To many this prolific singer-songwriter is a national treasure, but to me he is a douche bag who I often daydream about punching in the breadbasket. Many people see him sitting on a stool and singing "Fire and Rain" as he strokes his acoustic guitar and are instantly put at ease. Not me, I want to take his acoustic guitar and break it over his head. Sometimes when I have a hard time opening a jar I just imagine that it's James Taylor's head and it twists right off.
Is my hatred of James Taylor irrational? Of course it is. I am sure he is a very nice man, but I can't help wanting to deliver a roundhouse kick to his forehead as he sings "Carolina On My Mind".
It took me some reflection as I sat on the can one day when I had an "aha" moment that I have heard Oprah talks about. I am an avid armchair psychotherapist.
My father was a huge fan of capital punishment growing up. One time I inadvertently "broke wind" while at Mass. The acoustics of the church made the sound carry and the pew shook so hard that it could have been measured on the Richter scale. My dad kept a solemn face on even though the smell was putrid. I knew I would get it when I got home, and all I remember is my mother and he arguing about my diet and saying we were lucky for not being excommunicated.
I do remember the singapore-esque caning to be accompanied by the soundtrack of one James Taylor playing in the background. Therefore, I anchor my feelings of injustice, pain and poor digestion to James Taylor. Take that Freud!
I know my feelings towards James Taylor aren't warranted, but the man fills me with rage. I am sure you're a nice man Mr. Taylor but stay out of my way. I will pummel you if you cross my path
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1 comment:
Good words.
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