Cintra Wilson is shocked and dismayed to find the crowd at a party for a vapid men's magazine to be sterile and passionless. Based on these hangers-on of celebrity culture, Wilson laments the apathy of "youth culture." Note to the writer: There are twentysomethings who still get excited about art, literature and music. They just don't read Details magazine, and wouldn't be caught dead at a function for said publication. I would imagine the same could be said for Lester Bangs, were he still alive. Even I, whose birthdate hovers around the late '70s like those models at the party, know that Lester Bangs was writing for and from the underground. The same kinds of impassioned voices still exist down there.

-- Erik A. Kraft
Madison, Wis.

Dying young is definitely an antidote to age-induced lameness; however, Cintra, you must know in your rock 'n' roll heart that McCartney and Elton were always fey, prissy wannabes. Age ravages, no doubt, but the edge is not necessarily blunted: see Van Morrison, Dylan or Mick and Keith. If you must go to these kinds of parties, try getting as drunk as possible, maintaining only enough composure to pass muster at the velvet ropes, and then immediately upon entry let all those assholes know exactly what you think of them. No doubt you'll be 86'd for a few trend-years, but you'll feel a whole lot better knowing that you've acted in the best tradition and interests of rock 'n' roll.

-- Tony Brown

While the rock artifacts mentioned in this piece have certainly outlived their collective usefulness, I've got to tell you that I saw the Stones this last time around and it almost felt like 1972 again! So don't throw out all the aging rock icons with the bath water! Sure, it cost me nearly $200 (it would have been more, but at the last minute we decided to ignore my 8-year-old daughter's pleas and leave her home) vs. the $6.50 it did back in the old days -- but at any rate, the boys tightly pounded out a lineup of hits and relative obscurities in such a loud, raucous and delightfully edgy fashion that I could swear that we had all been transported back in time.

Today, elevator music passes for contemporary rock, while TV truly has become that vast wasteland we were warned about way back when. As one who has always prided himself on being fairly contemporary and intuitive on trends, I find it truly pathetic that, if I want to listen to something with an edge to it, I have to dust off "Exile on Main Street." If I want to view a complex film I have to dig up my old copy of "The Wild Bunch." And, God forbid, if I want a good old-fashioned yet incisive laugh I have to search out old "Andy Griffith" reruns.

The very fact that about half of the people digging the Stones that night probably weren't born the first time I saw them live tells me that, sadly, we still need them. I don't know how much longer Mick, Keith and Charlie can stave off what on their planet must pass for old age but my daughter has informed me, in no uncertain terms, that the next time they come around she's going -- with or without me!

-- George A. Fuller
Warren, Ohio

Nothing Personal: Jack the vote
BY AMY REITER
(10/28/99)

Amy Reiter wrote: "Helms to several congresswomen, before having them removed from a Senate hearing by Capitol police as they tried to present him a letter in favor of an international treaty against sexual discrimination." But wording it that way is a little disingenuous. They "presented" the letter by disrupting a Senate hearing with shouts and signs. They're members of Congress, for heaven's sake!

You think discourse is uncivil now? Keep nodding approval of juvenile demonstrations such as theirs and you ain't seen nothing yet.

-- Mike Long
Washington

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