On music.

I'm friends with a lot of very talented people. Musicians, mostly. Real musicians, ones with the uncanny ability to listen to a song for five minutes and come back with an acoustic guitar to melt the hearts (and in many cases, remove the panties) of the lucky few within earshot. Probably on a beach somewhere, in a little circle as we gather to worship the chosen few that can probably see the matrix.

I played guitar for three years. It could have been me on the beach, with my sandals and my flowing hair and my Bruno Mars covers igniting the underwear of the nearby totty. Alas,I was mediocre at best. I was greedy and lazy - I never had the drive to carry on. I was learning guitar because it was cool, not because I enjoyed the thing. My insistance on listening to nothing but classic rock probably didn't help my ear for music, either.

This is part of the reason that years later, I'm dragging my itunes kicking and screaming into the twenty-first century. I'm tearing myself away from the all-too-familiar arms of AC/DC and Poison to expand my operations - it's a big step. Metric I like, courtesy of the Scott Pilgrim soundtrack, a film chock-full of on-the-cusp Canadian indie rockers. I'm growing to love Childish Gambino as my first tentative steps into the hip-hop world, and I've downloaded the entire soundtrack to the OC, a veritable smorgasbord of once-hip indie rock. None of it's cool anymore. I just love the show.