Sometimes It's Better to "Stop Believin"...Trust Me

Today, I present to you my question of life. The very thing that I ponder and "hmmm and haw" about too frequently for my own good (or the good of anyone, really). This is probably one of the top 7 reasons that I'm single and not a productive member of society. Here it is...are you ready?

What is is about Journey's "Don't Stop Believin'" that makes people turn into shrieking-think-they-can-sing-douchebags? It has been my unfortunate experience to discover that this song doesn't discriminate, but rather affects all people the same. Now, let's be completely honest here. You see a jean-jacket-clad Kurt standing by his Harley with she-mullet Barbara, you kind of expect this kind of thing. The 80's were a rockin' time and they aren't ready to let go. I get that. It's a self-esteem and comfort thing. What you don't forsee is the man in the BMW and 3-piece suit succumbing to this kind of thing. Bocelli, yes. Celine Dion, maybe. But to act in such a manner as this? Does he have no dignity, no pride. It is already apparent he has no pitch or vocal range to speak of. What is worse, these episodes don't just happen to other people. Uh-uh, nope. Think of your own life. Surely you have a story that would make even Barbara drop her Pall Malls and run. Possibly you are at the at the local Kwik Trip...or in your car...or, heaven forbid, the sacred safety of your own home when the unmistakable tune arrives over the airwaves completly unannouced. You try to fight it. After all, you don't even live within 10 miles of a boulevard, let alone one with strangers waitin' up and down it (shady, in my opinion). But to no avail. It happens. Slowly your brain turns down and your voice turns up. Fast forward 4 minutes and 11 seconds. Song fades and you find yourself with no recollection of just happened, but broken glass is scattered at your feet and your cat's ears are bleeding. Let me clue you in...you just took the midnight train to Douchedom. You couldn't have been more of a douche if you popped your collar and got a Chinese character tattoo. The worst part is that you weren't even alive when the song was popular the first time around...Mayor of Douchedom. Congratulations.


If you are still not convinced, watch this. My point exactly.