Henry Rollins: The Column! How I Spend My Nights Off

I can recall three occasions when I ran into this kind of old dude.<br><br> Number one was just ahead of me in the line to vote in 2010, ranting the whole way for all to hear. I recall him glancing at my printout of the Witness L.A. endorsements, and saying something derogatory about one of them to the woman in front of him, and I remember him saying something to her about Glenn Beck, but after a while I grinned and said, loudly and cheefully, “OK, I’m going to the end of the line now...” <br><br> When I was about to enter it was announced that it was time for them to close the door, prompting me to smile again and say in the same tone, “What, I don’t get to vote but the angry Glenn Beck fan does? That’s no fair!” Apparently I’d misunderstood the announcement and they were letting everybody there in, but my comment seemed to to embarrass the guy and make him shut up.<br><br> Number two was a guy I’d sat across from in a doctor’s waiting room. He had prosthetic legs that he periodically removed to massage the stumps, and, I guess since I was the only person in the place willing to sit facing him, he soon started telling me his story: hed been the victim of a hit-and-run by an illegal alien while riding his motorcycle. The other driver didn’t have insurance, and not only that, but they’d just let him go after they caught him, and he disappeared, so this guy had to pay $25,000 for medical care, and now he’d come all the way from Bakersfield to see about surgery for a hernia he’d developed in the processes of getting his legs ripped off. Then of course he went on about how the country was going communist, and they were even talking about giving driver’s licenses to illegal aliens.<br><br> So I listened sympathetically until he’d finished his rant, meanwhile thinking that perhaps giving licenses to  illegals might be a good thing for someone in his situation, but somehow this didn  seem the best tac to start with. Instead I told him the story of my accident in Korea: I was jaywalking on the way to the job I’d gotten even though I was on a tourist visa, when I got hit by a taxi, snapping my arm in half, and that, even though I didn’t have any insurance, they’d taken care of all my medical expenses, and given me a bit of money, too. He asked me if that was a communist country, and I said, “No, it’s a democracy! You know, in most countries, they take care of people!” Now granted I’d left out the bit about the doctor screwing up my operation slightly, but unfortunately the place this happened was not the ideal country to use as an example, but, hell, there are plenty of countries that are, plus I like to think I planted a little seed of sympathy for the undocumented. The conversation then moved on to other things. He went to the same high school as my dad. Nice guy...<br><br> Number three walked into a Carl’s Jr. around 6 o’clock one morning as I was looking at the paper and consuming my coffee and biscuits. Very gregarious old dude, chatting at length with all the kids working there, knew everybody’s name, and apparently those of their friends and families as well. Eventually he sat at the table next to mine, glanced at my paper, and asked, “So what do you think about this Obamacare?” I shrugged and said, “Well, it’s complicated...” He said, “It seems to me that whenever countries like England nationalize their health care, they decline.” I said, “Oh, that’s bullshit... but, you know, it’s early. If I really wanted to argue about this stuff, I’d get on the Internet.” He said, “You can read about it on the Internet?” I said, “Of course! There’s millions of people who argue about this stuff all day.” Then I went back to my paper as he muttered, “People argue about it all day, but the government does whatever it wants.” Later I thought about maybe printing out some of that Internet stuff for him, but the place started a new policy of charging for coffee refills, so I stopped coming anymore.<br><br> I’ve found myself able to get on fine with indivuals holding every sort of appalling worldiew, up to and including quite serious Nazi leanings (and I’m Jewish), and found other people whom I can’t stomach, and vice versa, despite largely agreeing with them about the world at large. But the one who just leaves me at a loss entirely is the guy who shuts his eyes to the reality that Bowie’s best work was his glam stuff, with Hunky Dory being tops. Station to Station, Lodger and Scary Monsters are all pretty solid, but Low leaves me cold. Heroes I like for the production, although it’s a pity about the songs, and some of the disco grooves bum me up. Maybe if somebody remixed those next two albums to sound like that we might have something.

@LAWeekly Sweet! "I have learned I shouldn't go anywhere without a personal music device. " - Brilliant! @henryrollins