I’m a sap.
I’ve never owned a black leather jacket, never a skinny tie, I’m nothing if not unfashionable.
But I’m human.
What does it mean to be human?
Anxious. Wondering if this or that is gonna work out.
Lonely. Wanting to connect, but not knowing how to bridge the gap.
Self-conscious. Worried if people are going to laugh at you.
I know what’s hip, and sometimes my taste squares with that, but if a song touches me…I don’t care where it came from. Which means I don’t care what you think of me or my taste. But that would be completely untrue.
It’s the little things that matter, those are the situations you remember. Sure, graduating from college is a big deal, as is passing the Bar and getting married, but what truly makes our heart beat is when small things work out and the game continues, and our good feelings persist. Talk to any guy, he can remember these moments, especially the one where your eyes light up and focus upon him, giving him the green light he’s looking for.
And sure, everybody wants to get laid, but this is not what I’m talking about. Pricks keep score and boast about it. Real men are looking to melt. And it only happens a few times in a lifetime.
And if you’ve got your motorcycle jacket, if you wear your sunglasses at night, if you think punk is the best music ever made, you’re never gonna get “Play It Again.” And really the reason I like “Play It Again” has little to do with the lyrics. It’s the sound. That acoustic guitar intro and then the crystal clear strumming, setting the mood. And the singable chorus.
So what I’ve done here is prove that I’m not cool. But cool is for New York. For Angelenos who hit the clubs and the restaurants.
But me, I’m a human being, a dreamer. As old as I am I still fantasize my life will work out like a fairy tale. And when I hear “Play It Again” I believe it just might.