“I’m concerned”, I said to my psychiatrist as I looked down at my thumbs.
God, they’re some big ass fucking thumbs.
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 really hate the Arcade Fire. They're U2 for hipsters.
"Lighten up while you still can…" I love that song.
Loved the post.
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.
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?
Sorry! I should have guessed that you're a U2 fan as well.
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.
Hilarious post! I say, embrace your inner dork. It's what adulthood is all about!
Lets not forget TuPac sampled Bruce Hornsby. How gangsta is THAT?
The thumbs observation just killed me though. Perfect delivery. Love you.
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…?
YA MO BE THERE!
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 :/
For the record, I have nothing against the Eagles.
Your end quote…I love you.
This was quite fantastic.
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.
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.
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."