Guilty Pleasures

I know that I do not have spectacular taste in music, but I also well aware that it is not awful. It is a happy medium between the latest Justin Timberlake release without having any N*SYNC.

Now, I will say that there is an abundance of Tori Amos- and her particular brand of overly-emotive, piano-heavy tragically nonsensical music is not for everyone. Indeed, when I am with friends and the music is on random and a Tori song starts, I have the sense to apologize profusely and quickly change it before they hear the such wonderful Tori phrases as “star-fucker, just like my daddy”, “Colonel Dirty-fishy-dishcloth”, or one of my favorites “give me peace love and a hard cock”.

In other words- I get it. I get the social convention that I should be embarrassed when something is embarrassing. I was raised in a normal Catholic household that encouraged/bred a feeling of guilt when appropriate. And it is always appropriate.

How than, can others not feel this. I am sitting in the Operating Room now, working on a ladies new breasts, and the surgeon is listening to God awful music and IS NOT EMBARRASSED. What the eff??
Now, God awful may be a bit harsh- I mean, it is not Lawrence Welk shit. No, it is Top 40 hits. Let me explain. I want to make my feelings painfully clear to you.

The Top 40 hits do not necessarily register the best music made at the moment and it certainly does not rank artists that are origional, creative or have lyrics that make my heart hurt. Billboard instead, has its finger on the pulse of your average tween. This is a 40 year old man, with a wife and one year old child. How then does this surgeon feel it is appropriate to not only love this type of music but play it proudly in the Operating Room where can sing along and hum? This is a mix that includes Nelly Furtado, Katy Perry, Lady Gaga, Miley Cyrus, Avril Lavigne, JoJo and some Taylor Swift. At any moment, I was expecting music from the High School Musical soundtrack to come blasting out of his docking station.

This story gets better…I came in apparently at the end of this particular playlist. As I heard the silence following the final song, I politely asked “is there another playlist you want to put on” and I walk over to the iPod, hopeful that he would change. No, dear reader. Instead, he says “you can play the same one over from the beginning”. Lucky me.

So I went over to the iPod, cursing under my breath. I politely asked what the list was called since the machine had reset itself after the playlist completed. “It is called “BEST”‘. He said that with complete conviction, as if the very idea that it was anything else was musical blasphemy.

I selected the list of cacophonous atrocities and listened with impatience…

Sure, there may have been one or two songs that I sang along to, who can resist the urge to sing the phrase “if you like it then you should have put a ring on it”? No one. No one can resist it. But I refuse to discuss taking a Louisville slugger to both headlights unless I am drunk and in a Karaoke booth. I just could not understand how unabashedly the doctor clung to his music. He was so sure….so unapologetic…unrelenting in his taste.

I was at a friend’s house and she added Britney Spear’s latest songs from the album “The Circus” to our playlist- but as she did so, she admitted that they were trashy and Britney was a hot mess and she was almost abashed at admitting allegiance to the fallen pop sensation. Is this the way it is? Will me and my friends forever apologize for the songs that are so stupid that they are secretly awesome?

So go ahead, doctor, play your favorite playlist, the ‘BEST” that music has to offer, I just ask that you do it in a way that fits your music taste. So get into your car and drive down the freeway to your nearest Abercromie & Fitch, singing these Billboard classics at the top of your lungs with the windows tinted and all the way up.


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