The recent Times interview put a spotlight on a Taylor Swift song I admire; this is a widely beloved song. I want you to know I'm a mirrorball-- I'll show you every version of yourself tonight. I'll get you out on the floor-- Shimmering, beautiful-- And when I break, it's in a million pieces. To me, this is notable because Taylor is speaking directly to the listener. This isn't unparalleled--but, in other settings, I tend to think of Taylor in storyteller mode, writing to "Betty," to Jake Gyllenhaal, to her mother. The idea is that a pop performer--or any public figure--is just a vessel to be used. You listen to a pop singer so that you can learn or understand something about your own life. "When I break, it's in a million pieces." The personal failures of the songwriter are a gift to the world--because the shattering yields a million pieces (a million songs). This composition is celebrated for its bridge: And they called off the circus-- Bu...
Everyone has a colonoscopy now and then--so this is not like a report from the epicenter of 9/11. The doctor appeared to be a small child, and I liked him. He had an inelegant way of speaking. "Who knows if insurance will cover this?" he wondered aloud. "If you had a more dramatic family history--if your father were, like, dying of colon cancer, then you would be a slam dunk...." He briefly considered my small daily intake of Adderall. "I mean, you *could* ingest that before a colonoscopy....but that's like pissing into the wind...." (OK, he did not use that simile--but I *saw* the simile. I saw it in his eyes.) The unpleasant part is the waiting. I worked my way through every Christmas carol I know--then moved on to Sondheim. "Johanna," "Anyone Can Whistle," "Losing My Mind." Oscar Hammerstein. Frank Loesser. "I spend sleepless nights to think about you...." Did Sondheim think that this was an odd way of using ...