My Story?" - Pretty
Story?" - Pretty Cool!!!
|But you may not want to
read about my life and hard times. After all, Iím
a three month old freshcut, just turned 18, high
school skinhead. Mikeís the name, and racism is
NOT the game. Iím into byrds, cars, and soccer.
||Yes. Iím a skin. Even
though, after cruising the internet skin sites,
who the hell knows what a true skin is? Oi Skins,
Trad Skins, Red Skins, Rude Skins, Queer Skins,
Yellow Skins, Sharp Skins, and White Power Skins.
In fact, most of the virtual-reality skinheads
seem to be self anointed, self opinionated
ego-maniacs. But Oi! Itís okay! Everyone has the
right to their views of the cult. But just let me
have mine. Get it???
|So here it goes. Iím a high
school fuck-up. Lousy grades, poor attendance, and
a detention room regular. Yet I'm a proud skin.
Iíve worked in a car wash for over two years- just
like Dirk from the other skin story. Creamed my
car, got busted for drinking and smoking- tobacco
by the way, and yet Iím a proud skin. And I like
the scene, as I see it. Cool music, cool clothes,
cool brews, and excellent mates. My crew isnít
big, but weíre tight and have fun with a capital
ĎFí. Sorry if this doesnít fit into your
definition of what a skinhead should be, but it
fits mine just fine.
|Three months ago, when I
first kicked off my vans for a pair of black,
steel-toed, 14-eyelet docs [expensive little
motherís arenít they], itís been all up hill.
Buzzcuts, braces, 501 Levis, Sta-Pressed, Fred
Perrys. Sure, some of the assholes in schools make
comments, and one even jacked me in the face at a
party, before my crew tore it up. But Oi, thatís
life in the big city. [Check out the shiner on my
|And in three months as a
skin, I found out who my real friends are. They
have accepted the "skin me" w/o comments or smart
remarks. Only my phony friends made wisecracks and
put me down. So the first lesson I learned about
being a skinhead is walk tall, be proud, and keep
the faith. The second lesson, is screw the
weirdoes who just donít know, donít want to know,
and will never, understand the skin feeling. The
third lesson is that everyone thinks they know
what color means in our bootlaces and braces.
Heavy, but it just ainít so. And the fourth
lesson, which I knew before I became a skin, is
that politics and politicians, be they the left or
the right, are fucked. Just leave me alone, and
let me dig the music, the pride, and my crew.
|No Meacupas! I like being a
skinhead. I even like being a fresh cut, and most
of all I feel good about myself as a skin. Plus
the music and skanking is pretty cool. Later.