I finally found my permanent record.
Not nearly as incriminating as I feared.
It was being kept in a filing cabinet in rural Virginia, in a room next to where they store everything that’s ‘in the cloud’.
There are also rooms for lost baseball mitts, unrequited loves, and pennies and nickels that people quit picking up in 1974 because they were no longer worth the effort.
Among the threats used to terrify us back in the day, “This will go on your permanent record” was one of the most powerful.
Even worse than “Behave, or you’ll have to play with the girls at recess”.
Of course, in Catholic school we lived in constant fear, constantly reminded there was so much to fear, so much to repent for, so little time.
The first arrow in the fear quiver was sin, ranging from venial to mortal.
We were taught early and often, that a sin is anything you say, do or think, that goes against what God wants.
Our nuns adding: Playing co-ed Twister, Running near the pool, and bruising while being disciplined.
And reminding we still suffered from original sin.
But it struck me that God must be somewhat vindictive if my forgetting to make my bed (venial sin, class A) could hurt our relationship.
The Church had a thorough catalog of sins – sort of like a government agency responsible for bad behavior – but offered Confession, so we could make things ‘right’.
But no appeal on that original sin thing.
Though the biggest fear propaganda was reserved for premarital sex – a mortal sin, but apparently only if done correctly.
We knew we’d be struck dead and/or burn in hell if we ‘did it’, sort of like eating that Japanese fish that might turn out to be poisonous. But incredibly delicious.
And not totally sure what ‘sex’ really was, boys were relieved to wake alive each morning…
There was much to fear in the outside world:
Polio, forcing us to participate in the ‘Iron Lung Challenge’;
The Cold War was hot – Russia could “drop the bomb any minute”, and I still root against the Cincinnati Reds, Pete Rose a Soviet tool.
And for 8 year old me, knowing Santa Claus knew everything – he even “sees you when you’re sleeping” – was nerve wracking. Which today’s kids must face with that creepy Elf on the Shelf thing.
Ultimately though, every generation is shaped and defined by what they fear: Our generation fearing Nuclear Armageddon, Today’s Kids (Shakes Fist Angrily!) fearing being mis-pronouned.
But the threat by the Government, Churches and our parents: “You better watch yourself, we know what you’re up to” began with technology, of course…
… When the invention of the printing press made mass production of the Bible, newspapers, and dis/mis information about the Black Plague Vaccine possible.
The subsequent discovery of the filing cabinet enabled the ‘keeping of records’, allowing our behavior to be categorized, analyzed, and used against us.
Leading to the threat of a “permanent record”: a comprehensive account of what you’ve done, good and bad.
Which upon further consideration, really was nothing to fear, for those living right.
At the end of it all, only we know what’s on our permanent record, only we truly knowing how we’ve lived.
Though the people you interact with certainly have an opinion.
The potential good news: Your permanent record’s not permanently permanent – if you’re not satisfied, the opportunity to revise and reinvent begins today.
In hindsight, Sr. Mary Something was right: This will go on your permanent record.
Behave accordingly.
For 190 more posts like this –each with a wish for less scrutiny – go to beersatthenifty.com. Your phone will display every post, and you can waste an hour or two.
Or send me an email to the site, and I’ll add you to my Sunday distribution.
TO ENHANCE YOUR ENJOYMENT OF THIS POST, PAIR IT WITH THE FOLLOWING SONGS:
A helpful reader proposed Little Feat’s live album “Waiting for Columbus” as a better music choice for the Columbus Day post. Good call. The album is among another reader’s ‘Deserted Island CDs” so Little Feat at their best.
Lowell George was the multi-instrumental front man, who was a member of Frank Zappa’s Mothers of Invention early in his career, Zappa said to have urged him to “go play your own kind of music”.
Check out “Feats Don’t Fail Me Now”, “Dixie Chicken” and Lowell’s solo work. “Thanks, I’ll Eat It Here” one of rock’s great album titles.
I was lucky enough to see Feats with Lowell in Chicago in 1977ish, with Big Al a fellow attendee. He still owes me $7 for the ticket… You may know Al for “Big Al’s Theorem”, useful when calculating beer requirements for a vacation weekend: 1) # of travelers times 2) # of days times 3) average # of beers per person per day. Then double it.
Unfortunately, Lowell died of drug related causes on June 29, 1979, the DJ announcing it around 5:30P, which touched off a semi-legendary night in downtown Chicago, fueled by shock and grief.
The WXRT DJ (Johnny Mars?) played the following to mark the tragic news:
Somebody’s Leavin’ Little Feat Written by Billy Payne
Tell me somebody
What was it like when you saw your whole life go under?
Did you cry?
Was there someone there or were you on your own
Why can’t two people
Leave well enough alone
Just being here is lonely
So why don’t you just give me a chance to come into your life
Did you hear me when I told you I loved you
Forgetting what you might not know
Somebody’s leavin’ tonight
Somebody’s leavin’ tonight
So why don’t you let me take you down to old mexico
Where you can dream, none so sweet as dream I have of holding you
Did you hear me when I told you I loved you
Forgetting what you might not know
I’ve tried so many ways just to tell you
But you left me here jus to hold my own
And I know that you been hurting, ’cause I been hurtin’ too
Somebody’s leavin’ tonight
Somebody’s leavin’ tonight