Taylor Swift’s new album “The Life of a Showgirl” arrived this morning. As a fifty-something guy that invariably listens to retro radio stations targeted at people of a certain age, I probably have no business listening to songs sung by a girl twenty years younger than me. Or so expectation would have you believe.
I’ve never been one to conform entirely to expectation.
Do I feel a little out of place in my enthusiasm to support somebody or something that opens me to ridicule from family and friends? A little. I sometimes feel that we are ruled so much by that which is deemed acceptable that having at least something that is our own is kind of important.
It really doesn’t matter what it is.
There’s a part of me that’s utterly fed up with being attacked for my thoughts, opinions, actions or inactions. There was a moment while out with friends a while ago when the entire table turned on me – telling me what I should be doing – how I should be thinking. I can’t remember ever having done that to somebody else – I would never dream of it. I sat and smiled. Inside I was furious.
So yes. I’ll figuratively die on Taylor’s hill. In a world filled with so much hate, division, obligation, and expectation, I’m going to listen to songs I like, watch movies I like, read books I like, eat food I like, and spend time with people I like.
Perhaps if more people invested in themselves rather than trying to shape and bend those around them to their preconceptions, the world might be a very different place.
I’ll be over here, engaging in my quiet rebellion. The music is great. You’re welcome to visit.