Friday, September 25, 2009

Malaise

I need to write more.
This is an official, ref with a whistle, fact.
Writing allows me some sort of relief from my mundane existence, although I imagine my problems amount to the same as every one else's mundance existence.
No money? Me neither.
Work at a job that makes you want to smash your head in with a watermelon like Gallagher? Join the club, brother.
My only problem is that instead of taking out my frustration on other people or yelling like a normal human being, I bottle it all up. That's how I roll. And yes, I'm aware that this is unhealthy. So I take to the keyboard and tell some jokes or stir up a spirited debate, it's how I'm wired. I find solace in solving other problems and mysteries of life, while my laundry list of complaints hang out on the line to dry. Welcome to the land of Rey. It ain't Oz.
For instance, a mystery that is completely unrelated to me is this:
Why don't more people worship The Replacements? (The band, not the movie. Wasn't sure if that warranted clarification.)
Anyways, what's the deal with that? Paul Westerberg is arguably one of the greatest songwriters of the last quarter century and he also makes me feel like he is talking about my life in a way that not very many musicians do. Take a great love song like "Can't Hardly Wait". The lyrics remind you of every first date or love of your life that you've had, and the bass line gets stuck in your head the instant that it starts. Plus, it doesn't hurt that there is an entire movie based around this song. Cue Ethan Embry's face. Or Jennifer Hewitt's boobs. Your pick.
I guess my solution to this problem is to tell you to download their greatest hits and if you like the songs (WHEN you like the songs!), go find some of their albums - like Pleased to Meet Me, and listen to them. Repeatedly. Especially if you've had a crappy day. They make me feel better about myself and I think they might do the same for you.
Now that I've addressed a problem that has nothing to do with me, I feel a little bit better. See, that's a healthy vent. Take that Dr. Phil.

El Rey