Thoughts And Prayers Are Nice But Are They Enough?: Looking For Hope While Orlando Begins To Heal

Today. Its 12:30 in the morning. Thank you for a new day. Thank you for the opportunity to hug my family, drive to work and debate with my coworkers later about what the heck happened yesterday.

Fifty people no longer get to do that. Fifty three more are going to have wait a while to get healthy enough again before they get to experience the joy of a cup of coffee or the rage of morning traffic while their favorite morning radio personality fills them in on the latest Justin Beiber gossip. 

For the first time in quite a while, I spent the entire day avoiding my phone, avoiding social media and avoiding the news. That was tough.  But boo-hoo, right? Remember the aforementioned 103 people…then their entire families, friends and the entire city of Orlando?

My reaction was strong. Instant tears. The only person I called was my best friend, who happens to be gay. I had the unfortunate duty to break the news to her as she was waking up. The tears didn’t stop. They haven’t stopped. I suppose that’s the funny thing about emotions and the human condition, these things don’t disappear with a new day. They can't. They rollover like our cell phone minutes when we all still carried a flip phone.

 

 Orlando is home to the “Deadliest Mass Shooting In US History.” Wow. Let that sink in, the gravity of that statement. It has taken me all day to really put into a cohesive thought my feelings and my reaction to this shooting. This is quite the terrorist attack; as the shooter, Omar Mateen, will probably successfully divide even further, this country with all of the hot button topics addressed here.

The LGBT community was hit hard last night. The very little I’ve been online checking Facebook and Twitter, my gay/lesbian friends have a shared feeling of fear and of hopelessness. The feeling that all the work and progress we’ve made still isn’t enough. The feeling that there are still more people in the world that hate them just because they are themselves.

The Muslim and Afghani people must also be terrified. Omar Mateen was affiliated with ISIS; too many people still refuse to learn about our American born or immigrated Muslim & Afghani friends because it is easier to compartmentalize our feelings of fear. 'The Orlando shooter was brown, so all brown people are bad!'

Omar Mateen legally obtained these guns. How much more gun control can there possibly be? It was also brought to my attention that there needed to be some kind of help. Fifty dead people and fifty three injured, requires quite a lot of bullets and reloading. Reports are saying they are looking for another suspect. Let the conspiracy theories begin. (And I’ve seen them starting to swirl on Facebook…i.e. “Another distraction for the American people as the government passes more laws without us knowing.” Oh, boy do they get worse.)

With the transgendered bathroom issue, the deeply seeded racism because of 9/11, and the ever revolving debate regarding gun control, ISIS did quite the number on Americans today. We are a nation that is angry with our government. We are having a hard time listening to one another because rather than learning to NEED each other, we are focused on being right.

There is no doubt in my mind that this is not the last of the violence. But, I really don’t think that ISIS picked a gay club because they hate gay people. I think they picked a gay club because we as a society can’t make up our minds on how to feel about the LGBT community. One second we are okay with them having their pride parades and being represented on television (even if some of us are saying things like “I don’t hate gay people, just don’t hit on me” or “just don’t make me watch it.”). The next second, half of us aren’t ‘okay’ with the LGBT community in our bathrooms. (I recognize how broad this statement is, but for arguments’ sake, let's roll with it.) No doubt, we like to debate this and we all like to be right and decide how others should live their lives.

The gun control issue is just about as bad as talking about abortion. I have a right to the choices I make for my body just as I have a right to bear arms. There are laws. They are strict. Let’s debate who is correct some more.

Throw in a shared fear of Muslims because of our deep-seeded racism. Wowza. This is quite the mix. If we weren’t divided before, you can sure as hell assume that we are now.

The worst part is, is that we aren’t. People are angry and the online posts on social media reflect that. We are scared. We feel helpless. No one can wrap their head around this and dammit, nobody should be able to.  But, are thoughts and prayers going to help? Are they going to bring anyone of those fifty people back? It will take me days to even begin wanting to read the profiles of the victims.

So what do we do? How do we feel un-helpless?

Yesterday was one of those days that makes me hate what I choose to do for a living. The media will be in circles over this for the next several weeks. Replaying the hate and forcing us to relive the terrorism, desensitizing us all and normalizing this monstrous act.

As a person in media, I hate to do that. I hate to force it down your throat repeatedly. Because you know what? Hate is not the only news. It just happens to be the only thing we report.

As a person in media, I believe that we report on things that are rare and extraordinary. It just so happens that the rare and extraordinary are hate-filled acts of crime and terrorism.  Which means that the reverse has to be true.

As a person, living and sharing this world with you, I believe that kindness is so common and that love is all around us.

As a person, who had a strong emotional breakdown yesterday because of the devastating news in Orlando, I’m not sending my thoughts and prayers. Rather, I plan to continue to share kindness and love. and I encourage you to do the same. Give it as freely as you feel comfortable. Document it. Post it online. Share those stories. No matter how small. High fives, giving a friend a ride, donating blood, giving a homeless person a meal, sitting with an elderly person to have a conversation. These are the stories that will keep us sane over the next few weeks as the media endlessly reports this. These stories of kindness and love will keep us united.

Stay in love with life, my friends.

 

 

Pink- "Who Knew."

 I saw her perform this live shortly after my ex husband and I separated during a show I went to with one of my dearest friends. Pink, a proud LGBT activist, is strong and, like most strong women, she feels incredibly deeply. This song always spoke to me as losing the most important people in your life way too soon or without even realizing it. Although I knew no one affected by the tragedy in Orlando, many family members and friends did  lose someone and many more were affected. The range of emotions they will go through the coming days, months even years...my heart breaks for them. An appropriate song for those who lost someone yesterday way too soon.

Apartment Hunting In Los Angeles Is The Worst Thing Ever

May has been an incredible month for me! It has been the highest grossing month in terms of voice over work. Hash tag Humble brag. But, I’ll ignore your momentary judgement, because I had to bust my ass and work really hard to save up, which means I’ve had to sacrifice a few things. Make enough money to save up for my own place? Or go out on the open mic circuit and continue to work on jokes in hopes of being seen by the right person that wants to hear my television pitch. Money triumphed…this time.

So, I’ve begun the process of apartment hunting; this is the goal I’ve been working so hard to accomplish. But the process is exhausting. Everything is done online, but you can’t get access to information about making an appointment until you sign up through this rental company’s website. Then you email and wait. Text a million craigslist ads and every single one is a scam. Or already filled.  Then there is that magical moment where someone actually picks up the phone!! But then you tell them that you want to move in 2 weeks and the reply is always the same. “Call me back then.”

What? Why? Don’t you want my deposit right now? Prorate my rent for half the month and call it a day. Are there people really roaming around right now looking to move, tonight? Is their stuff packed and ready to go, right now? Are these people refugees? Who is moving today that hasn’t already picked a place to go?

What I’m finding out about living in Los Angeles is that everything is at our disposal. If you can’t do it right now, someone else can. If I can’t get what I want here right now, I can go somewhere else. We have everything and expect it too.

This doesn’t just apply to tangible things either. There is this sense that people need to be able to give whatever they’ve got to get what they want. People in the biz work harder and faster than anywhere else I’ve lived. (And that’s been quite a few places).

You want to be rich/famous/powerful/insert your own idea of success here…then at a moment’s notice you need to have time to record, edit, create, write, be funny, spontaneous, thoughtful and have the best idea anyone’s ever heard. This sounds ridiculous, right?

That’s what I thought when I was told repeatedly today to call back when I’m ready to move. But it occurred to me, that this town always gets what it wants. Those who can ebb and flow with the forever changing and unpredictable heartbeat of the city are the ones that make it to be rich/famous/powerful/insert your own idea of success here.

But, are these the people that have to sacrifice to get what they want? Did they have to work late nights? Did they have to skip out on fun things? Maybe. Is the apartment going to make anyone rich/famous/powerful/successful? No. But I started planning ahead so I could FIND a decent place in a geographically desirable area. Now, apparently, just like everything else in this town, I have to compete harder, faster and think smarter than everyone else just to have a home.

I knew this town could be ruthless….but shit. I didn’t expect it to be so over housing, too. A bruising to my ego because you don’t get my talent? Pfffft. Dealing with that emotional trauma now, is a breeze. Being told my money is no good because it’s not useful “today.” Whew…that landed like my 22 year old self after a night of binge drinking. Heavy and hard.

SO, I suppose this is me pullin up my knickers to do the dirty work and get smarter and faster and work harder than everyone else that wants my apartment too.

Happy Apartment hunting. Welcome to L.A.

 

Ray Charles "Hit The Road Jack"

And dontcha come back no more no more no more no more....

This is exactly how I felt when the leasing agents/officers said "Call me when you are ready to move in!" Ouch. Kicked to the curb. But, now we will have this lovely song stuck in our head.

 

Dear Mom: Aging Is A "B" And You're Doing It Beautifully

 

Dear Mom,

I thought through my entire life that you have never aged. To me, for some reason, you have always been 36 years old. I think this was the age you were when I remember really paying attention to what it meant to be a woman. Yes, even though it took me a while to show you I am attentive. I am your entire front row and your number one fan. Whether you know it or not, you have been and still are a great example of what it means to be a woman and a good human being.

Remember when I went to prom? I don’t know how old you really were, but to me, you were 36. Pre-prom, I was embarrassed that you wanted so many pictures. But your wise 36 years knew better and took them anyway, because you knew this was an important moment that you wanted to cling on to together for many years to come.

Then there was that time I graduated high school. You couldn’t possibly have been 36, but I remember you as such. Jeez, I couldn’t be bothered hanging out with someone so old. This was an accomplishment I wanted to celebrate with my friends. But you worked your ass off too, sacrificed and goodness knows what else to watch me walk at graduation. Your experience helped you turn your cheek with patience and you threw a party for me anyway. You were still proud and wanted to spend time celebrating an accomplishment that you too, were a large part of.

Sometime later, I went away for my first big-deal-grown up job. You were still 36. Somehow, that seemed more approachable, but I still wasn’t ready to take advice from someone who hadn’t been on an interview in…jeez, however long. You knew better and gave me your ‘life lessons’ anyway.

One time I got married, and I thought you were still 36. I was about to make a huge life decision and all I could think was “What does my mom think?” I went searching for the youthful, yet oh-so-wise 36 year old that I didn’t mean to ignore until my late 20-somethings.  You were there but you weren’t 36 anymore! Life had shown in your beautiful, human face. It was like I was discovering you for the first time, and as one of my favorite people. You didn’t look 36 like I had remembered, but you felt the same. You said the same stuff. This time I wanted to hear it. I craved your advice and wisdom. I wanted to hear all of the stories about when you got married, got your first job, graduated, went to prom, or even just stories about your own mom.  I just wanted to talk to my mom and the friend I didn’t even realize I had all along.

Then one time I got divorced. I wished you were 36 because then you’d have the energy to stay up all night and cry over several bottles of wine with me.  I’d even take a night full of your infamous “life lessons.”

Well, you aren’t 36, and that is OK! You are my mom and you are aging beautifully! I’m getting so close to 36 and I’m wishing I had spent more time watching you age so gracefully.

You do it with a sense of humor. “Aging ain’t for the faint of heart,” you’d giggle with your best friend over mutual, pesky aches and pains.

You do it with a sense of wonder. You like to get up and check it all out. You will stop at every garage sale, just to see, to touch, to learn and to explore. “I wish I had that kind of time,” I’d tell myself. Really, I envy your patience and ability to 'live-in-the-moment.'

You do it with curiosity. During a visit, you didn’t even hesitate to climb aboard a 4-wheeler and take a few laps around the yard. I’m pretty sure you squealed like a little kid and I’ve never laughed harder watching you have so much fun!

You age with courage. You speak your mind better than anyone I know.  You stick up for people that don’t (feel like they) have a voice.

You aren’t physically 36; I'm angry at myself because the years have flown by and I haven’t taken full advantage of that front row seat I have. Please know, I’m watching you and still learning what it means to be a woman and a good human.  I aspire to be just like you: a timeless, classic, beautiful soul.

Love you,

Mags

 

 

 

Rod Stewart "Forever Young"
I picked this song for a not-so-obvious reason, although it fits well for this subject matter. I remember my mother, sister and I would take so many road trips. My sister and I piled into the backseat of her gray Nissan Pulsar, feet dangling out the window because of how stinky they were after a long day of walking around. This song was played in heavy rotation on the radio and I remember watching mom in the mirror mouthing the words to the song. The hills rolled passed our speeding car and I just sat thinking about what this song was all about. Little did I realize this is all about parents trying to keep their kids young forever. But Mom, I want you to know, to me, you will remain "Forever Young."

Shocking New Study: People Actually See What You Post Online

SOCIAL MEDIA! Twitter, Facebook, Instagram...even SnapChat, Periscope and Meerkat. I hate to admit it, but on the worst days, I depend on new likes and new friend requests to validate me. I have a social media plan, so that without spending money, I can grow my Twitter following. I work at my social media profiles. I recognize that the concept is disgusting, but I know I'm not alone.

Twitter is one  of my favorite things in the world because I get more than 75% of my news of the world, from Twitter. Facebook, radio and my sister, in that order, fill in the other 25% of where I get my information. I use Twitter to connect with other comedians and gain followers that share my sense of humor. Sometimes I try out new jokes or just share ideas and stories I find intriguing. But mostly, I use Twitter to stand on the fake soap box of the interweb to validate my hilariousness.

Last week, I had a very real reminder that people pay attention. Not everytime. Not every Tweet. But if you put your thoughts out there, there are very real consequences to what you say. This, is a terrifying thought to me, because my entire career has been built upon being transparent, open with my experiences, and connecting to others through my feelings.

Here's what happened: I woke up one morning late last week. I love to get up in the morning because I look forward to that first cup of coffee. Where everything is quiet and you don't have to dive into your day just yet. I wander into the kitchen to realize, we are out! I was heartbroken. Angry, heartbroken and looking for a fix. So I took to Twitter to comedicly vent about my serious disappointment.

I thought it was mildly amusing. But, in reality, I was complaining and got rewarded. I know that this turned into a positive experience, but two things come to mind. A) I didn't write that statement to get free stuff. I wrote it because I thought it was funny and someone else might relate. B) It shocked me that someone that I've never met, noticed, responded and engaged with me. The Tweet made so much of an impact that they (the Nestle company) felt compelled to reach out and help me fix my caffeine problem. That's powerful stuff.

Now, let's for a moment imagine, I Tweeted how excited I was about an upcoming vacation. Seems simple and harmless. But again, the magic of Twitter is that anyone can see that. A few key strokes to find out where I live and I could get back from vacation to an empty apartment.

What if I was sharing things like, where I work, where I go for runs, what comedy shows I'm performing at or checking in at restaurants when I'm having a night out with the girls? Oh wait, I do that already. Usually I post those things thinking "No one really cares...it's just a cute picture." But anyone, ANYONE, even a corporation like Nestle, can see that and show up at any event. Great for businesses, scary for a woman with a crazy ex-boyfriend.

This quick lesson in "Anyone or everyone could be watching" doesn't even touch on the targeted marketing that happens when you post about your life. Did you type that you had a great time shopping with your bestie today? Hmmm, suddenly Forever21 and Old Navy ads start popping up on the side of your Facebook....that's a coincidence! Did you just announce an engagement? Those ads for wedding dresses weren't there last week! Nestle, for example, saw that I needed coffee, and wanted to promote their new product. IN A HUGE WAY! That is really cool marketing.

Targeted marketing ads are interesting to me, and not just because Nestle sent me a free coffee machine.  In fact, targeted ads

This was delivered to me by Nescafe!

do not bother me at all. If I want something, I don't want to wander aimlessly in Target for three hours trying to find what I'm looking for. Put it up on an online ad and tell me what store it is at. I'll go there and get it. (Not that I don't have time to wander at Target for three hours, I just don't have pockets deep enough for that kind of trip).

It's just another example that anyone or everyone is watching what you say all the time, even if you don't feel validated in the amount of likes, shares, or new friend requests you receive.


So here's my list of "Be safe and smart social media posting rules:"

1. Don't say anything that you wouldn't want to talk to your parents about.

2. Remain positive. (Bad days happen, but blasting on Facebook that your company is stupid and you'd do a better job than your boss is a recipe for unemployment. Try "Damn, this was a tough day. Good thing there is a bed with my name on it!)

3. Be insightful. Don't just post for the sake of posting. Have a thought, however goofy, weird, or out there it might be.

4. Post things that you want people to talk to you about in real life. (Don't know a lot about politics? Then unless you want to get into a debate with a coworker about that Trump article you just posted...just, don't.)

5. NEVER EVER EVER post where you live and only share where you will be if it is to promote an event at a place you feel comfortable.

These are not steadfast rules. Again, I have based my career and life goals around being open and honest so that I may connect to other people. So for me, social media helps me do that in a big way.  You may find that a different set of rules helps you navigate web-space better, safer or at least smarter.

Happy posting and remember, anyone and everyone is watching!

The Police, "Every Breath You Take."

This song was written by Sting in 1982 in half an hour. Most people think it's a comforting love song but he wrote it with Big Brother in mind. It's actually about surveillance and control. Released in 1983 (same as me!) I figured THIS was the perfect song to relay and summarize the message of the blog. Who knew this song would stay relevant for so many years?

My First Week: Thank You to My Work Angel Mark Wallengren

My first week on the job has been humbling and so very very exciting! The first thing I tell my friends and family that call for updates is: "I'm surprised at how much there is left to learn, and THAT is the best part." I have been working in radio on and off for over 12 years because of a love/hate relationship with myself. My last position was programming, which was tough. I liked the challenge, but after my boss started missing weeks of work at a time, I was getting less and less feedback. I grew anxious for more direction, although I didn't need it, I longed for it. I enjoyed making important decisions and creating a station that everyone was talking about. I loved the team and I loved the listeners. But I left because I felt I hit a glass ceiling. I felt I had nothing left to learn. No where else to go.

I moved to Los Angeles with the intention that I was going to make it in comedy. I still have that intention, along with several other major goals. In the mean time, I HAVE to pay bills. I need to eat and pay rent. The idea of bending over backwards (literally) for some ridiculous web cam scam is out of the question. (And it was brought up. Ick.) "Why don't you wait tables?" Um, then how would I have time to perform at night? No thanks.

The only thing I'm good at...scratch that...the only thing I WANT to do...is radio. I've always loved this business. Every aspect of it is different but exciting! It gets my gears going. I just GET it. So I clawed my way into the door. I tweeted at a major radio station until they looked at my resume. They didn't. I bugged the few people I knew to mention my name. They didn't. I applied for every available job with every company in the market. Until...finally...someone read my resume and called! AH!

KOST 103.5, an iHeart Media station was curious about me. I came in for my first interview and met the gentlemen who would soon become my boss(es). I say this because the man I work for most closely, the person who has been in this industry for more years than he'd probably ever admit, Mark Wallengren, is the kindest human being I've met in a long time. He has the same energy and drive for radio that I do. He loves each and everyone of his listeners. He respects all the people that work together to make KOST 103.5 a great station. Wallengren has a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, for crying out loud, and is still one of the most humble, down to earth people I've had the pleasure of meeting.

As my first week comes to a close, it has been full of mistakes, crazy conversations, and chaos. But Mark has yet to be cross. Rather, he has been supportive and extra considerate. He has gone out of his way to introduce me to his/our fellow employees. They all say the same thing "Good luck workin' with this guy!" But they all say it with the same "You are so lucky" tone. One of the first things he told me on Monday: "My wife cannot wait to meet you!" What?! OMG! I can't wait either!

Sure enough, his family came in this afternoon for a quick visit. She was so excited to introduce herself, I hugged her. I couldn't help myself! In fact, his whole family was so wonderfully supportive of him and happy to meet me, a stranger, all based on his pride for his work.

Mark Wallengren has every reason to float away with an ego. Yet, he doesn't. He hasn't. I haven't tapped into how he has done it, but I feel privelaged to know him. His energy is contagious, his smile infectious and you can tell his listeners feel the same way. I'm eager to work hard for him. I look forward to a long time professional relationship. 

If anything, he has rekindled my faith in this industry, the value of letting your work and positive attitude speak for itself, and that there is still so much to learn as long as I stay curious. I'm curious! Actually, I look forward to going to work everyday to try new things, learn something new, and play.

Thank you for the opportunity iHeart Media. And my most sincerest gratitude for you being yourself, Mark Wallengren. You are my Work Angel. You've made a nobody feel like a somebody. You may never realize how important that is during this 'nobody's' first week. Thank you, thank you, thank you...I hope I have the opportunity to pay the kindness forward.

I chose Glen Campbell's "Try A Little Kindness" because Mark Wallengren embodies the spirit of the song. Despite every reason he has to be an egomaniac, demanding, and entitled, he couldn't be more open minded and considerate of everyone else around him. Enjoy this classic!

Facebook is a damn liar: We are not happy all the time.

Social media does this adorable thing where it makes us, humans, look happy all the time. Well, that simply can't be! We just have to run the gambit of emotions; it only makes sense in our binary way of thinking that in order to be happy, one has to be sad sometimes. But if we really studied Facebook, then we must be one happy group of people. This isn't true and there are multiple studies on the subject. Facebook, specifically, makes us sad. Depressed, even.

I wanted to use this as a disclaimer because OF COURSE we only post happy shit on there. If we post negative stuff we wouldn't have any friends because no one wants to be around a Debbie Downer all the time.

My social media posts are quite exciting. I have to actually look at my own Facebook sometimes to remind myself how much fun my life is right now. I have to do this because most of the time, this is not how I feel. Most of the time, I feel alone, isolated, bored, too tall, too fat, not funny, lonely, hungry, and really broke. Did I mention I feel lonely?

Los Angeles is a tough place to live and work. It is a land of opportunity and where some dreams come true, but those opportunities come to those with an incredible drive and somehow live above the threshold of fear. The people that never stop giving of themselves creatively and emotionally are the ones that make those dreams come true. But dammit, it is difficult to live like that. I spend most of my day in the car. Alone. I have no radio (right now) so I'm forced to listen to Pandora or iHeart Radio App or podcasts. Most of the time I sit in silence and go over new jokes I want to deliver at that evening's open mic(s). Then I sit in a crowded room where you are expected to be quiet and pay attention to the performer on stage. I wait my turn, do my set, then return to my seat. There is a little interation after the show to say "Thank you for the opportunity" or "Thanks, I thought you were great too!" Then I get in my car and repeat until I'm too tired or out of money to pay for parking.

The mornings are just as bad. My only real connection is to the yoga video I put on in the morning. Then I sip on coffee while I work from my home studio doing a recording or just marketing myself for more work. Maybe I'll get lucky and on my run that morning I'll cross paths with another runner and they actually respond to my high five attempt. But that's it. That's what my interations are like. Short and shallow. It's lonely here and I'm having a hard time making friends that don't want to fuck me.

I felt it was really important to share this because everything does look amazing on Facebook. And, quite frankly, I don't really have anything to complain about because life, on the outside looks pretty great. The weather is wonderful, I'm working for myself as a voice talent and I get to perform stand up more than once every night if I want to. But I'm lying if I said that I don't need to make new friends; or that I didn't want people in my life that lived here that just wanted to hang out and watch TV and drink a few beers on a Friday night. Or, at least a friend that wanted to get in the damn car and hop around to different open mics with once in a while.

Again, I'm not complaining. I just wanted to share the very real experience behind the scenes. The struggle that I deal with alone. We all look happy as fuck online, but sometimes that is an amazing front. So I wanted to share my experience because life is hard and dreams don't come easily. or overnight. It's a lot of work with a lot of struggle and I just wish there was a friend that was going through it too.

I do realize that I can call any number of people and vent and chat at any time, but there really is something to just having a friggin human to hang out with that wants to go to shows or go shopping or grab coffee or sneak into Disneyland or people watch at the beach because you are too broke to do anything else. The "just exist next to me and see where the night goes" friend is invaluable. They are hard to find and even harder to keep. So if you have one, give them a damn hug and buy them a beer. Then don't take a damn picture and post it anywhere on social media all night because you might jinx something really friggin great.

I chose "Eleanor Rigby" by The Beatles for this post's song because I figured...I am hoping that I am not the only lonely one in Los Angeles. Plus, It's a great song.

Dammit Beiber: I'm Sorry I Liked Your Song So Much

There is a song playing on the radio right now that is such an ear worm to me; I dance every time it comes on and really enjoy how I can barely make out the words. Justin Beiber's "Sorry," has been on repeat in my head for over a week, now. It's catchy and fun and doesn't sound like anything else on the radio right now. I never thought I'd say it, but I like a Justin Beiber song.

Over the course of the week, I became obsessed with this idea that me, of all people, would like a Beiber song. (I'm not turning into a Belieber, I promise!). I searched the lyrics and the video; now I want to share what I found and why it makes me so angry. Here is the first verse:
"You gotta go and get angry at all of my honesty
You know I try but I don't do too well with apologies
I hope I don't run out of time, could someone call a referee?
'Cause I just need one more shot at forgiveness
I know you know that I made those mistakes maybe once or twice
By once or twice I mean maybe a couple a hundred times
So let me, oh let me redeem, oh redeem, oh myself tonight' Cause I just need one more shot at second chances"


The song is so upbeat and catchy that when paired with these lyrics the juxtaposition is bizarre. I get the sense from the just the lyrics that this is a young man who clearly knows he lost a good thing but can't help his own stupidity. He wants to apologize but doesn't know how to do it in a meaningful and sincere way. The playfulness of the melody, however, says to me that he is young and perhaps trying to downplay his feelings for her. Here is the chorus:

"Yeah, is it too late now to say sorry?
'Cause I'm missing more than just your body
Oh, is it too late now to say sorry?
Yeah I know that I let you down
Is it too late to say I'm sorry now?"

The music slows down a bit for the chorus suggesting he is ready to apologize for his mistakes. He is trying to show that he can be a bit serious. It's been a while since she left because he is feeling the actual heart ache that comes with a break up, not just the "now-I-have-to-make-love-to-myself" blues. The beat picks up again and he repeats "Sorry" several times, the equivalent of a child asking "Mom, mom, mom, mom." until mom gives in and gives the child what they want. Again, the melody underneath is brilliant, fun and not annoying like the child in the aforementioned scenario. I can see why the woman would have fell for him in the first place, but also why she would have left.

Lyrically and melodically, I love what Beiber is doing. Whether or not any of this was intentional if he even wrote it himself, this song has some depth to it and I appreciate how it is clean and sentimental and sweet.

The music video that accompanies the song is a damn cluster-fuck. There are probably a dozen women in the video, all wearing sunglasses and outfits that are not overtly sexual but not flattering either. No two women look alike and if there is anything I applaud in this video is the variety of the shapes of women. None of the women dancing in this video look traditionally beautiful or even cute the way they are made up and dressed. Perhaps this is my version of being too old to know what's up.

The women are dancing in a way that is very sexual. They sink down in low squats to thrust their hips in unison while each touching parts of their bodies in a quick fast paced manner. I'm a big fan of dance videos and as far as dancing goes, these ladies NAIL it. But why, WHY? do they touch themselves? Why does the camera cut off their bodies to only show their hips or chest or stomach? If this man asking to apologize and saying he misses more than just her body and her touch, insist on showcasing these women for just that? The sex.

I'm not saying I don't like the video. Not at all. I just think the choice was weird and that he missed an opportunity to continue to explore the depth of the song. Perhaps he got caught flirting with a bartender on a tropical vacation with his lady. She leaves and now he's left on this island knowing she is there but not with him. I think Beiber makes it very clear that he wants a woman who isn't going to challenge him or think too hard. Which is fine. I'm just disappointed, probably more in myself for liking the song so damn much and then I let myself down by watching that video and hoping for something more. I know better now.