Y.P.R.: Dust in the Wind

Friday, July 19, 2002 | Fruit Salad

Dust in the Wind

by Geoff Wolinetz

The ethereal words from a rock group known only as Kansas. Other than rocking the strings off of their guitars with their seminal hit, "Carry On Wayward Son," Kansas addresses the ephemeral nature of our existence in their classic, "Dust In The Wind." How could these men, Kerry, Steve, Phil and the other boys, produce such a wonderfully incisive piece of work? Especially when you take into account that they grew up in Kansas. It seems to me this was the most clever thing to come out of Kansas since Bob Dole. I mean no offense to Bob Dole. Bob Dole is a dear friend of mine. Despite being decades my senior, Bob Dole and I would sit on the faded wooden porch of his Kansas home and shake our fists at the passing teenagers. "You youngsters are going to ruin this country," we’d shout, all crotchety and affected. Afterwards, we’d huff gasoline fumes and run around completely naked, telling his wife Elizabeth that we were going crazy like a "Chinaman at an opium festival." For fun, I’d take Bob Dole’s pen from his injured hand and start screaming, "I’m Bob Dole how to run things. Bob Dole has a small penis." Oh, we had a lot of fun. I digress.

Another dear friend of mine was my maternal grandfather, Eazy-E. Here now, my eulogy to one of my role models and best friends growing up, Grandpa E.

Dear friends, thank you all for coming. This is the way Grandpa E would have wanted it, his compatriots from N.W.A in the house, his peeps from Ruthless Records in the house, all of his brothers, sisters, children and bitches here to honor him in this most upsetting time. While it may have seemed as though Grandpa E supported the negative lifestyle he espoused in his "gangsta rap," he was no animal, no criminal. Grandpa E sought to educate the public, to rail off against the dangers of growing up in the ghetto. And Grandpa E knew all of that. Sure, he sold drugs to school children, carried concealed weapons, spent a lot of time before judges and had seven children with six different women, but that was just Grandpa E being Grandpa E. He had an interminable spirit and that may be what I miss most about him.

I remember this one time, Grandpa E and I had just finished pulling a couple of wicked tubes of this really good shit and we were just sitting around, drinking 40s and talking. We did that a lot. We used to have these huge philosophical debates. One of them he turned into a song called, "Gangsta Gangsta," off 1988’s Straight Outta Compton. "Gangsta, Gangsta! That’s what they’re yellin ‘It’s not about a salary, it’s all about reality’ —K.R.S.-One Gangsta, Gangsta! That’s what they’re yellin ‘Hopin you sophisticated motherfuckers hear what I have to say.’ Do you sophisticated motherfuckers hear what I have to say?

Anyway, I hope you all remember Grandpa E fondly. I have the legacy through family, my many half-uncles and aunts, cousins and my mama. As for me personally, I choose to remember the good times, the endless supply of free drugs and by these words, "Wolinetz, you one talented S.O.B., just like your Grandpa E. Use that shit right. Don’t take advantage of nothin’, or no one. You one of the good ones." R.I.P., Grandpa E. Mourn you ’til I join you. Peace out.

Geoff Wolinetz cannot be found on IMDb because the Hollywood community refuses to acknowledge the production of his seminal masterpiece Come What May, a gritty psychothriller starring a guy who kind of looks like Billy Baldwin and Erin Gray (formerly of "Silver Spoons"). If he were to be found on IMDb, his name would fall between "Geoff Witcher" and "Geoff Wood." In addition to his imaginary film career, Geoff also maintains an imaginary career as a baron of industry, is lead singer of the imaginary band Kick Ass, Falco, holds an imaginary Olympic gold medal and is an imaginary Pulitzer laureate in the field of journalism for his investigative piece on the albinos of Alaska.