Thoughts On Gettin Slizzard

The other day while driving and listening to top40 radio (because, obviously) my passenger remarked that he'd never met anyone who knew the words to every song that came on. Verse and Chorus. To the End. In a Row. For the Entire Ride.

It's just something I've always been able to do. Kinda like Gina and her ability to tell Rex Manning he was wearing blue briefs.

So anyway, this song came on and while I could in fact sing all the words, instead I found myself speaking in a slavic accent for the rest of the day. Because, my friendlies, the following song is a perfect example of why Americans are sometimes just a little too ridiculous.



Now I'll be the first to admit that I love all things pop culture. In fact, some might argue I take the fascination a little too far. But even I'm embarassed for these people. It's like they knew they might only get one shot at making an awesome video, so they sent their production assistants out in a mad rush to include as many current trends as possible. iPad in the first 15 seconds? Check. Skinny ties and American Apparel? Check. Hipster sunglasses in primary colors, worn indoors? Check. And then they take it further still, insisting on lyrics that are basically a string of absurdities. When we drink we do it right gettin slizzard...now I'm feelin so fly like a G6?? There is only one line in the whole song that's even sort of passable as a sentence.

Oh America, I think you need a time out.

And the reason for my slavic accent? This is a fictitious but accurate depiction of the direct result of what happens when videos like this make their ways overseas.



I mean seriously, can't we create things just a little more inspired?

Some of my best memories are attached to music. I loved driving in the car listening to oldies, staring out the window at the scenery and knowing, even at a young age, what music could do to my emotions. Whenever I hear Don McLean or Frank Sinatra or Motown, a rush of comfort floods over me. It's those songs that will forever remind me of my Dad, dancing with me in my homemade poodle skirt at the Girl Scouts Daddy-Daughter dance.

And now, driving around listening to what's on the radio, I can't help but wonder what it will be like when my kids are in the backseat. Will they really feel the same flood of emotion if I turn on Lady Gaga or Jason DeRulo?

I don't know, maybe I should just go back to listening to "Dad Music".

Of course now I've played the song three times while writing this post. Let's face it, I'll probably buy it on iTunes.

Sarcastically yours,
h.