not funny

Note to self: after hearing someone ask the question "when do the Special Olympics start again?", examine context of situation before speaking

I don't actually have anything important to say ever

Something I have noticed due to several hours of driving in the car with only the radio: the dude? From the band Train? Really, really particular taste in women. Noted first in the pinnacle of Train’s oeuvre, Drops of Jupiter. Witness:
“She checks out Mozart while she does Tae-Bo
Reminds me that there’s time to grow, hey, hey”

That’s pretty particular. Also, seems like kind of a non-sequitur, yes? But that’s pretty benign compared to this-

“She acts like summer and walks like rain
Reminds me that there’s time to change, hey, hey
Since the return from her stay on the moon
She listens like spring and she talks like June, hey, hey”

I’ve been through two decades of springs now, but I really don’t think I could tell you how to listen like one. But whatever season this chick acts or walks or talks like, this dude wants her. As much as she wants the “best soy latte that [she’s] ever had”, apparently. Also, maybe the fact that she has to keep reminding you that there’s room to change/grow is why she left for the moon in the first place, Pat Monahan. Maybe if you’d paid attention the first time this wouldn’t be an issue. And you wouldn’t have had to write the song.

So I think we were all pretty aware of the sheer suckiness of “Drops of Jupiter.” Then, then, this Pat Monahan character comes out with his solo CD. And if the first single off this CD is any indication, the whole point of his solo career is so that he can talk about his very particular taste in women even more explicitly. Exhibit B:


“She’s old enough to know, and young enough not to say no
To any chance that she gets for home plate tickets to see the Mets.
Like everybody, she’s in over her head,
Dreads Feds, Grateful Dead, and doesn’t take meds…
She got the kinda strength that every man wishes he had.
She loved Michael Jackson up until he made Bad.”

The entire song is like this. The whole thing. Just listing how “quirky” this chick is. Is this really a song? Could you not just take any person you know and list all their habits and write some chorus about their eyes and be Pat Monahan?

Yes, yes you could.

Exhibit C:

Jon Mclaughlin, discovered while watching an episode of VH1’s Top 20 Countdown. Songs contain gems like:

She loves her mama's lemonade,
Hates the sounds that goodbyes make.
She prays one day she'll find someone to need her.

And the ridiculously wonderful line:
“Perfect only in her imperfection.”

See Pat Monahan? See what you are teaching the youth? Bad enough the guy writes a song called “Beautiful Disaster,” but then we go and add in the “these-quirks-are-why-I-love-her” list and we have Train version 2.0. This is bad for America, I am certain.

Not that I’m really trying to claim this is some sort of new thing. I don’t think Train invented this “listing-of-quirks” situation. In fact, I’m pretty sure the 90s were brimming with stuff like this. And “My mistress’s eyes are nothing like the sun?” It’s all the same thing: she’s so unusual, this is why I love her, lame chorus blahblahblahblah.

So here are my questions:
-Do real men actually come up with lists of quirks that go to explain why they’re in love with some girl? Are thing like “loving her mama’s lemonade” all that important to a relationship?
-Are there real, actual women that fall for this crap? Do you think there’s some chick out there that goes- “Ohmygod I loved Michael Jackson up until he made Bad!” and then feel validated?
-Or maybe these songs are how Monahan gets chicks, yeah? He promises to write a song about them, which pretty much just lists the few facts he can remember from their precious time together, just until he fucks them and then sells millions upon millions of records to adoring fans who all somehow feel that he’s written it just for them?


Okay. Now he’s starting to sound sort of brilliant.


Anyhow, I’m going to leave you with this little jewel from Gary Benchley: Rock Star:

“Watching her cry, I knew Benchley had hit bottom. I had reached the mythical state of total anti-rock, which I call ‘Train,’ after the band. When the head of every drum is torn, and all guitars out of tune, when the microphone melts in your hand, that’s Train, and I was in Train all the way up to my drops of Jupiter.”