Ongoing Horror

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   What a wonderful segue; from the Air Guitar circle to the Genecide circle.
Our twitchy 'all eyes on me' flailing super-hero has been replaced by the uncomfortably numb cross-legged sage. They both obey the common rule of 'no dancing allowed' but the attachment to the music has taken a subtle shift. Invisible instruments begone! Now it's all about the lyrics man.
The Grove flirted with Genesis, but like a girl on a first date, Cecil
would give out enough to keep you coming back, but not enough to make your night. The shame of Genesis is, of course, is that it's like making a curry. It begins with all the mysterious ingredients and many shy away from all those odd spices. Then it starts to evolve into what looks like a stew and the aroma calms. It finally gets too damn watered down, and when it finally gets glopped over the rice, you might as well just have opened a can and wung it into the microwave. So, to say one is/was a Genesis fan is misleading. One must identify era.
If your hair parted down your nose like a curtain, revealing a red-eyed
Emporer Palpatine with that "You could never understand what I understand" look - then you are/were Level1. You knew that Like it or not, that's what you got, you're under the soil, the soil, the soil, yes - deep in the soil.
If you wore cowboy boots and read at least one Eastern Philosophy tome by 1973, then you were still roaming about pissing your parents off at Level2. You wanted to know constantly where your country lies, and grumbled through breakfast saying I am what I eat. By the following year you were in the Grove, but Genesis hadn't made it in yet. You were completely convinced that if Jesus came to
Earth, Lamb Lies Down is the record he would choose to play. The range of emotions on those two disks could not be comprehended by your Mom or Dad, so clearly you could only play this stuff when they were not around.
Then the curry started going horribly wrong. After the musical chairs game ended, Genesis 45s started appearing, and that meant two things. 1. Songs got airtime on the radio and the Grove, and 2. the band was slowly headed for the great annihilator - TOTP. Your girlfriend would say how much she loved 'Ripples' and 'Your own special way', and would wreck your world by buying you a copy of  
Wind/Wuthering for Christmas. After you broke up in January, you were contemplating resigning from the "G" club, but you kept going to the Grove anyway. Genesis had now been relegated to the slow dance set. Right there, you had the problem in a nutshell; You were "dancing" to Genesis. That was a disturbance in the force.
By the time Hackett hoofed off to work with a dude with an even bigger drumkit than Collins, you knew the jig was up. I think the stake went through the heart with Follow You, Follow Me, but that's just my opinion. Thereafter, there were more Genesis "fans" than you could shake a drumstick at. The curry was DOA, you cringed when you saw the threesome on Telly. You turned to your Dad and said
'the next thing you know these morons will be selling beer commercials or doing frickin mowtown tunes".
I'm amused by young people (<30) identifying with Collins as just another Rod Stewart, Gabriel as a neat but quirky version of Bono, and Genesis as some 'old band from the 80s'. I guess I miss sitting in my living after the Grove at 2-3 AM; headphones on, eyes closed,
reciting those words that seemed to sum it up for me at the time. My father to the left of me, my mother to the right, like everyone else they're pointing, but nowhere feels quite right. 
Who's writing that kinda stuff anymore.....