Oh for heaven's sake! I seriously don't understand teenagers. I know I'm only 25 and I was one of them a few short years ago, but I didn't understand them then, either.
The reason I bring it up is that I have a friend at work who is barely 18. Her ever-so-slightly-older boyfriend treats her like crap. I've spent a decent chunk of my time lately trying to convince her to dump his sorry butt. She was seriously considering it until today when he sent her a song he wrote for her. A SONG. It's supposed to be one of those sappy love ballads. I read it and can say with all certainty that it is truly awful. Here is an unretouched excerpt (as background, I should mention that he's in the Army): "Why'd you do it man? Why'd you go? I guess to serve my country and make some dough."
She completely swooned over it.
Wow.
Here's the thing that really irritates me... it's not that she wants to stay with her idiot boyfriend or that she was happy that he did something thoughtful for a change. It's the fact that kids these days seem to think that as long as they have a guitar and understand the word "emotion" they're somehow capable of writing music!
Here is an unretouched excerpt of something a kid like this would say: "Ooooh. I'm filled with ANGST oversomething that no one cares about. I think I'll write a song."
Newsflash, kiddos- We don't want your songs. They suck.
Granted, there are some kids who are gifted. Some people can start at a very young age and produce something beautiful. Beethoven was 4 when he started composing. However, most of us are not like that. We're average. And we definitely should NOT be writing songs.
Why is being a musician or an actor such a big deal to these kids anyway? Why is that the end-all, beat-all answer to life's problems? How did THAT become the dream? When I was that age, I wanted to be the first female President of the United States. I mean, come ON, kids! Have a dream that helps out the rest of the world! Yes, you could be Angelina Jolie and adopt a bazillion African babies, but the likelihood of that is pretty slim.
So come up with a new dream. Be an accountant. A bus driver. A lawyer. ANYTHING but a musician. If not for you, do it for the rest of the world. Save our ears from awful lyrics.
Oh, and if I hurt your feelings, I'll apologize personally... if it will keep you from writing another song.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Monday, October 4, 2010
Give Me The Gas
You know those crazy lamps at the dentist office that shine light right into your eyeballs while you're teeth are being drilled, just adding another level of pain to your experience? Well, today I named one. Her name is Patty.
I've been making rather constant trips to the dentist lately to have old fillings repaired. Like any normal human being, I'm not a big fan of the dentist office. They give you foul-tasting drugs, make you hold your mouth open wider than you thought you could for longer than you thought possible, and you always leave with the sour taste of tooth dust in your mouth.
There is one good thing about that place, though... nitrous oxide.
Once they put that little tube over my face, I was in heaven. I totally calmed down, and I swear that I was more centered than I ever have been in my LIFE. No kidding. When I sat and just focused on one thing, like the music I was listening to, I was able to get so much more out of it than I normally do. I feel like I understand the way musicians hear music a little more now. I felt every beat running through my body and the passion in every note.
I am not joking when I say that, at one point, I was lip syncing "Bohemian Rhapsody" into Patty. I'm pretty sure the dental assistant caught me, but she didn't say anything. Then I had to play it cool. I sat there and pretended like I didn't feel a thing. I felt like it was a pretty good con, but looking back, she must have known. I think that the big old grin on my face... the kind kids get when they go to Disneyland for the first time... may have given me away.
No matter. Patty and I still had a chance to bond. So even though half of my mouth is still dead, it was a good trip.
I've been making rather constant trips to the dentist lately to have old fillings repaired. Like any normal human being, I'm not a big fan of the dentist office. They give you foul-tasting drugs, make you hold your mouth open wider than you thought you could for longer than you thought possible, and you always leave with the sour taste of tooth dust in your mouth.
There is one good thing about that place, though... nitrous oxide.
Once they put that little tube over my face, I was in heaven. I totally calmed down, and I swear that I was more centered than I ever have been in my LIFE. No kidding. When I sat and just focused on one thing, like the music I was listening to, I was able to get so much more out of it than I normally do. I feel like I understand the way musicians hear music a little more now. I felt every beat running through my body and the passion in every note.
I am not joking when I say that, at one point, I was lip syncing "Bohemian Rhapsody" into Patty. I'm pretty sure the dental assistant caught me, but she didn't say anything. Then I had to play it cool. I sat there and pretended like I didn't feel a thing. I felt like it was a pretty good con, but looking back, she must have known. I think that the big old grin on my face... the kind kids get when they go to Disneyland for the first time... may have given me away.
No matter. Patty and I still had a chance to bond. So even though half of my mouth is still dead, it was a good trip.
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