool boy could trip on your Poodle, hit his head on the diving board knocking himself out and fall in the pool and drown and you could be in the papers for

gross negligence

(and, once more, sued the hell out of)

But, they can never take your old fans away from you who liked you when they were also young.

At least they will probably stay your fans until they go to the wild blue hereafter.

then, the blackboard gets erased

by the janitor

who never finished high school

and shortly after

someone else grabs a piece

of chalk

(who also never finished high school)

writing something

in the exact spot you

used to write.

incredible Then…



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