Footloose. Rascal Flatts. Random a capella groups. Glee. Yes I love them all.
There, I said it. I admitted, in writing, on the Internet, that I genuinely enjoy all of these forms of entertainment, despite the general consensus being rather negative on each.
Instead of being ostracized for my choices however, when I finally get the courage to admit these deep, dark secrets, most people couldn’t care less. Sure they might joke around a bit but ultimately we all have that “shameful” file of movies, books, songs or other forms of entertainment avidly consumed by you and tirelessly put down by what seems like the entire rest of the population.
As I get to know more people, particularly since starting college, conversations inevitably reach the critical bonding point: music and movies. When someone hands you the aux cord or looks to you for the ultimate Netflix suggestion, this is your chance to prove yourself as a “cool” and “interesting” human. You can’t pick anything too mainstream (much too boring) but be careful with suggesting your true favorites since you might just alienate all your new friends, right?
So wrong. Instead of being terrified of judgement, try casually throwing out one of your “strange” favorite songs. If it’s something widely regarded as an assault on the entertainment industry and in need of an apology to anyone who ever listens to it (I’m looking at you, Glee versions of songs. It’s ok, I still love you), you’ll definitely get some groans and protests. But try it anyway. Maybe your friends will secretly start to enjoy it once they hear it. Even if they don’t, it’s a quick way to tell how much these people care about getting to know you. If you enjoy it, they should at least be a little curious why you like what you like.
That of course brings me to the root of guilty pleasures. For me, most of the songs and movies I adore that many others raise an eyebrow at come from my childhood. When I first got my shiny orange iPod nano engraved with a happy birthday message from my parents, the only music loaded onto it was three albums of Rascal Flatts. Consequently, I fell in love with the twangy, predictable stories so typical of country music. As I got older, I realized country music was widely criticized for all the reasons I loved it, which led me to hide the fact that actually, I didn’t think it was that bad.
Cheesy 80s movies were another staple of my early years. My parents made a point to show me some of the classics and soon enough I couldn’t listen to the first bars of Footloose without bouncing my knee up and down and perfectly nailing the lyrics. I thought the music was infectious and I couldn’t get over how simple and happy the song and the movie were. This made it difficult when I realized a lot of people, even my own brother, flat out hated the movie and thought the song was–gasp–TOO bubbly.
After a while though, I stopped caring what other people thought of my choices. Even though we can’t all appreciate the majesty of country music and Footloose, everyone has something that makes them happy. Don’t ever feel bad about enjoying something, even if people don’t agree with you. And when you finally find that one special person that totally agrees that “Let’s Hear it for the Boy” is an acceptable anthem, well, you just became best friends. And that’s pretty cool.
