I've been trying to process my recent feelings toward Robin Thicke over the past few days. A few days ago I shared on Facebook about my conflictual relationship with Robin. Some people completely understood, and others were left confused. So I thought I'd expound a bit on the topic.
I have an extreme distaste for the current poppy teeny boppers that grace our radio stations and TV screens. I could stand to live in a world with no Justin Beiber. No Selena Gomez. No One Direction. And I'll even throw Kanye West in there just because hello, it's Kanye. And he named his baby North.
I dislike what these young adults (or whatever category Mr. West falls into) stand for. They are examples to our children, the models whom our kids emulate. Everywhere we look we see Beiber hair cuts flopping in the eyes of some poor hipster-wannabe. We see their fashion adorning our nation's progeny. But not just what we can see on the outside. So many of these pop stars have an attitude, an air of privilege, that seems to permeate the air straight to the hearts of their fans. And sadly, so many of them end up going off the deep end. Stardom may seem desirable, but at what price?
Also? Their music generally stinks.
#Justsayin.
On principle, I should despite everything that Robin Thicke stands for: his music, his attitude, his general look. Not sure what I mean? Let me break it down for you:
Am I making myself more clear?
I throw him into the category or overly-hyped teeny boppers, who I detest simple because they are all the rage.
Yet.
Yet sometimes these teeny boppers throw me for a damn loop. And they put out a song that catches me. It stands out amongst the throng of songs on a car ride. It starts with a toe tap. Then a head bob. Then I find an emotional connection, and DANG IT.
They suck me in.
And even though everything in my sensibilities tells me, "You should HATE THIS SONG." I can't. I can't change the station. I can't stop my toe from tappin' or my head from bobbin'. And so help me, I can't stop from singing along.
Darn you, Robin Thicke, and your latest catchy tune. And darn your stupid tie-less suit and your pointing and your aviator sunglasses.
I just can't help myself.
PS: Robin, you are also lucky you are the son of Alan Thicke (aka Jason Seaver from quite possibly one of the Top 5 80's TV shows of all times, Growing Pains). It's one of your only redeeming qualities. #Seavers4Lyfe
