I wish more people had the brass to be different. Elvis was different. David Bowie was different. So was Alanis Morissette—remember her? At one time everyone copied them, but now they seem so dated.

This occurs to me today when I see the fifth young person shuffle by, tips of the hair dyed purple, tattooed like graffiti on a subway train, face full of shrapnel and their pants hanging off because apparently size matters, but fit doesn't.

If you do this stuff to get noticed, please notice that five of you went by before I noticed. Why? Because it's not unusual anymore, that's why! Even way up here in the mountains, it just isn't that different anymore.

Look, if you go bobbing for staples, that's your business. We once hired a bassist who had his nose chained to his ear, maybe because it was a rough room and he was afraid someone might steal it. The point is it didn't matter to me one bit, as long as he plays his part and doesn't get that thing caught in my guitar.

I don't mind body art either, on pretty girls in discreet places. It's a great conversation starter, since besides music I don't have that much to talk about. But there's a limit, as a gentleman gets turned off if a lady has been poked a million times. Most tattoos seem tacky, but some are works of fine craftsmanship and I can appreciate that.

Hair dye is fine as well—although not having as much hair as in days gone by, I'm not inclined to risk the remainder to chemicals. I do get a kick out of people who talk "green" and are concerned for the environment yet put toxic stuff on their head.

What really gets me is the pants thing. I mean, a tattoo you eventually forget about, a dye job is out of sight for the most part, and I suppose you can even chew around a dumbbell in your tongue, but droopy drawers has just got to be a constant nuisance.

First, you lose a hand because you are constantly fighting gravity holding them up. In the event of fire, you'll be the last one out the door since you surely cannot run in those things. Finally, unless you're fourteen, you must realize that you look like a fool.

Perhaps huge pants can double as a tent, but as a statement of individuality these things don't really stand you apart anymore, do they? I saw five of you guys today!

Fortunately, we live in a free country. You can look any way you want to, and I suppose it's a good thing that we can see you coming. In some cases from a mile away, though I'm not sure this is the most important freedom our troops have fought for.

Yes, I sound like my parents, back when I had long hair, bell-bottoms, beads, a lava lamp, jumbo lapels and I was fourteen. That would be around 1975. They could not understand my fashion sense then, and I thought my folks were so out of it. Yet over time I've come to understand their point of view. Nobody wants their kid to look like a fool.

Fortunately I was able to obtain and destroy most of the photos. It wasn't easy, it took a long time, and please keep that in mind the next time you're shopping for pants.

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Mike Stanley