This past summer's Warped Tour at Pompano Beach Amphitheatre was an educational opportunity for South Florida's mall-punk horde. On the main stage stood Good Charlotte -- a poppy schmaltz amalgam of wretched MTV punque lite. One hundred yards away on the amphitheater stage stood the Casualties, a tribe of Aquanet warriors still fighting the good liberty-spiked fight. Any self-respecting father would have pointed this out and given the following lecture: "Pay attention, kids. That's what punk rockers looked like when Daddy was your age. They wore their hair like roosters, put safety pins through their noses, and patched up their homemade ripped T-shirts! Whoa! I can smell them from here -- I guess some things don't change! That's why Daddy wants you to stop going to the skate park and get good grades so you can finish school and become a lawyer!"
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