This is Me on Sudafed
Do yourself a favor and get a copy of You Know Where To Find Me by Rachel Cohn, one of the best writers for readers of any age. Period. This book is darker than others, but stunning and totally real. There is not a false note. Not one.
I wish I had the energy to heap more eloquent praise on the fantastic Rachel Cohn but I am sick. I’ve been stuck in an off-again, on-again cycle of sickness and wellness for the whole sucky month of February. Yeah, I said it. FEBRUARY SUCKS. My birthday is on the third day of February and it just goes downhill from there. The primary weather pattern here in New Jersey for the entire month of February is 100 percent chance of SUCKING. Every February my husband and I contemplate moving to sunnier climes, especially those without income tax like the Bahamas. February. Ugh. It totally deserves to be the shortest month of the year. And this year we’re stuck with A WHOLE EXTRA DAY of February because it’s a Leap Year and all.
That rant on February kind of sneaked up on me. I think it’s the cold meds talking. I realize I am using variations of the word “suck” a lot. Forgive me for my lack of creativity but my brain is clogged with medicine and mucus and I’m only working at like, maybe half-capacity right now.
Last night I had a fever and I couldn’t sleep. Inspired by the Jimmy Kimmel-Ben Affleck man love video sensation, I tried to sing my way through We Are the World, and remember which singer sang what part. Keep in mind that I have not heard this song, or seen the video for at least twenty years. For real. Unlike Band Aid’s OriginalDo They Know It’s Christmas? (a superior song, really…and that Simon LeBon-Sting- Bono microphone sandwich at 1:23…oh my) no radio station plays We Are the World. And after listening to it twice today, just to fill in the one or two singers I couldn’t figure out (Damn you, Al Jarreau! And you, Darryl Hall!) or totally forgot (Bob Dylan, though I respect you a lot, damn you!), it’s not to hard to see why. We Are the World, despite its moving bridge and awesome solo turns by Cyndi Lauper, Steve Perry and Stevie Wonder, is, when taken altogether, corny.
Which is why I’m sure it’s difficult for all you college students who are actively trying to get me invited to campus to understand how monumentally important We Are the World was for anyone who was in fifth grade in 1985. You couldn’t listen to the radio for five minutes without hearing We Are The World. And if you didn’t like We Are The World you were a BAD PERSON because not liking We Are the World meant that you didn’t like saving starving kids in Africa.
But I loved We Are the World. Even though my love for Michael Jackson was waning at that point.
I don’t even know what to compare it to. No other musical event–save for the Live Aid concert that followed–was of this magnitude. To say it was like when *NSYNC dropped No Strings Attached is just…not enough.
Must go to sleep now.
