Under a Rock

I was spent Friday afternoon following class at USM. The long week of trying to write marketing collateral, hitting an article deadline, a return to tutoring, and then, sitting through my nearly three-hour-long history class, pushed me past my energy tipping point.

Back home, waiting for Mary to arrive from work and thinking about what to make for dinner, I flicked on the television. Five minutes of politics was enough. For whatever reason, I changed the channel to a music station and on my screen was a young woman who could easily have been one of the students I’ve been spending time with tutoring and subbing. Except that she was in a “strange” video; blood was dripping from her nose and she appeared in outfits ranging from a white uniform, to yellow sweat suit, all the while commencing to sing about “bad guys and tough guys.” The video was jarring enough to keep me there, watching the song called, “Bad Guy.”

Saturday, sitting in the Lee’s Tire waiting room while getting my snow tires swapped-out for summer treads, I happened to be paging through the Arts & Leisure section of the New York Times: Who was looking back at me from page 17? The face of Billie Eilish, the young woman from Friday’s video, which commences with Eilish saying, “I’ve taken out my Invisalgn.”

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Grammy Who?

While I’ve never been a “dedicated follower of fashion,” as The Kinks sang, especially when it involved Top 40, mainstream pop, I somehow managed to cling to some sense of who the kinds of people were that garnered Grammys. Until this year.

The unbearable whiteness that is Taylor Swift. (Photo: Robert Hanashiro/USA Today)

The unbearable whiteness that’s Taylor Swift. (Photo: Robert Hanashiro/USA Today)

I guess that officially pushes me up and over the threshold of relevance, right? Actually, I do know who Taylor Swift is, so maybe I get a reprieve from getting shoved into the trash bin. Possibly that admission probably means that I need to check my white privilege.

My penchant has been for music that went against the grain, or wasn’t trying too hard to be fashionable. In high school it was The Dead Kennedys. I coped with my post-fundamentalist years stranded in Indiana, surrounded with a soundtrack that was weighted towards punk and industrial music; Black Flag and Ministry come to mind.  Hit singles never really captured my fancy. Continue reading