I Hate Music

Today, I finally figured out why people are saying, "I whip my hair back 'n forth" all the time.  Turns out, it's the chorus of a popular song sung by ten-year-old Willow Smith, the daughter of superstar actors Will and Jada Pinkett-Smith, everything of which they touch turns to gold as they please.  Seeing the flashy, well-edited music video of this newly "discovered" pop diva made me realize how hopeless my music career will be.  I am not fortunate enough to have the luxury of asking "Mommy? Daddy?  Can you make me into a pop star?"  

The truth is, I love music.  I just wish I didn't.  Or, at least, I wish the music industry was a much more fertile environment than it is now.  I remember seeing some interviews of high-profile musicians who explained that the only way a musician can thrive nowadays is if his or her album sells more than a million copies.  They'll need to tour and sell merchandise on top of it all in order to see a marginal profit.  How cruel it is that the one thing I think I'm remotely decent at will not reward me sufficiently in my life.  Even given some of the best resources an aspiring musician could ask for, including all the support I need from a creativity-fostering liberal arts college, I'm not going anywhere. Unless my parents have connections to Columbia Records and can afford to hire professionals, who can make any person on the planet appear as though they have talent, I'll still be stuck behind my computer watching four-year-old Shiloh Maddox Apple Jolie-Pitt, or whatever the hell those celebrity babies names are, frolic across the stages of sold-out stadiums.  

If only being a doctor seemed more exciting.