I Look Like a Jackass

Filed in Cult Of Pop 2.0

I spent this weekend finishing up a freelance assignment and to better focus I’ve got a CD of MP3s that I listen to while I work. It’s got the usual suspects for me: Aa!, Berryz, Ayaya, 15-nin Momusu, Tommy, Halcali, Zone, dream, W, some Rip Slyme and Melon Kinenbi, and so on. I have both Otome Gumi singles but no Sakura, which I find interesting…

Anyway, as I tap away at the keyboard and hopefully feel like what I’m writing isn’t total crap, the music keeps me motivated and confident. And since I really do love the music and not just all the pretty girls, I find myself… moving along with the music. I’ve watched the PVs enough to know the dance moves, and I’ll recreate them in my seat between taps on the keyboard. I mouth the words to songs, even though I don’t really know any Japanese. And if a song really gets to me – like, say, Otome Gume’s "Ai no Sono ~Touch My Heart~" – then I begin to over-emote with the song, kind of like the way Momusu goes all spastic in the "Shabondama" PV. And when the writing really flows, the whole dancing-in-my-seat thing becomes even more intense. One feeds into the other, so when I think I’m the Pynchon of educational guides, I’m also rocking out to "Piriri to Yukou!" and "Marching March" like there’s no tomorrow…

It’s not a pretty picture, by any means. I’m too old and too fat and too male for this to be a pretty picture.

… And every once in a while I turn my head and see my wife there, playing Xbox or reading or whatever, and I know she sees me waving my arms around, shaking my head, and basically acting like I’ve taken the eighth spot in Berryz that Maiha vacated. More than once in the past, she’s smiled at this and said I look cute (she’s my wife, she’s supposed to say that), which only makes me feel self-conscious and annoyed. There was a while when I’d only let loose my writerly inner diva when she was out of the house, but I’ve been less restrained as of late.

Really, I can’t stop. It’s the happy place in my mind, and the happy place in my mind translates to better writing, which in freelance terms hopefully translates to getting these jobs done faster. (Though I guess this has often been the case. In the past, it was playing air guitar with Helmet and Dinosaur Jr, which is no less silly than how I behave now.) And I guess I don’t want to stop anyway – it’s not like I ever properly learned shame, after all. Why bother now?