Everyone’s Changing (I Don’t Feel The Same)
I’m the worst.
I have a wicked cool wristwatch. I always feel dressed up when I’m wearing it (which is always), even if I’m in pajama bottoms, a t-shirt and flip flops. Plus, it keeps terrific time. I have five clocks in my 800-square-foot apartment: one in the living room, one in the kitchen, one on the microwave, one on my G4 laptop, plus my bedside clock radio. And I have three in my 200-square-floor office: one on my G4 laptop, one on my Dell PC, and one on the VCR. How on Earth, then, was I late to the Knitting Factory last night? How on Earth did we miss Matt Pond PA? How on Earth did I manage to drive my companion to raging into her cell phone?
You know you’re well out of the MTV demographic when you find yourself in the office after hours populating an Excel document with PBS’ ‘Liberty! The American Revolution’ on the television over your shoulder. And you know you’re in trouble when you realize that the credits are rolling and you’re supposed to be in Tribeca.
I’m always late. Usually it’s just a minute or five, but often it’s more. And I’ve been called out on it more than once. ‘Just call,’ I’m told again and again. But for some reason, every time I look at one of the nine time keeping devices in my immediate vicinity, I think, ‘I’ll be there in ten minutes.’ Now, I’ve lived in New York City for nearly ten years and I don’t think I’ve gotten anywhere in ten minutes, even when I used to ride my bike down the fire lane at top speed.
Fortunately, the power of music, and especially the soaring, melodic beauty of Keane, was more than sufficient enough to cleanse my palette (and my companion’s, I think) of any residual negativity. With lyrics like “And if you have a minute why don’t we go
Talk about it somewhere only we know? / This could be the end of everything / So why don’t we go / Somewhere only we know?” one is bound to be uplifted. Or moved anyway. How could one not be? These three lads are feelin’ it. They’re owning it. They’re all animated and bouncing around the tiny stage like we were a Wembly-sized crowd. And good for them! In an era of been-there-done-that hipsterism, it’s totally refreshing to see unabashed sincerity and honest expression. ‘Course, that’s right in my wheelhouse (to use a baseball metaphor, since I know nothing of the sport). I’m a big fan of anyone who has the courage to be uncool enough to sing “Emotion keeps my heart on me!”
Standing there in the crowd all sweaty and smelling of beer singing along with all of my might, all of my worries disappeared. The negative voices boomeranging around my head fell silent. And I thought to myself, ‘I’ve never felt more alive.’ I looked down at my wristwatch, and set it forward a few seconds. I wanna’ get there first, and feel it fully every time.
