Being that I am about to turn 18, I just filled out the “voter registration application.” In addition to buying pornography and cigarettes, voting will be one of my many responsibilities upon turning 18. I look forward to this responsibility more than I do others, such as, say, being tried as an adult. Mainly, I am excited about writing funny, absurd names on the ballots that no one would ever take seriously, like Donald Duck, or Hulk Hogan, or Pat Buchanan.
Everyone has their own specific responsibilities and expectations that they feel compelled to meet. Some responsibilities are pretty clear: if you are in a club, you should attend the meetings; if you are in a play, you should learn your lines; if you are a Senator, you should not accept lavish gifts from Korean businessmen. Those things are pretty much common sense. One responsibility that many recognize is charity. Charity is great, I am 100% in favor of helping people. That being said, if one more pale, dread-locked, love-beaded jerk comes up to me at an Allman Brothers concert asking for my signature and a donation, I’ll make his stupid Save-The-Burundian-Spotted-Beetle-Foundation crash and burn like Duane Allman. Now, you may say I have no heart for not caring about the poor beetle, or you may say I have no heart for the Duane Allman simile, but the point is that 99% of the people at that concert want to get more trashed than Kid Rock’s hotel room and hear a 45 minute version of Whipping Post, not ponder the plight of an insect.
There are millions of causes out there that people want you to be aware of, and it is impossible contribute to all of these causes. No one is going to cure the world of all its problems, except maybe the second coming of Christ. Or Bono. Granted, many of these organizations are vital and need funds and volunteers as desperately as the crowd at Lilith Fair needs razors and shaving cream. So why does it annoy me when I look at Paul “All Profits Go to Charity” Newman’s smug face staring out at me from the lemonade container, or when I see his eyes fixed on mine as I pour my salad dressing, his beautiful blue eyes that pierce through my soul like two gorgeous daggers; if being in love is a crime, than The Verdict for me is guilty! But my feelings about Paul Newman aside, yeah, that’s great that every time I buy Ben and Jerry’s/Dave Matthews Band’s “One Sweet Whirled” ice cream, a portion goes to save our environment, but you know what would really be a convenience? Making the ice cream cheaper. Maybe I can find my own charity to give it to, like a support group for people who listen to bland, overrated college rock bands whose popularity is solely dependent on the success of Colombian cannabis growers.
It is great when celebrities become involved and raise awareness about certain issues, but when Eddie Vedder tells me at one of his concerts to vote for Ralph Nader, I want to grab Stone Gossard’s guitar, hit Eddie in the head with it, and tell him to shut up and play Daughter. Though giving to charity and joining causes and being aware might be considered responsibilities to many people, it is also a responsibility to make these decisions for yourself instead of listening to a celebrity, whether it be Jello Biafra or Bon Jovi. Our main responsibility in life is to determine exactly what our responsibilities are. Now if you will excuse me, I have to go get my ear pierced and buy some lotto tickets.