Wednesday, April 27, 2005

Name That Tune

At school, I ride a shuttle almost everyday. While it is certainly a convenient method of traversing campus, it varies as to just how enjoyable a trip it may or may not be. For example, I was recently stuck listening to country music for a good four or five minutes as I awaited my destination. Drivers often listen to the radio as they make their rounds, but I think there should be a rule against country music. It seems to stand in strict opposition to the purpose of the university—namely, to increase one’s intellect. But this week more than made up for it. As I climbed aboard the Blue the other day (the routes are color-coded, lest you’re confused), the driver was playing a Barenaked Ladies CD. That’s right, my very favorite band. It wasn’t that a BNL song just happened to be on the radio at that moment; there was an actual succession of certified BNL gems streaming out of the shuttle’s shoddy, static-ridden speakers. “Hey, I know this! I know this album! I own this album! I can tell you what album it is!” So the thoughts came to me as I sat in silence, lightly tapping my toes and pretending to keep my cool. Meanwhile, my mind was swallowed up in the dark clouds of a fierce brainstorm. How could I let the driver know that I know what CD he is playing, while avoiding looking like a dork who’s only purpose is to let the driver know that I know what CD he is playing? Hmmm. In the end, I said nothing. I did nothing. I thought about tossing a casual remark his way as I stepped off the bus, something like, “That’s a great album,” or, “BNL rock the house,” or whatnot. But what would he care? And yet it was somehow painful to just walk away from it all, like I had spotted my favorite celebrity and, despite the rarity of such an occasion, forced myself not to cause a disturbance. What would be the point, after all?

Well, the next morning, I was again on the shuttle. The driver (not my co-BNL fan) was listening to the radio, and Pink Floyd’s “Another Brick in the Wall, Pt. 2” was playing. While most people are familiar with the schoolchildren chant that is this song’s chorus (“We don’t need no education…”), one woman on the bus felt compelled to perform an exaggerated lip-sync of the song. Though she pretended not to vie for anyone’s attention, her painfully pronounced facial gestures suggested she was auditioning for someone to notice. I admit, I was slightly annoyed, but was there any difference between what she was doing and what I had wanted to do? Unfortunately, probably not.

Since then, I’ve been thinking about this a bit. Why do we have this natural impulse to disclose our tastes in art (including music, books, movies, etc.) to those whom we believe share in them? Are we merely seeking validation? Or is being understood such a rare commodity that finding someone who shares your interests is like finding a soulmate? I tend to lean toward the latter. When the bus driver was listening to a CD I loved, it was like an immediate intimacy existed between us, even though he never knew about it. The point was, he must have, on some level, understood and felt about something the same way I did. Rarely does someone else come so close to seeing the world through our own eyes (or, perhaps more appropriately, hearing the world through our own ears). When it happens, it’s exciting. It seems different with art than anything else, such as the mere sharing of an opinion. Art is emotional and personal. Thus, our similarities are emotional and personal ones. To know someone shares your taste in art more readily makes that person your emotional kin, something that even common opinions (however fervent) cannot do, at least not so quickly. And this is probably why being insulted when it comes to artistic tastes is a much greater slap in the face. It’s like discrediting someone’s emotions and personality.

So, um … to all country music fans reading this post, I hope you’ll accept my apology. I’m sorry.

11 comments:

  1. I can tell, you're not sorry in the least. No apology is better than an insincere apology. Good thing I'm not a country music fan. I would be hurt.

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  2. Buffalo, I agree with you. My post began with a bit of harsh sarcasm, but by the end, I sincerely felt concerned that country music fans would take it too seriously. My family is chock full of such fans (to my dismay), so I can guarantee you I meant no harm. I even thought about going back and removing the bit about country music, but I felt that would somehow lack integrity.

    So, let it be known that my apology was sincere, albeit stated in a somewhat sarcastic tone. This was merely to fit the mood of the post. If anyone has been hurt by my comments, rest assured that I can just as easily be mocked for my musical tastes. To give just one example, my CD collection contains not one, but two Spice Girls albums. Feel better? You should.

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  3. For the record- the country music I've been listening to IS more like Christian rock. And I AM hurt!

    Now, back to original question. You said what I was thinking, but of course more eloquently. I think it has to do with finding someone possibly cut from the same stone, or at least containing a bit of the same clay. And that is rare and treasured by most people, at least the intelligent ones not yet dulled by country music.

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  4. The magic of art is that it can make so many people have so many different interpretations yet end up having the same emotional or rather spiritual response. Is that not magic? It is religion!

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  5. BTW, my belief of country music dulling the senses has nothing to do with any of you, it's just what it does to me...

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  6. This has been an interesting thread. There's a few philosophical ideas being played out here.

    One that's interesting to me is Benny's statement that it would seem to lack integrity to go back and change what he wrote. This does seem to be the way of blog culture. I shamelessly edit and re-edit my posts until I feel it really says what I want to say. Occasionally I'll even make an edit months later. Why shouldn't I always strive for better? But it does seem like in the blog world this is almost unethical (I discuss this a bit in my blogger profile). What if books were written this way, where the first draft could not be changed because doing so would cut the link between the readers' and writer's minds? It would be a messed up world indeed. I realize blogs are different than books, its just interesting to me how strict we are about what they should be.

    But I think I see what Benny is getting at here. He was writing about how much he disliked the country music, and gradually his view changed a bit while he was writing; hence the apology at the end, which I think really is sincere. I don't think he likes country music any more than before, but perhaps recognizes that there's room for others to like it. Sure, he could have gone back and changed the beginning, but then he wouldn't have captured the evolution of attitude that occured as he wrote.

    All that said, though, I don't think there's anything wrong with what he said. Do only nice affirming opinions matter? Why shouldn't we be vocal about what we think about things, even the things we don't like. He didn't attack a person (except maybe the bus driver... who is anonymous enough to be nearly hypothetical), he attacked a genre of music, that, frankly, does open itself up to ridicule (don't get me wrong, I actually like it, but still often cringe at its cheeziness... nothing wrong with a little cheeze, but come on, lets come clean with admitting that its there!)

    I do disagree wholeheartedly with the old twangy twang versus new country though. Most of the new stuff is garbage in my opinion... its just bad pop music, with steel guitar added and whatever else you do to make country country. The old stuff is where its at, as found in the movie "O Brother Where Art Though", a movie created to show the general public where country came from (and perhaps should have stayed). A must see.

    Hmmm... this got long, sorry about that. (ok, I'm not really sorry, true). :)

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  7. Hmm, I also notice in re-reading that the country music thing was a very small part of what the post was getting at. Anyway, just wanted to add, Benny, it would have been totally cool to tell the driver how much you liked the music! Maybe you'll get another chance soon... it would make his day! (On the other hand, prolly shouldn't tell the country ones how much you hate that) ;)

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  8. AndyOfVermont to the rescue! Thanks, Andy, for understanding me. You understood the "integrity" thing dead on. I'm not against editing things, even blogs, but in this instance it would have seemed like presenting a half-truth of my thought process. I am against editing a "real" journal, however, which is something I've been tempted to do in the past (from embarrassment or what have you). That would seem dishonest, as journals are meant to reflect the person at the moment they are writing, not any other time. Do you agree with this?

    "O Brother Where Art Thou?" is a great movie, by the way. I own it and--don't tell anyone--I like the music! It really just depends on the particular song in question. Nevertheless, my general thought when it comes to country is as stated previously -- barf! This is so generally my opinion that I feel no qualms making a bold blanket statement out of it. As for anyone who doesn't like it, sue me! (And Andy, you can defend me in court....)

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  9. I do agree with not editing a real journal. I guess what I really don't like is the idea that blog should be a real journal. If it was _really_ a real journal, you wouldn't want anyone to see it. So you end up with a lot of blah blah. Well, my blog is blah blah too, I just try to keep the blah entertaining ;)

    Keep the posts coming, and dont' listen to me, make your blog YOUR blog.

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  10. First thing I do in a new friend's house (as soon as it's appropriate) is check out their library and their record/CD collection. After a quick scan I feel like I know the person a lot better than I did before. Our tastes are who we are -- they're what separate us from the monkeys, for pete's sake!

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  11. You ain't lived until you're sitting in a smokey dive, drinking straight shots of Black Jack and Chasing them with Jack and Water; feeling low enough to walk under a snake's belly with a top hat on after finding out your woman is doing your worst enemy. And Hank Williams Sr. is belting out YOUR CHEATING HEART on the juke.
    Yeah, that's good stuff.

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