I effing hate the vile abomination that is Jay-Z sampling that song with Mr Hudson's whiney little voice murdering it. Filthy sacrilege.
Anyway...I was watching the episode of The OC where Marissa decides that it's her and Ryan's song. I love that concept of having a song, but it does rather ruin what is potentially a perfectly good song if you then break up. I remember my ex giving me The Magic Numbers' first album and I can't listen to it now. Listen to a song called I See You, You See Me and you'll see what I mean.
So, no song this time round. Safest policy.
Anyhoo, this wasn't supposed to be a song post. This was supposed to be a post about how being an adult SUCKS. BIG TIME.
For it is a sad state of affairs. Before we finish education, we think we rule the world. We have reached the top of the heap that we've been climbing since we were three years old, and we feel that now we're there, we're invincible. I remember Taylor Townsend, valedictorian in The OC, saying 'there's no-one older than a high school senior, but no-one younger than a college freshman', and when you look at the swagger learned by 18-year-olds from years of education, and the nervous enthusiasm of a first-year university student, you see what she means.
Yet when the merry-go-round stops and you are forced to get off, what then? Wander the fairground alone, standing in the queue for other rides, getting to the front after hours of waiting only to be told 'sorry, this one's not for you'? For there is no template, no guideline, for what happens next. No wonder so many go running back to the merry-go-round in a matter of months.
And then Peter Pan and his Lost Boys grew up a bit more and become Lost Teenagers. With the swagger and promise of a bright future that is evident when a person shows their true colours, as they do at this age.
Yet another shameless opportunity for me to plug my favourite film of all time (yes, I've decided it is), Dead Poets Society. It's got the wonderful cheesy moral message of the 80s, poetry, amazing music (RIP Maurice Jarre), and shows the wonder of what it appears to have been like to be a teenage boy with the world at your feet. And because I'm a bit in love with Neil and want to know Charlie.
Now it's all pills and sex. Thanks Skins.
But we'll always have the 80s, where the best way to express your teenage rebellion was to shout inappropriate things in church, smoke out of your window, put your lipstick on with your cleavage or dance like maniacs around your library.
I wish I was a kid in the 80s. Or a kid who knew how to get to Neverland.
Aside from just closing your eyes.
What do you miss about being a kid?