i'm no superman, i hope you like me as i am.

I figured out how I'm going to structure this blog, and hopefully you all will be able to appreciate how I'm doing this. You know how the doctor says "An apple a day keeps the doctor away"? Well. This blog will be like that, but I'll pick a song to structure the day around, and this blogpost around. And through that, I'll mention various aspects of my life, anecdotes that go along with this song. However, in hindsight, that quote would have been pun-nier if the song I had picked was "Apple." Oh well, my loss. 

So I thought my inaugural post should be about this song in particular. I've written about it so many times before, and I've discussed why it's so important to me, but I guess it's one of those songs that even if I get sick of it, will always resonate throughout me. It's an important piece of my life. This song dictated one of my very first relationships. Granted, now I know better-- I know that it was one of those "high school" relationships. It wasn't until much later that I discovered what true love really was, but puppy love was enough for now. So, I'm going to have to thank this guy for introducing me to Joe Brooks' music. (He knows exactly who he is, despite the fact the two of us no longer speak.) Without this relationship in particular, I would have never fully found Joe's stuff, and been able to do half of the stuff (like go to his shows, or meet him/talk to him) that I've accomplished as a fan of Joe's. 

I was fourteen, turning fifteen. Fresh off the heels of my first real relationship with none other than 'Austin,' the adorable, yet slightly dimwitted jock that I had dated as soon for the majority of my time in England. However, I met someone else. We had started off as friends, and I knew that he had a lot of girls that had liked him-- so I did the brave thing and attempted to stay friends, despite my growing attraction for him. It wasn't until I had started dating someone else that 'Sacramento' (that's what we'll call him) had come forward and admitted to me that he saw me as more than friends. Of course, being young and naive, and not being able to express our emotions succinctly and clearly enough-- we used music to convey our feelings for us. 

Don't we all do that though? Music resonates within our souls and our lives because the melody and lyrics intertwine and portray our thoughts and emotions better than we could ever express it using our own words. In any case, Sacramento had been mustering up the words to attempt to ask me out, and had managed to shyly use his myspace profile in order to give me the hint. 

"You should listen to my myspace profile song whenever you have the chance," I heard him tell me in his cutest voice.

"Why? What is it?", I replied, curious. Having already been in two relationships, I could already gather the subtle hints through his twinkling eyes, and the fact that he was too nervous to speak.

"Because it's the way I feel about you," he answered back, confidently, yet still hesitating slightly-- as if what he was about to say could bite him back in the ass. 

It was this song. Once I had listened to it, I started blushing. The song 'Superman,' itself, Joe has described as a song he wrote when he was seventeen for a girl that was his "best friend" and describing the angst of being in love with this girl and knowing that what he had to give wasn't enough. He couldn't be 'Superman,' but hopefully this girl would like him for himself. So, essentially, Sacramento was telling me he wanted to be with me, and that he hoped that just him, flaws and all, would be enough to be with. It said it all, when he was too flustered to get the words out  himself.

While this relationship didn't exactly pan out the way I planned it... (We ended up being on and off for awhile. As young 'lovers,' we certainly were fickle. A few days after he asked me out, he ended it. This became a vicious cycle, until we both realized that we were not good for each other, and just stayed friends.) it can be said that certain songs just conjure up memories. It could be a day, a single moment, or the song could be the  soundtrack of an entire relationship. Just listening to this song causes this entire relationship, especially this moment, to rush back to me. My best friends will always make fun of me for how awkward and nervous I get around Joe Brooks-- but this is my explanation. Joe Brooks, and his most famous song, Superman, instantly become a physical and musical manifestation of an entire relationship, a moment that will forever stay with me. This song isn't the best song I've ever heard by any means, nor is it even my favorite of Joe's stuff-- but it is the song that will mean the most to me. It's the song that no matter how much I listen to, I can never really get sick of it.

Songs are funny like that. Powerful, little pieces of writing. They can either make or break you. Or you know, embarrass you in front of artists that you find attractive and admire musically.