What a Fool Believes

“I’m concerned”, I said to my psychiatrist as I looked down at my thumbs.
God, they’re some big ass fucking thumbs.

“I’m concerned because I’m starting to like Michael McDonald and I’m not sure what to do.”

I don’t have a therapist.
However, I did at one point.
If I still had a therapist this would be the first thing I’d say to her as I sit down for my session.

It does concern me that I no longer have the distinct urge to rip my face off and sling it against a window when I hear Michael McDonald. Even worse, sometimes you’ll find me standing on a table, very enthusiastically shouting, “No, seriously guys, even the black folks think Darryl Hall is awesome.”

I want to know what this all means. Does it signify that I’m getting old? Does the moment you go from thinking, “Quick! “Saturday in the Park” is making my ears bleed” to “Hey, don’t change the station, I kind of dig Chicago” signify the immediate transition from young person into adult? Will Peter Cetera and Bruce Hornsby class=”Apple-style-span” style=”font-family: georgia;”> walk with me as I traverse this new territory into womanhood? The days of lying in bed, pretending to be stoned when I’m really not and listening to, like really listening to Arcade Fire will be replaced with candlelit hearty, but sensible dinners with a bearded man and Time Life Easy Listening CD collection. Pretentious and nonsensical statements like “Spencer Krug’s work on Sunset Rubdown appeared more inspired, more whimsical, than any of Wolf Parade’s ventures” turns into, “I prefer Steve Winwood’s solo works”. I’ll probably name my kid Rhiannon and she’ll grow up to think I have terrible taste in music. Just like how I’d shake my head and slam my door shut the second C, S, N, & Y’s Greatest Hits came on the household stereo.


I don’t want to become an adult! I’m perfectly happy thinking that liking David Byrne since I was thirteen years old makes me evolutionarily superior to everyone else! I want to keep walking through my life like I’m the subject of an Ipod commercial.


“How do I stop this? How do I stop myself from growing up?” I’d ask my fictional therapist.
“You can’t,” she’d laugh, “Just take it easy. Don’t let the sound of your own wheels drive you crazy.”
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  • Reply Mr London Street September 16, 2009 at 7:57 pm

    I really hate the Arcade Fire. They're U2 for hipsters.

  • Reply Amanda West September 16, 2009 at 9:14 pm

    "Lighten up while you still can…" I love that song.

    Loved the post.

  • Reply Angie September 16, 2009 at 10:02 pm

    When I was 7 I found my dad's Chicago album, put it on, and fell in love. SEVEN YEARS OLD and I was singing "Saturday in the Park" and "Does anybody really know what time it is?"

    That's effed up. But I still love Chicago.

  • Reply That Chelsea Girl™ September 16, 2009 at 11:11 pm

    Oh, goodness…Eagles.

  • Reply Hipstercrite September 16, 2009 at 11:28 pm

    Mr. London Street- Shut yo mouth!

    Amanda- Thanks for the comment!

    Angie- Yes, that is very effed up. 😉

    That Chelsea Girl- What, you don't like The Eagles?

  • Reply Mr London Street September 16, 2009 at 11:45 pm

    Sorry! I should have guessed that you're a U2 fan as well.

  • Reply Tennyson ee Hemingway September 17, 2009 at 12:14 am

    I like Michael McDonald. But I've liked him since I was 13. Taste in music doesn't really signify anything. I used to be so into whatever was 'indie' once upon a time but now I find I can like something about pretty much anything. It doesn't mean I don't have my preferences though.

  • Reply M.E. September 17, 2009 at 1:08 am

    Hilarious post! I say, embrace your inner dork. It's what adulthood is all about!

  • Reply Polly Syllabick September 17, 2009 at 2:02 am

    Lets not forget TuPac sampled Bruce Hornsby. How gangsta is THAT?

    The thumbs observation just killed me though. Perfect delivery. Love you.

  • Reply Damian September 18, 2009 at 4:45 am

    My old college roommate's uncle is the original trumpet player for Chicago.

    So… are we dating now or… should I just wait for you to call me or…?

  • Reply Molly Lambert September 19, 2009 at 1:10 am


  • Reply Stephanie September 19, 2009 at 3:37 pm

    I've got horredous taste in music according to others. I love the old lady tunes and my lousy record collection. I don't know how I know all these songs either…a 28 year old black girl/woman? singing Christopher Cross!? I've got it bad :/

  • Reply That Chelsea Girl™ December 14, 2009 at 3:26 pm

    For the record, I have nothing against the Eagles.

  • Reply Hannah Miet December 14, 2009 at 4:57 pm

    Your end quote…I love you.

    This was quite fantastic.

  • Reply Maria Elise December 17, 2009 at 6:15 am

    If you ever figure out how to prevent the onset of that whole adulthood thing-y….would you please let me know? I have a birthday coming up shortly.

    Hysterical post….thx!

  • Reply Ian Morales December 17, 2009 at 11:48 pm

    Own your adulthood and slap people in the face with your guilty pleasures any chance you get. I too am supposed to be an adult but can't stop listening to Paramore. I'm still considered young by many (still in 20s technically) and can't get enough of that Ziggy Stardust Bowie.

  • Reply Benny Paul December 19, 2009 at 2:35 am

    I still have not succumbed to the vocal stylings of Michael McDonald, but I'm pretty sure my cred disappeared the day I found myself listening to the entirety of Paul McCartney's "London Town."

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