Remember the 1972 song by the band Bread called "Diary"? It's a sentimental ballad about a guy who finds his girlfriend's diary under a tree and starts reading about how much in love she is with a wonderful guy. Warm fuzzies: until he gets to the end and discovers she's actually writing about another boy. Ouch.
Back in the day, we all felt sorry for the guy, who was noble and self-sacrificing enough to give up his girl and even wish her well with her soulmate.
Four of us were sitting outside the aerobics room the other day putting on our shoes after Yoga/Pilates class, and the instructor of the next class started playing her music. "Diary" came on.
"Wow, I remember that song!" said I.
Another fellow did, too. "Yeah," he said. "That cheating hussy! Isn't that just like a woman!"
"Hey!" I retorted. "He was the one reading her diary!"
"Maybe she left it there for him," suggested another.
Funny, in junior high we never considered passive-aggressive behavior. Interpretation of lyrics has certainly changed with forty years of interpersonal experience.
No comments:
Post a Comment