Last night, I was visited by a punk rock god by the name of Johnny Ramone. Well, not exactly visited by him in person, because his physical body has been dead for 20 years now, but it was certainly his ghost. And although being a huge Ramones fan all my life, it turned out to be one of the most disappointing moments of my entire existence. Disappointing because on top of Johnny’s trademark mop-top sat a bright red MAGA hat.
They say not to meet your idols, but no one ever said you shouldn’t meet your dead idol’s ghost. I’ve learned that fact the hard way.
Now, I know I shouldn’t be totally shocked that Johnny would be a Trumper. I mean, look at how much he loved George W. Bush before he passed away. “God Bless George Bush?” of course if he were around, or his ghost were around, he’d mostly likely become the punk voice of the MAGA cult. But having him in ghost form visit me unannounced and saying “Stop the steal” in that thick Brooklyn accent makes me question if I ever want to listen to “Road to Ruin” ever again!
This hat ordeal was really only the beginning. He kept going on about how Trump is a “Victim of a modern day witch hunt,” and “Let’s go Brandon” at whatever chance he got. I wanted to talk to him about I don’t know…the early CBGB days or what it was like working with Phil Specter or something. But nope, he seemed like he couldn’t even hear me. You know how difficult it is to have an apparition of your idol show up in your apartment spouting right wing nonsense while wearing a MAGA hat and a Mickey Mouse t-shirt? I really wish Dee Dee would have shown up instead.
This whole experience has opened my eyes to something I never even thought of before. Something that I probably should have considered decades ago. And that is I should probably slow down on sniffing glue in my bed at night before falling asleep.