As I remember this scene in the cold light of day, I find it disturbing. Not because of my farting dog. (She's getting up in years and farts all the time. It reminds me of my mom and I find it kind of comforting.) It wasn't because I was drinking alone. Again. And it wasn't because I should have been decorating the tree but wasn't.
No, the disturbing thing was that I enjoyed listening to a Coldplay song. This isn't me. I prefer the growling of Breaking Benjamin, the clamor of NIN, the whine of Evanescence and screaming along with Psychostick. Am I mellowing out? Losing my anger? Acting my age?! Will I start wearing my reading glasses on a thing around my neck now?! That last thought scares the shit out of me.
Behold my future. It's not pretty.
Seems to me you've still got the edge. And a few more years.
ReplyDeleteI first realized I was growing older when a Japanese friend gave me a Kitaro album -- and I liked it. And I knew I was no longer young the day I heard a Police song on a "classic rock" radio station.
ReplyDeleteI vote for the "losing the anger" option. I still love my angry metal but am not in the mood for it very often these days. It's a good thing.
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