We are in a constant search for a good fit in life. Little things like Levis jeans and big things like relationships all have to fit in our lives. The problem is that most things fit by virtue of a trial and error process and error is the operative word.
A good example of a bad fit for me on a small scale is the much hyped teenage vampire movie Twilight. I’m a little old school when it comes to vampires because I want them to do something within their range of hobbies which should include blood-sucking and moments of victim terror. This movie was a series of sullen poses that involved moody and self-absorbed young adults wallowing in their own self-importance. The only tangible horror in this movie was that it reminded me of that one main hallway in my high school days at the Comp where everybody was in a futile search for any semblance of coolness.
To be honest, I fell asleep during this movie. I wished I could have dreamed about a different Twilight plotline that had me choking out the Twilight producer that sucked the life out of vampire movies. Anyhow, I saw a part of the first Twilight movie on TV and the best way to get me to see the sequel is to bring a gun because this is a case where the movie itself sucked far more than the vampires in the movie. Not a good fit.
The last good fit for me in movie world was The Wrestler. Sometimes a slice of somebody else’s life is all we should need in a good movie. Granted, none of us would be very interested in a life swap with Mickey Rourke’s character, but it was a very good flick with a dreary look at the wrestling world as a sidebar to a life in freefall. This movie was ‘Rocky’ without the positives.
New music is a bad fit with me. Country music seems to have more guitar riffs than Whole Lotta Love by Led Zeppelin but with whiney “dead dog, faithless love and rusty pickup” twang vocals to make it still pass as a country song.
The net result is an unpalatable mess similar to adding mustard to Cheerios.
Then you have the new Top 40 sound that blends hip hop talk sequences with real musical harmonies and an actual melody. These songs remind me of a car that almost starts but not quite. They fire for a few seconds then fall back into a rhythm of starter motor noise. The songs have a semblance of musicality and then some flat-voiced idiot starts to talk in the middle of the song. That is not a good fit for me and it barely makes sense.
Fortunately I found an antidote on PBS. They aired a vintage Marvin Gaye concert that showcased this silky-voiced musical legend at his finest. The only thing that ever slowed down Marvin’s talent was bad judgement and good aim at close range with a 38. But his music will always be a great fit in my world and a good way to end this column on a positive note.
Jim Sutherland may be reached at mystarcollectorcar.com