Heart and Mind

Dirtbags

Do you guys know what a dirtbag is?

Whenever I look for a definition, I come up with all sorts of things that don't hit the mark, at least as the word relates to my experiences.

Wikipedia says, "Dirtbag is a general term for a filthy or dirty person."

Maybe in a very general sense it's true that you could use the word to describe a dirty person. And sometimes I've heard people use the term to describe an unethical, con-artist who can't be trusted, as in, "That guy is a real dirtbag. You don't want to do business with him."

But where I come from—and I come from Long Island in the 1980s—a dirtbag was much more specific a term than that.

For starters, although "dirtbag" was often used as a derisive term, it didn't have to be. As often as not, it was merely a label to identify a reasonably large sub-culture within our schools. It was not unlike the terms "jock" (an athletic type), "brain" (a successful academic sort), or "freak" (gothy, theatre-major type). And while all those terms are derisive at their core, they really weren't. Sure, "jocks" were referred to as such because of a smelly athletic support intended to protect male genitalia, but they weren't offended by that. They knew it just meant that people saw them as athletic, which they liked.

Similarly, most dirtbags knew they were dirtbags and, frankly, were proud of it. That's because being a dirtbag was a lifestyle, attitude, and image that they voluntarily subscribed to. Most dirtbags I knew loved being dirtbags. Especially the guys.

So where I come from, dirtbag was simply a noun. Like "redhead," it had adjective-like origins, but the red-headed person became a noun in the form of a redhead. And people know what a redhead is. Similarly, people knew what a dirtbag was.

So, let's define a dirtbag.

For starters, in the 1980s, dirtbags listened to heavy metal. There isn't a lot of wiggle room on this one. If you were into Depeche Mode or REM or even Tom Petty, you really couldn't have been in the dirtbag fraternity. Dirtbags liked metal. End of story. But not just any metal...

The male dirtbags did not like any of the metal that you saw on "Dial MTV." Bands that have become known as "hair bands" in retrospect were NOT RESPECTED. They were considered poseur metal or false metal. Your Bon Jovis, Cinderellas, and, believe it or not, even Guns 'n' Roses at the time (Guns didn't gain universal acceptance and appreciation until after the fact) were all considered watered-down, glammy, non-metal. Dirtbags liked "real metal" and would denounce anything for being "too soft." In the mid-to-late 1980s, dirtbags dug bands that didn't wear lots of makeup and hairspray, like Iron Maiden, Judas Priest, pre-...And Justice-Metallica, Overkill, Metal Church, early Queensryche, and bands of that ilk. And, before those bands broke, in the very early 1980s, it was bands like Rush and AC/DC. I mean, we're talking about an era before AC/DC was played at weddings and before Geddy Lee cut his hair.

Now, with the females, there was a notable exception with the music. It was still "metal," but the girls were able to be into Bon Jovi and post-Shout at the Devil-Motlely Crue without being ridiculed by other dirtbags. Those were acceptable as "chick bands."

Imagewise, not surprisingly, dirtbags generally followed a code of attire and presentation that was based largely on their musical mentors. For the guys: long hair, jeans that looked well-worn and not too nice, an earring in the left ear (this was before it was acceptable for anyone to pierce his ear), and a black concert T-shirt shirt featuring one of the approved bands on the front and with their tour dates on the back. Not, of course, that you would usually be able to see those tour dates that often, because the dirtbags often wore their denim jackets all day long, even in school where it was 100 degrees. These jackets had patches on them, like ones that said, "Metallica Alcoholica," and sometimes pins. Oh, and if you were a real tried-and-true dirtbag, you paid someone to paint some album cover (or 12-inch single cover featuring Iron Maiden's Eddie) on the back of your jacket. They even started making giant patches for the back of your denim jacket when dirtbag culture caught on, so people who had parents who wouldn't let them wreck their clothes could get in on the fun without actually ruining the jacket with a non-removable paint job. But that was purely for wanna-be dirtbags, not authentic ones.

For the girls, they usually wore the concert tees in the "chick-metal" variety, high hair, and pants that were very, very tight. I recall that this was very exciting stuff back then. Sometimes the pants were those stretchy-type jeans, and sometimes it was spandex.

Attitude-wise, dirtbags were tough and cursed a lot and they usually were not academics, although there were a few exceptions here and there. They usually all hung out with each other, and exclusively with each other, and they almost always smoked! Frankly, it wasn't until I was in college that I learned that there actually were smokers out there my age that weren't dirtbags. Almost all the people I knew in high school who smoked were dirtbags.

Dirtbags usually were kind of outcasts and considered by teachers and such to be misfits, but I found most of them, particularly the girls, to be very approachable and amicable.

I kind of liked dirtbags. I was sort of a wanna-be dirtbag, because I dug Iron Maiden, Judas Priest, and Finger's Metal Shop, and I was always fighting parental pressure to cut my hair. But I was never a real dirtbag, because I abhorred smoking and I kind of cared about doing well in school. I would have no cred with the real dirtbags, but I found them much more to my liking than other social cliques like the jocks and the preps, who, like the dirtbags, I kind of saw as my adversaries.

And before we go, a word about Iron Maiden...

Have you ever heard the song, "Teenage Dirtbag?" When I first heard that tune, I was floored, because the line, "I'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby," caught my ear, but the next line was so apropos: "I listen to Iron Maiden, baby!" And it was at that point that I was not at all surprised to learn that the song's composer was from Long Island. That guy GOT IT! He knew. Listening to Iron Maiden was almost like the most common unifier among all dirtbags. It was like the soundtrack to the dirtbag bible or something. Dirtbags used to sometimes double-up on the Maiden, wearing their "Aces High" t-shirt and smothering it with their denim jacket with the "Live After Death" album cover on the back.

I think this sums it up well... I was on my bike listening to my Walkman one fine day in 10th grade when I stopped and found myself chatting with someone I can't remember and someone they knew, and this guy was a notorious dirtbag. A real "drop out of school when I turn 16" kind of guy! He looked at me and asked, "What are you listening to?"

"Children of the Damned," I replied, saying nothing more then those four words

Now, that's not a band. That's a song, and not even a single or anything like that. That was an album track. Normally you'd reply by giving the name of the band, but I knew it was absolutely unnecessary to do that. He would know. He would know that I was referring to, "Children of the Damned," the second track on side one of the seminal (metal-heads like that word) 1982 Number of the Beast album, between "Invaders" and "Prisoner." I knew he would know that.

And he did. And he was pleased. And so was I.

posted by Steve @ 2:07 PM