"You and me could write a bad romance"

Chuck Klosterman once said, "Do you know people who insist they like 'all kinds of music'? That actually means they like no kinds of music." I read this line one summer in between college, and even though I like him, I felt personally affronted by this statement. My ex-boyfriend read it, laughed, and said, "Yeup, that's you."

Up until that point, I'd emphatically insisted I liked "all kinds of music." I didn't, but I didn't know that. College taught me several things and combined with dating, I learned that I could care less about, even downright despise, most music. It took twenty-something years to figure this out, but I realized it. Something I'd feared all along.

I liked sappy, foot tapping pop music with occasional interruptions by bands cool people would actually pay to see.

"Bad Romance" has all sorts of interpretations, but to me, it's my cd collection. When I watched an episode of The League where André listens to music that no one can stand, I thought, "Oh no, I am André!" When Taco referred to André's car as a "musical armageddon," I nodded, sadly and knowingly. I have some redemption among my collection, but I will still always be the girl sitting in my car when I heard "See You Again," for the first time, and I thought, "I LOVE this song. Shit, this is probably that Miley Cyrus song everyone hates so much!" After that, I could pretty much guarantee that if someone was making fun of it, I was going to end up falling in love with it. I wouldn't see every artist I like in concert, but that doesn't mean I won't screech along to one of their songs at a moderate volume in my car (yeah, I'm particular about it not being too loud, you see where I'm going with this?).

My husband and my's first concert was Presidents of the United States of America, a concert my friends refused to join me at in the past. He's the first person I've ever dated where I actually love most of his music collection. We don't usually ride in my car, and when we do, he gets a little confused. The bulk of my cds aren't one band, but compilations, so passengers are forced to take a chance. Abba or Weezer? Amy Winehouse or "Call Me Maybe?" I am still the only person I know who likes James Blunt, or possibly the only one who will admit it. No, I'm definitely the only one who likes him, because I bought a copy at the Dollar Store. True story. Pretty sure someone hid or chucked it out my window, because I haven't been able to find it in years. And you know what? I miss it!

My ex co-workers used to love to quiz me on music, because I'd like half of a band or some songs of a certain musical artist but hate others. When I expressed a hate for James Taylor, my co-worker put up a picture of him at my desk which prompted ALL of our customers to inquire into my love of James Taylor which never ceased to amuse us all. Yet, these days, I feel sentimentality towards James Taylor. It could be that my mom made me watch a special on him or because too many older women were reliving the best moments of their lives when his concert rolled into town, and somewhere along the lines I realized someday I'd become a version of this.

I went to a Train concert, and my friends just shook their heads. Some of the bolder ones outright made fun of me. One of them said, "You can like them, you don't have to live with them," since he hates their flaunting of San Francisco, his hometown. However, when I told my co-worker who got us the Train tickets in the car that I'd been to bands like Everclear, Barenaked Ladies, and Eve 6, she said, "I wish I'd been a teenager in the '90's. I would've seen some really awesome bands."

And that made me feel old, albeit cool. I didn't tell her I'd also seen Shania Twain.