Bittersweet Me

Recently some friends and I put together a Spotify list of 1990s songs and while randomly selecting mine, I threw into the pile the R.E.M. song “Bittersweet Me” from the New Adventures in Hi-Fi album of 1996. I hadn’t really listened to the song in awhile, but something about it resonated. And since putting it on that list, I’ve been basically repeat listening to it and it’s kind of put me in a mood. So, apologies up front for that, I’m just in kind of a pissed off mood today and I blame the song for it.

I don’t really need to outline the reasons to be pissed off right now, do I? Does anyone really look forward to watching a debate between Donald Trump and Joe Biden tonight? Can’t we just substitute Kamala Harris for him tonight? That I would look forward to. Joe will probably be fine. He was good in all the VP debates and most likely performs better one to one, and when practiced … and I have no doubt he’s done a lot of prep work.

But it wasn’t just that he was bad in the Democratic debates last year, most nights it was obvious he didn’t want to be there. He gleefully stopped talking when his clock ran out. He had long trains of complete nonsense that didn’t seem to me like a man out of it, rather like a guy who just didn’t care about what he was doing. So maybe that will be different. Does it matter? Is anyone really going to change their vote based on this activity?

I guess I could watch baseball playoff instead — there are eight games today. Honestly, I don’t care about any of them. I tried to watch baseball for the first week and gave up. It just means nothing to me right now. The NBA playoffs are the same. Are they in the Finals yet? I think two NFL teams announced this morning that they’ve had a rash of COVID infections. Expect more of that soon.

What else? Fargo started back up this weekend, I guess I need to watch that. Hey, part of this season filmed in my neighborhood! Something? Not really. I’ll watch. My expectations are low. The show peaked in season two. They basically wasted Carrie Coon, otherwise known as my favorite actress, in season three.

So, anything more? I don’t know. Everyone’s dealing with their own shit these days, what’s one more person’s experience of it all? I could write about my life, but it would just invite the hate reader(s) to mine my work for things to use against me, which would almost certainly just be projection intended to give psychic cover for whatever he or she feels guilty about. So what’s the point?

What’s the point, indeed. I’ll let Michael Stipe sing us out:

I’d sooner chew my leg off
Than be trapped in this
How easy you think of all of this as bittersweet me

I couldn’t taste it
I’m tired and naked
I don’t know what I’m hungry for
I don’t know what I want anymore

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