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The Honolulu Advertiser
Posted on: Tuesday, March 18, 2003

Rock rolls into mainstream

By Tony Hicks
Knight Ridder News Service

America needs to return the word "rock" to its rightful owners.

There was once a day when, if someone didn't own a sleeveless Judas Priest shirt and know the secret devil-horns salute, they weren't legally entitled to say that something "rocked."

Now everything "rocks." It's become a euphemism for "good," which is really funny considering how America has typically reacted to rock 'n' roll.

"Hey, (name of employed subordinate here). Nice work on that trade conference presentation. It really rocked. You really rock. In fact, your whole department really rocks. Moreover, I must really rock for hiring you."

The rock spirit is being hijacked by the mainstream in so many other ways. There was actually a time when people didn't throw the devil-horns salute (hereafter known as the DHS) at Shania Twain concerts. That was supposed to mean evil, scary stuff.

"Get away, Mom, I'm not afraid of the devil's music and here I flash his crimson horns to prove it. Back off; these horns signify that I'm different, I'm threatening, you'll never understand how crazy I am. The seas are about to boil and we're about to take over."

Well, something like that, anyway.

It mostly became a funny thing as years went by, yet somehow periodically flashing the ol' DHS to a buddy meant that, no matter how old you got, you wouldn't abandon your old Saxon records in the name of newfound twentysomething urban sophistication.

But that generation grew up, and the inside joke spread to the mainstream they now controlled.

Hey, accounting rocks.

You want proof that rock 'n' roll has gone absolutely, over-the-edge, suburban safe? I went to a 7-Eleven this morning to get my daily dose of Rockstar Energy Drink (as if that isn't enough proof right there) when I noticed the counter covered in Osbournes paraphernalia.

I had to shift the Ozzy bobblehead over to the pile of Jack Osbourne writing pens to make room for my purchase. Then it hits me: Didn't this Ozzy guy used to be dangerous? Didn't he chew up and swallow helpless winged mammals? Didn't he go to the slammer for trying to strangle his wife in a drunken rage?

Now he's as huggable as a big pink carnival-prize bunny.

Hey, Big Gulps rock.

This is what happens when the desperately cool get some money. Comic book bigwig Todd McFarlane started his own toy company a few years ago, and pretty soon Metallica action figures were stocked at every suburban mall.

McFarlane makes Jerry Garcia, Jim Morrison and Janis Joplin action figures. Can you imagine trying to convince your kid to play with a Jerry Garcia action figure?

There's plenty of blame to go around. In their quest for ownership of all the money in the world, Gene Simmons and Paul Stanley of Kiss put the makeup back on in 1996 and proceeded to market everything they could possibly think of — plates, thermoses, toilet seats, whatever they could paint a logo on and sell for $29.95.

On the one hand, America deserves a bit of rock 'n' roll fun. It's about time people lighten up and enjoy the wholesome fun that is Ozzy biting small animals in two. Rockers used to have a real dilemma because rock was considered dangerous, so by extension, they were too. That could be troubling, especially when people would shield their children from you in Safeway because of your Iron Maiden shirt.

But that's precisely why it was so fun. Rockers were in the minority, wearing their silly $11 concert shirts like a badge of honor. It was our thing, and the scarier, the better. It's no fun trying to be different if everybody's starting to agree with you.

That doesn't rock at all.