Reflection at Kermit's serenade

Recently, nostalgia has come knocking and I gladly enjoyed her presence. I jumped into the old "what is the meaning of life" routine. Sure, I accept the futility of this question, but I also see some point in grounding one's self in the philosophically self-evaluative question games of "what if" and other similar reflective questions. It always starts with some random trigger.

I was listening to a CD that a good friend of mine made. On the CD she put a Sesame Street song. I listened to Kermit the Frog sing a song asking the question, "Why aren't there more songs about rainbows?" As I asked myself that question, I laid my head back and smiled broadly as Kermit's voice went slightly flat. As a child I never would have noticed the imperfection in Kermit's song. Songs were all pretty and nothing really had a way of being good or bad. I just liked singing, both heard and performed.

Today I'm not so generous with the different experiences I enjoy. I was an enormous rap fan from around the age of six until the deaths of Tupac Shakur and The Notorious B.I.G. It is interesting that when rap fell out of my favor, my reasons were largely qualitative. The lyrics put forth by rappers today not only have no resonance with what I experience; they also do not have much resonance with what the artists themselves experience. This creates for me a game of fantasy I have no desire to play.

It is ironic that many contemporary rap lovers care mostly for the "beats" in the music. I originally fell for, but now disdain, the "pop" feel that is hip-hop's only remaining good quality. 1990 legendary albums "Please Hammer, Don't Hurt Us" and "To The Extreme" by MC Hammer and Vanilla Ice respectively, both pulled me in for being poppy and catchy. The lyrics were no more socially redemptive than the parachute pants and lettered leather jackets of their artists. Still, the beat got me.

On that CD my friend made me she also put on a song she found by a professional recording artist. The song was the same song Kermit sang. I listen to the Kermit version much more than the higher quality song. Only for the sake of nostalgia is the choice possible in my present state of existence. My meaning of life has changed.

Maybe the normative standards are not always the most important part. I have missed that. There can be joy and beauty in imperfection. Not everything has to be done "well" to be good. So how do I transition from playing Track 4 more than Track 12, to enjoying what is instead of wishing for what if?

The simple solution (never simple to do) is the move from my youth to my adulthood. I listened as a young child to Sesame Street songs and anything my parents played on the radio. Then I entered school and hung out with my older brother. In those transactions I picked up MC Hammer, Vanilla Ice, and years of rap affections. I am not re-evaluating the Zen of Kermit.

The solution is simplicity. More than just simplicity, the solution is a solution of vulnerability. Being a deeper person than a beat. Understanding life in the context. Kermit was a larger part of an entity, Sesame Street, which was a large part of who I am. If we are able to be vulnerable, we can truly be ourselves without having to hide behind masks.