My buddy Jason lent me a Face to Face/Dropkick Murphys split CD, and I was listening to it on my way to work the other day. The Face to Face songs were all decent, but felt like they were from the lesser part of their canon.
As I’m pulling into the parking garage, the first Dropkicks track starts and it’s aggressively Irish. There’s a pan flute and a chick with a sexy brogue, the whole nine yards. This makes sense because the Dropkick Murphys themselves are an extremely Irish punk band from Boston that even does a punk rock version of Amazing Grace with bagpipes.
I myself am not Irish, and thus do not relate in the least to the Irish fetish that engulfs large swaths of white people in this country. I drink Guinness maybe four times a year and I think St. Patrick’s Day is for amateurs.
So as I’m listening to this super Irish song, I think to myself, “I’m not Irish, I don’t plan on being Irish, so why the fuck do I care about all this Irish suffering mythologized in song?”
I then realize that’s the same basic construction of part of Ferris Bueller’s monologue from the beginning of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. So I start reciting that in my head.
“…I do have a test today. That wasn’t bullshit. It’s on European socialism. I mean, really, what’s the point? I’m not European. I don’t plan on being European. So who gives a crap if they’re socialists? They could be fascist anarchists, still wouldn’t change the fact that I don’t own a car.”
That last sentence about fascist anarchists I said in my head right as I stepped out of my car and spotted a woman unloading her bag out of the backseat a few parking spaces over. Why’s she looking at me funny?
Yep. I wasn’t reciting that Ferris Bueller monologue only in my head, I was actually saying it out loud. And so from the perspective of this lady, a car pulls up, out steps some dude who says to no one, “They could be fascist anarchists, still wouldn’t change the fact that I don’t own a car.”
Clearly I do own a car given that I just pulled up in one, and what the fuck is a fascist anarchist? Knowing what I know after living with Kristin for nearly 6 years, I know she’ll never be able to pluck that little snippet out of the air and correctly place it in the correct Ferris Bueller context because women don’t think the entirety of their thoughts in movie quotes, so I sit the rest of the day positive that she’s gone mad with befuddlement over what the hell some crazy asshole was muttering to himself as he pulled into work.
And she now lives as Lewis Black does. “If it weren’t for my horse, I wouldn’t have spent that year in college.”