I miss the summer of 2012. There was a lot less rain and a lot more “Call Me Maybe.”
It also didn’t hurt that the 2012 Nationals were a great baseball team and I was fifteen pounds lighter. Heck, last summer, I even had an excuse to wear green tights:
…and a tiger shirt.
And then something terrible happened. Depending on your political affiliation, maybe it is Bush’s fault? Or is Obama to blame? Maybe Gangham Style is the real culprit?
We lost our innocence.
In 2012, the song of the summer was about a nice lady who politely asked a noble gentleman to give her a ring on the telephone whenever it was most convenient. She didn’t ask for a text message; she asked for an actual phone call. However, there was no pressure and no demands. Only a deferential request to “Call Me Maybe.”
Even the President approved:
And what about the 2013 song of the summer?
All those Lines of decency have been Blurred by Robin Thicke.
“The way you grab me,
Must wanna get nasty,
Go ahead, get at me.”
“When you got them jeans on,
What do we need steam for?
You the hottest $&*%@ in this place.”
“Shake your rump,
Get down, get up.”
No offense to Robin, but I think steam is great. Other than ice, it’s probably my favorite version of water.
“Blurred Lines” shows me that we’ve fallen a long way, America, just like Lindsay Lohan’s career. Robin has now joined a lengthy list of villains who have corrupted our beloved nation: Elvis, Mick Jagger, the Bee Gees, the guy who told me “Bruce Willis is actually dead” when I was walking into a movie theatre to see “The Sixth Sense,” and John Travolta. They should all be ashamed of themselves. They should also all be more like Carly. Carly Rae. Carly Rae Jepsen (even if she’s Canadian).
But, seriously, I hate to judge anyone, but this song creeps me out.