Seems Like a Good Idea at the Time
by Your Diva, Robin Pastorio-Newman
Like Your Darling, Your Diva, Your One True Love, you'd rather sandblast
your corneas with genuine sand than listen to one more assessment of the
year 2001. It was a year. Your life changed. Everyone's life changed.
Every year, your life changes to a greater or lesser degree. For
instance, 1999 bored us senseless with Y2K terror and ennui, not mention
that The Rapture Is Coming, Can I Sell You Amway Products? fervor.
During 2000, everyone stopped panting and said, "I meant to do that."
So, if in no other way, your life changed simply on the basis of nervous
oxygen intake.
Some things seem like a good idea but you wake up later and wonder what
short-circuited your brain. You're a person of good taste. Your socks
match. No matter what, you smell terrific. At the end of a long, strange
New Year's Eve, you would never, never ever decide your fantastic friend
is a great American hero, and anyone who doesn't revere him doesn't
deserve to draw breath. No. Wait. I did that.
While Your Heart's Desire still thinks those who don't adore her dear
friend ought to be flogged, plenty of *truly* bad ideas wend their ways
into pop culture and lay eggs. Firming and toning your abs
without breaking a sweat springs to mind. Slapping paranoia-inspired and
-inducing GPS bracelets on perfectly safe children follows. Buying an
instructional video to learn how Lance Bass busts loose those funky
moves doesn't precisely rank up there with "You know, I bet crack is
tasty," but it's no relativity theory either. You could argue the virtue
of these thoughts until Jimmy Hoffa slides down the chimney bearing
gifts, but one day you're going to swat your forehead and ask your brain
for a rematch.
It's early in a shiiiiny new year, when people still resent their
resolutions enough to stick to them. Why not add one to your list, since
resolutions you'll keep are wildly improbable? How about a good idea:
Why not resolve to approach music, an element of your life you'll
appreciate most in retrospect, with the kind of gut-churning, liquid
passion you currently reserve for Temptation Island fantasy babes and
magnetic chess? This year, resolve to seek out music you love, hear it,
feel it with your whole self, and plan to embarrass your grandchildren
with it after they someday put you in the home? It's an investment,
even. No more lifeless, empty air in your history. No more plastic
corporate happy-cog codas and interchangeable Mattel pop stars. This
year, when so many people have suddenly realized what life is worth,
resolve not to offer yours as marketshare.
Got better ideas? Tell Your Darling all about
it.
©2002 Robin Pastorio-Newman