I was driving to improv practice and a certain song came on the radio. Now, this song is not typically embraced by most males- that are straight. Anyway, it got me thinking about the little things in life that bring us joy in such an embarassing manner that we are bewildered by the pleasure. I don't know why I like it but I do. We all have them. Some of us like to share in the humility a guilty pleasure allows.
With the world of music there is one song that I have such an afixiation over that I can't help. The song is (I am sure other men have a concealed appreciation.) Madona's "Like a Prayer." I find the song to be such an upbeat display of irony that lasts near six minutes. A tramp named (by herself mind you) after the virgin mother, sings a song of love/desire by drawing a parallel to prayer. Then throw in the images of the music video. Turns out Madona sees Jesus as a black man, which is crazy since Jesus spent his life in the middle east thus is caucasian as they come. Sorry NAACP. The logic of the Vatican triumphs once again. She then covets a statue of the black Jesus. Their love affair is forbidden so she must watch him locked in a chapel while she dances around a field with burning crosses. I am pretty sure he was digging her until her saw poor taste in ambient lighting. There is even a choir involved somewhere, which is always a winner. Better yet a children's choir would have probably saved her Pepsi deal.
Starbucks. I am most ashamed of this occurence. There is one at Piper's Alley so during break I go spend $6 on coffee and cinnamon swirl coffee cake- reduced fat of course. There is something special about being in a Starbucks. I am compelled to speak ignorantly about politics and the economy. It is my duty as a patron of the robust regime to take conversation out of context and ellaborate on the severity of such dialogue. If there was a battle between Starbucks and Oprah I don't know who would come out on top. Well my money would be pulling for the Chilean espresso over any book club.
My new tv guilty pleasure may be premature to declare. However if it lasts then I may be very well hooked for a long time. It has been years since we have watched such angst between young people while they battle internal demons to become the upstanding person they can be. Move over Dawson, Joey, and Pacey. Here comes Jack and Bobby the new WB drama. I honestly like the concept of witnessing the youth of an American President. Tie it in with the melodrama that would rival any Lifetime program and you have a television gold. Gold I say!
When creating your personal Xanadu, the columns look classy. Just keep in mind that a few lawn ornaments will keep you grounded with the rest of the mortals.