Confessions of a Fanboy

Have you ever had one of those shitty days? It’s happened to me. Take today, for instance.

You see, I’m no more special than any of the rest of you assholes. That’s why, when I bitch about a bad day, it doesn’t come in the “why me” format. Everybody gets shit on sometimes. Didn’t Michael Stipe say that? Anyway, we all get ours from time to time. It’s going to happen. You’re going to get fucked with. Deal with it.

Yeah, well, it’s that last step I haven’t quite mastered. I tend to get all bent out of shape and fly all over everyone in my path and it’s only after I’ve gone apoplectic I realize what an ass I’ve made of myself. No matter how many times I go through this, and you could say it has happened once or twice, it always seems to end the same. Once I’ve gone apoplectic and realize I’ve made an ass of myself, I get down on myself and feel… like an ass. This is the pattern. Don’t look at me like that. I’ve never claimed to be a grown up, and it’s not like you don’t still have the occasional meltdown.

What I like to do in situations like this is retail therapy. I like to go buy new CDs. My lack of self-esteem and the corresponding lack of self-control has built a damn good music library. I guess I’ve also bought a couple of these CDs because I like music. I couldn’t tell you the actual ratio. Besides, it’s not payday today so retail therapy is out. Good thing I’ve spent all that money on other CDs as a backup.

Enter: Ganging Up on the Sun, my choice for Album of the Year, 2006.

Sometimes I reach for an album because it reflects my mood. Other times I reach for an album or song because of the pure joy that comes from listening to it. GUOTS can be either. There are times when its songs do fit my mood. It is also a a record so great, so magnificent, so magical that it distracts me from my troubles. That’s a good kind of record to have around, don’t you think?

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