For Taylor Swift Fans

If you're not a TS obsessive, stop here. Otherwise, read on.

To me--and to many others--the new highlight is "Betty." This is a song from the perspective of an adolescent boy, James, who has cheated on his girlfriend. But he wants the girl--Betty--back. So he tries to explain himself. All the drama went down at a dance. James saw Betty dancing with some other guy. Walking home, on cobblestones, distraught, James found himself ensnared by a nameless seductress. Conversation happened. More conversation. "Those days turned into nights." But it was "just a summer thing." James misses Betty.

There are many things I love in this song. The rhyming of "Inez" with "she says." The intrigue surrounding a class change: "I'm pretty sure you switched your homeroom because of me." The strange focus on the verb "to know": "I don't know anything but I know I miss you."

I also like the nostalgic feel--the use of instruments that you might have heard on "Speak Now." The mystical allure of the doorstep (think of "Back to December"). The romantic importance of the car ride (think of "Fearless," "All Too Well").

The song is simple and direct; it tells a story; it playfully shows what it might be like to live inside the mind of a self-indulgent teenaged boy. Does this look easy? I don't think it's easy....

P.S. On the subject of knowing/knowledge: Many imagined "Betty" scenes occur in "the garden." In the garden, would you trust me? To me, this seems to be part of a TS interest in Adam/Eve/Eden/The Fruit of Knowledge. (See also "Cruel Summer.") Just striking. Maybe she was reading Genesis while she lived on the Christmas Tree Farm.

Comments

How to Host a Baby

-You have assumed responsibility for a mewling, puking ball of life, a yellow-lab pup. He will spit his half-digested kibble all over your shoes, all over your hard-cover edition of Jennifer Haigh's novel Faith . He will eat your tables, your chairs, your "I {Heart] Montessori" magnet, placed too low on the fridge. When you try to watch Bette Davis in Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte , on your TV, your dog will bark through the murder-prologue, for no apparent reason. He will whimper through Lena Dunham's Girls , such that you have to rewind several times to catch every nuance of Andrew Rannells's ad-libbing--and, still, you'll have a nagging suspicion you've missed something. Your dog will poop on the kitchen floor, in the hallway, between the tiny bars of his crate. He'll announce his wakefulness at 5 AM, 2 AM, or while you and another human are mid-coitus. All this, and you get outside, and it's: "Don't let him pee on my tulips!" When...

Joshie

When I was growing up, a class birthday involved Hostess cupcakes. Often, the cupcakes would come in a shoebox, so you could taste a leathery residue (during the party). Times change. You can't bring a treat into a public school, in 2024, because heaven knows what kind of allergies might lurk, in unseen corners, in the classroom. But Joshua's teacher will allow: a dance party, a pajama day, or a guest reader. I chose to bring a story for Joshua's birthday (observed), but I didn't think through the role that anxiety might play in this interaction. We talk, in this house, quite a bit about anxiety; one game-changer, for J, has been a daily list of activities, so that he knows exactly what to expect. He gets a look of profound satisfaction when he sees the agenda; it doesn't really matter what the specific events happen to be. It's just about knowing, "I can anticipate X, Y, and Z." Joshua struggled with his celebration. He wore his nervousness on his f...

Josh at Five

Joshie's project is "flexibility"; the goal is to see that a plan is just an idea, not a gospel, not a guarantee. This is difficult. Yesterday, we went to a restaurant--billed as "open," with unlocked doors--and the owner informed us of an "error in advertising." But Joshie couldn't accept the word "closed." He threw himself on the floor, then climbed on the furniture. I felt for the owner, until he nervously made a reference to "the glass windows." He imagined that my child might toss himself through a sealed window, like Mary Katherine Gallagher, or like Bruce Willis, in "Die Hard." Then--thank the Lord!--I was able to laugh. The thing that really has therapeutic value for Joshie is: a firetruck. If we are out in public, and he spots a parked truck, he wants to climb on each surface. He breathlessly alludes to the wheels, the door, the windows. If an actual fire station ("fire ocean," in Joshie's parla...

Liars and Saints

Search This Blog