But digressing...
Today, as I listened to his song, I started thinking about how ridiculous it is for Bucky (who looks very much like Inigo Montoya from The Princess Bride) to be singing about "how things used to be." Not only do I find this ludicrous because he is my age (26), but, because, honestly, how many times does art (if you can call this art) have to explore this same theme?
I mean, Bucky's definitely not breaking new ground here (I seem to recall something about tradition and generational pride and generational ethics and generational morals coming from that dude who liked to play his fiddle on the roof).
No matter how often this generational-pride-topic surfaces (which, if you have parents or grandparents, you know is very often) it seems that it is always our generation (Generation X/Y) that is being told how much better the world was before we came along and spoiled it (or before it spoiled us with its technological advancement and cultural acceleration).
In response to this tired discussion, I invariably laugh to myself, thinking how ridiculous these grumblings are and how detached their authors are from current reality. BUT...listening to Bucky's song today made me look at this issue from a different angle. You see, Bucky Covington may not just be a walking Bret Michaels tribute; he may also be a visionary.
Bucky may be the first person from our generation who has acknowledged the transition that is currently taking place in society: it is no longer Generation Y that is on the bottom of the totem pole in the generational-degradation/tradition-depreciation discussion. It occurred to me today that a whole new generation has sprouted up and thus, have usurped our spot as ungrateful, spoiled newbies.
That's right, half those kids you went to kindergarten with and with whom you shared your Happy Meals and lice and Little Debbie Snacks, now have little nuggets of their own (likely, many of you reading this). And we (at least I know I) am envious of these little rugrats' new toys.
I'm jealous of their little rollerblade tennis shoes and their motorized scooters and their cell phones and their chat rooms and their multi-buttoned video game controllers and their Zac Efrons and their Vanessa Hudgens. And in my (up until today, unconscious) envy, I often find myself remarking about how it's no wonder that many of today's young kids don't want to go out and play. And then I go on to remark about how things were "back in my day." I guess what I'm trying to say is that Bucky's (surprisingly) very listenable song has caused me to face a truth: The culture play has moved forward and with it, our generation has adopted the role of Tevye while Dakota Fanning's generation has assumed our recently-shed role of Tzeitel... only we've been too busy watching The Hills to realize the switch, and they've been too busy rollerblading in their Nikes to inform us about it.
Now, all of this being said, Bucky, who is from my home state of North Carolina, seems to be a super dude. Whether he is the genius augur I am (sarcastically) arguing him to be... well, I have my suspicions. But, regardless, I am very happy he has made a career for himself post-Idol (and post-The Princess Bride).
But then again, if you think about it, musical celebrity was bound to happen for Bucky, right? I mean, when you name your kid Bucky, don't you really only leave him with two options? He can either be a mechanic (which is, ironically, what Bucky was before Idol) or a country music star.
In which case, if I were a Bucky...
I'd say bring on the fiddle.
| written by Austin Carty
