…no one is stopping you.
I got into a heated discussion today about the Superbowl halftime show. My adversary praised Bruno Mars’ performance, calling it classy, while assigning The Red Hot Chili Peppers to the trash dump. It wasn’t the Peppers best performance, but they got to play only one of their songs. In my opinion Bruno Mars is the epitome of sappy, safe, vanilla pop, and I knew it was going to be that way as soon as I heard his uninspired, eighth-note, amateur rock groove drum solo.
I’m an anomaly among my age group (I won’t say my age, but will say I saw Black Sabbath when Ozzy could still walk). I just don’t fit in with people who seem content just going through the motions and waiting to die. It seems that a lot of people my age (and even younger) are content to work, eat, and plop down in front of the TV every night. Occasionally they’ll go to some aging boomer concert and the local Olive Garden for the early bird special…and most despise anything fresh or new or different (that goes further than musical taste, that bigotry is at the root of most of the problems in this country, but that’s a different rant).
I’m twenty six in my head…I’ve never aged past that. I love new and experimental music. I applaud anything that attempts to be unique. I enjoy finding out-of-the way restaurants and venues. I attend concerts where the next oldest person might be in their thirties. I explore, I journey. I live.
In short, if it’s different, diverse, mind expanding, adventurous, or risky, then count me in. I leave you with this quote:
“Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways – Chardonnay in one hand – chocolate in the other – body thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and screaming “WOO HOO, What a Ride!”