I have once done a particular something that brings two blooms of shame to my cheeks. It’s the kind of thing that you do while looking over your shoulder. Or that you do in a darkened room in silence, or in the hope that some sort of cloak of invisibility will cover you and protect your secret from ever being discovered. It’s one of those dark secrets that I will carry with me to the grave. (Except for the fact that I’m telling you. So it’s not so much of a secret anymore, I suppose.) I can’t ever let anyone-other than you- know about this.
I own a Justin Bieber single.
I am the publicly-embarrassed-yet-privately-gleeful owner of “Baby.” Let me explain/justify. This song once stalked me for two weeks. Seriously. First, I sat down one Tuesday and Justin Bieber began singing as soon as I turned on the TV. I happened to be tuned into NBC, and Justin Bieber was a guest on Ellen. He was singing “Baby.” Then, a few days later, my computer logged itself onto the Us Weekly web site somehow. I mean it. I woke my computer up from its sleep, and my Gmail account surfaced but then it flashed to the Us Weekly web site. I had the computer mouse in my hand, but I didn’t press anything. I swear. And when the web site opened, there was a picture of Justin Bieber. Finally, while I was at Kohl’s (the greatest store on Earth for reasons that warrant their own post), “Baby” started playing. And during that song, I found a pair of travel jeans. (Yes, because none of the 10 pairs of jeans I already own are right for the plane. Of course.) There was only one pair in my size, and they fit perfectly. And I was like baby, baby, baby…
So you see, I had to buy the single. If for no other reason than so it would stop stalking me. But actually, I bought it because I secretly love this song. It’s so happy-sounding even when it’s about something so sad. Even though I love the soulful yearnings of Ben Gibbard and Adam Duritz and the indie sounds of Blind Pilot and Frightened Rabbit, there is a tiny little part of my heart that loves pop music. I can’t help but tap my feet and bounce around and do the punching dance as I listen to this song. And I love the lyrics. He sings about this girl who’s his love and his heart and they’ll never be apart. But then she tells him there’s another and his first love broke his heart for the first time. And he says, “For you, I would have done whatever, And I just cant believe we ain’t together And I wanna play it cool, But I’m losing you I’ll buy you anything, I’ll buy you any ring And I’m in pieces, Baby fix me and just shake me til’ you wake me from this bad dream.” He’s singing about a 13-year old at school on the playground, but isn’t that really how it is for a 20-year old or a 30-year old or a 40-year old? So really, Justin Bieber and Ben Gibbard have a lot in common. They just sing about it in different ways. But that’s what I love about this silly pop song. It made me realize that being in love is really the same no matter how old you are. When you are in love-whether you’re 14 or 37-you feel like that person is everything. And when that person breaks your heart, it feels like your whole world has crashed in on you. And you feel as though you may never be able to dig yourself out. And your heart is breaking but you just keep on saying baby, baby, baby…
So, that’s why I bought a Justin Bieber song. Buying it reminded me of the Seinfeld episode where George took the eclair out of the trash and ate it. He looked around before reaching in, hoping no one would see. Because it really wasn’t something you should do- dig in the trash. But the eclair was there, right on top, still resting cleanly on the doily. And he couldn’t resist. And so I, too, couldn’t resist this peppy song about a broken heart. I knew it would ruin my “street cred” with the indie scene, but I couldn’t help myself. It had me at “Baby…” I will bury this song deep within my iPod where only I can find it (like at about mile 12 in my running mix, for example). No one will know the cause of my smile as Bieber Fever fills my headphones, but I’ll be like baby, baby, baby…
