I admit it. There’s something about Taylor Swift I like. Yes, I’ve seen her perform live on TV and well, no comment. But, you can’t deny that she’s cute. All 90 pounds of her with that thar sparkly guitar. As a woman who was once a 90-pounder (without a sparkly guitar), I appreciate those stick-figure legs in some sort of a kindred-spirit kind of way.
Her songs are 90-pound sparkly, too. You know. Light weight and a little fun. Not really flashy, though.
But here’s what I admire most. Her willingness to tell someone what she thinks of them in a song.
I would never do that.
Well, I’m not a songwriter, but that’s not the point.
I’m pretty sure I would be ashamed to memorialize my rancid feelings for an individual by committing them to song bytes or bits, or whatever MP3, 4 or 25 format du jour. For one thing, because it’s always my hope that
(A) the feelings will pass and I’ll forgive my foes their short-comings and will have gone to reconciliation seeking forgiveness for my own. (Then wouldn’t THAT be awkward when my mega-hit record came out?)
(B) that no one would ever see me as the bitter person I secretly am. (I’m not really bitter at all. I just occasionally have bitter feelings that bum me out.)
So, like Miss Taylor, every now and then, I yearn to dish out just one swift kick. And today is just one of those days.