All
right. So, one of the things that I promised to do this year in my
blog was to cut back on the pop culture and insert more personal
stories. To share my goals and dreams, confess my biggest fears, and
finding it within myself to talk about personal details that up until
now, I've been afraid to talk about.
Today's
blog entry happens to be one of those instances. I chose the Sunday
Jukebox to debut this new format because I believe that everyone in
the world has a song playlist that reminds them of things. Some
songs are associated with personal memories such as a wedding, or
their first dance. Some songs remind you of someone very special.
And, in the case of today's song, the lyrics tell the tale of your
own life story.
So,
here's how the set-up of today's Sunday Jukebox will work. I'm going
to start by introducing the artist who sings the song. Then I'll
post the video of the song along with the necessary info (date
released, peak position, etc.). I'll offer up a couple of paragraphs
about how the song was recorded, which will include some trivia about
the recording process.
And,
to kick this entry off, I'll be talking about how the song
relates to my own life. Why I can identify with the song completely.
And, what, if anything, I've learned about myself from listening to
this song. I will warn you...sometimes when I talk about personal
accounts, I tend to ramble on. And, I'll let it be known right now.
I know a lot of you will disagree with my take on things. At the
same time, I know some will also be compassionate, and maybe take
comfort in the fact that they aren't alone in feeling this way.
So,
enough babbling. On with today's Sunday Jukebox entry. And, as it
so happens, the artist is one that I've talked about in this blog
before. I remember doing one entry on her and her sister in June
2011. I also did another piece on this singer from the Land Down
Under in February 2012. Funnily enough, the piece I did in 2012 was
done a couple of days before Valentine's Day, and the song was all
about the concept of “love at first sight”. In a weird twist of
fate, today's topic also deals with the subject of love, and this
entry is being posted two days before our songbird turns 45 years of
age.
Yes,
today we're going to be doing a blog entry on Kylie Minogue, who if
any of you have been reading this blog regularly, you know that I
find her absolutely gorgeous. Unfortunately, she's an absolutely
gorgeous woman that I have no chance in hell of dating, but a guy can
always dream, can't he?
And
the song that I've chosen is one that is quite meaningful for Kylie,
as it was one of her very first hits. Go on. Have a listen.
ARTIST:
Kylie Minogue
SONG:
I Should Be So Lucky
ALBUM:
Kylie
DATE
RELEASED:
December 29, 1987
PEAK
POSITION ON THE BILLBOARD CHARTS:
#28
NOTE:
The song actually did much better overseas, landing the #1 position
in the UK, Switzerland, Japan, Hong Kong, Germany, and Kylie's native
Australia.
So,
here's the story behind “I Should Be So Lucky”.
In
1987, Kylie was still hard at work playing the role of Charlene
Mitchell Robinson on the Australian soap opera, “Neighbours”. At
a charity event, some of the Neighbours cast members performed
classic songs for an audience, and Kylie decided to entertain the
crowd by performing a cover version of Little Eva's “Loco-Motion”.
That performance would help propel Kylie into a music career, as
“Loco-Motion” became an instant hit in Australia.
(In
North America, the single would not be released until 1988.)
Later
that year, after the success of “Loco-Motion” in Australia, Kylie
had secured a meeting with Mike Stock, Matt Aitken, and Pete Waterman
to record a new single. This was a big deal for Kylie as the team of
Stock/Aitken/Waterman had been responsible for giving Dead or Alive,
Samantha Fox, and Bananarama huge success in their native UK.
There
was just one teensy problem. The three men completely forgot that
Kylie was flying out to meet them at their London, England recording
studios, and when Kylie arrived, they had no song to give her!
It
was to their good fortune that Kylie was a patient person. While she
waited in the lobby outside the recording studio for approximately
three-quarters of an hour, the trio frantically scrambled to come up
with some impromptu lyrics for her to sing. It was Mike Stock who
came up with the idea for the single. He figured that someone like
Kylie who was a beloved soap actress in Australia, and who had the
beauty and skills necessary to become a huge star one day would have
one flaw in life. And, in the case of “I Should Be So Lucky”,
Stock came up with the hypothetical theory that Kylie's flaw was the
fact that she was unlucky in love.
INTERESTING
FACT:
Although Kylie's happily in a relationship with model Andres
Velencoso now, Kylie's love life seemed to mirror the lyrics penned
in her first big single. Her previous relationships have included
her former Neighbours co-star Jason Donovan, the late Michael
Hutchence, former frontman of INXS, and actor Olivier Martinez (who
is currently involved with Halle Berry).
Long
story short, “I Should Be So Lucky” was the one single that
really seemed to catapult Kylie Minogue into super-stardom. She was
immediately signed on to a four-album contract with
Stock/Aitken/Waterman and Mushroom Records, and the first of those
four albums, “Kylie”, was released in the summer of 1988. The
same year the song began charting and her first album hit store
shelves, Kylie left “Neighbours” to pursue a full-time music
career...and as of May 2013, Kylie's released eleven albums with a
twelfth one due out later this year. And, while Kylie's not quite as
well known here in North America, in Australia and the UK, Kylie is
as much a household name as Cher and Madonna.
So,
that's the first two parts of what I have promised that you would
find in this blog entry. You've been introduced to the song, and
you've learned some interesting facts about it.
Now
comes the hard part for me. How I plan to use this song and link it
to my own personal account. But, you know, I look at revealing new
information to people like pulling off a Band-Aid. If you hem and
haw about it and pull the bandage off as slowly as possible, it hurts
like heck, and causes you so much discomfort. At the same time, if
you yank it off quickly in one go, the sting will be more severe, but
only for a second.
So,
I tried to apply that analogy to my own confession for today, and I
figured that the fast, direct approach is the best way to go. So,
here goes.
Like
the Kylie Minogue song...I haven't been so lucky in love myself.
And, it's my own damn fault!
Wow.
That was a lot easier than I thought. Now I have to explain why
this is the case.
Okay,
so here's the skinny on yours truly. I just turned thirty-two years
old. And, in my thirty-two years, I have not had so much as a
significant romantic relationship that has lasted.
I
just want to reiterate something though. I have been on a few dates,
and contrary to my previous admission just seconds earlier, I do know
a lot more about the birds and the bees than you might think. And,
my lack of a relationship has nothing to do with the questioning of
my own sexuality. While I'm sure most of us have questioned our
orientations at some point in our lives, I do know who I am, and what
qualities I would look for in pursuing a romantic relationship with
members of the opposite sex.
It's
just that the problem with my being in a lack of relationship...it's
all on my shoulders. And, it took me this long to realize it.
I
guess I should explain why this has been the case. And, keep in mind
that what I am about to say is probably the most candid I've ever
been in this entire blog series thus far. But in order for all of
you to understand my feelings better (and for me to move one step
closer to complete freedom from the shackles that have held me down
all this time), I need to explain things.
I
don't think I can or really should go into complete detail over what
I really saw, nor am I going to name names or out people, because
that's not what this blog is all about. But what I can tell you is
that a lot of the relationships that I have witnessed in my childhood
were toxic, destructive, and dysfunctional. Mind you, most of these
relationships were centered more within my extended family, but that
isn't the point. When you're a child, and you see two people who are
supposed to claim that they love each other call each other nasty
names, slam doors all throughout the house, and even resorting to a
couple of physical attacks, it clouds your opinion of what a
“fairy-tale romance” is supposed to be. Believe it or not, I was
so exposed to some of these dysfunctional couplings that I had a
completely warped view on what love really was.
Whenever
I would watch television shows or films, I would always look at the
couples who showed genuine affection towards each other, filled with
hugs, kisses, and cuddles, and I would kind of stare at them blankly,
because it was imagery that I wasn't used to seeing. Their display
of what love was contrasted with the definition of love that I had
been shown myself. And, it really left me quite conflicted as to
which way was the right way for so long.
I
mean, when I was a kid, I couldn't always make the claim that I knew
the difference between right and wrong because a lot of kids have
trouble making that distinction during the first few years of life.
It's a common step in growing older and gaining more maturity in the
process, and as we all well know, some people seem to do this better
than others. But, when it came to the subject of love, I was so
confused at how love was supposed to be that I simply told myself one
day that I would never allow myself to fall in love with anyone.
And,
that's basically what's happened.
Oh,
sure, I did keep my heart open a little bit through my pre-teen and
teenage years, but over time, that opening closed a little bit more
with each passing day until I got to a point in my life where I
wasn't letting any love inside at all.
And,
I'm more than certain that a lot of people who know me very well have
probably seen signs of this in action, not really understanding the
motivation behind my actions...until now.
I
mean, let's face it. Everyone in the world probably knows all about
my absolute disgust with Valentine's Day. I was the kind of person
who poked fun at its very existence from the get-go. And, why
wouldn't I? It was a day where we somehow associate the tradition of
love and romance with someone who was locked in a tower, stoned, and
beheaded. Ain't that a lovely symbol of romance and passion?
To
me, Valentine's Day was always the one day of the year in which guys
gave girls chocolates so that six months later, the girls would have
the excuse to dump their boyfriends for making them fat. A rather
cynical and closed-minded view, I'll admit...but that was how I felt
because I didn't have someone to share the day with. I didn't have
anyone to love, nor did I have anyone to love me...
...because
my own view of love and romance was so horribly skewered.
I
also was one who used to make fun of those romance novels. Any book
with the words “Harlequin Super Romance” was fair game as far as
I was concerned. From the overembellished covers of a scantily clad
woman throwing herself at a man who strangely resembled the “I
Can't Believe It's Not Butter” guy, to the graphically detailed
scenes of love and passion inside the pages of said books, it took
everything in me not to respond with biting sarcasm, or to keep my
gag reflex in check.
At
the same time though, as someone who loves writing, I find that
romance is one of the hardest things to write about, and I think the
reason why I tended to poke fun at Harlequin romance stories was
because I was a smidgen bit jealous that those writers could make
writing about love, sex, and passion look so easy, while I couldn't
even make my stories about love seem even remotely believable...
...mainly
because of the lack of experience that I had in said subject.
Of
course, I made these facts well known. I talked about how much I
despised Valentine's Day at every opportunity, and I talked about how
I hated romance novels, and I talked about how I hoped that on an
episode of the Bachelor, one of the Bachelorettes would take control
of the limousine after they were cut loose from the show and back it
up over her former suitor and the other women still in the running...
...nah...that's
too violent even for me. How about if when the bachelor offers the
lady a rose, she promptly eats it, thorns and all. That'd be
entertaining.
But
you know what? All that talk about my hate of all things to do with
red hearts, roses in bloom and cutesy-poo teddy bears with heart
shaped noses and paws...that did nothing for me. If anything, it
probably kept the wall that I had built up around my heart
reinforced, which meant that it kept all future romance possibilities
out of reach.
And,
again, it's my own fault.
I
guess when it all boils down to it, I guess I've put in a lot of
effort over the years as to why I would NOT make the perfect other
half for someone else. My closed heart, along with my sarcastic
attitude regarding love mixed with a splash of self-deprecating
humour made me the perfect person to star in that television show
called “The Undateables”. It's true what they say, you
know...attitude is everything, and you only get one chance to make a
good impression on someone. I certainly don't believe that I made
really great impressions on any potential love interests that may
have presented themselves over the last few years.
And,
that's because my overall attitude on love has been conflicted, to
say the least.
Because
of the dysfunctional relationships that I was exposed to in my early
childhood, I was afraid to fall in love with someone else. What if I
started to yell at them the same way that the dysfunctional couple
did? What if I started to abuse them? I didn't want to put anyone
through that same pain, so I decided that I would avoid that pain by
not getting involved with women in a romantic fashion.
I
mean, let's face it. All the signs were there. I had the low
self-worth. I had the feelings of insecurity. I had the feeling
that I wasn't being heard. All of these traits are common things
associated with people who find themselves trapped in a loveless
and/or abusive relationship. And, I guess there was a part of me
that initially felt that I didn't deserve to have the experience of
falling in love with someone fully and completely, getting
emotionally and physically attached to them, proposing to them,
getting married to them, and starting a family with them. I didn't
want that because I was mistakenly lead to believe that all
relationships were doomed to be as dysfunctional as the ones that
littered the landscape of my extended family.
It
took a long, long time for me to take the needle off of that
depressing record and flip the script to a newer, more positive way
of thinking. Rather than focusing about how horrible a partner that
I would be to someone else based on the unhealthy relationships of
other people, I would instead focus on the kind of partner that I
would not want in my own life. I guess one blessing to having bore
witness to so many destructive “romances” in my extended family
is the idea that I'm not the person who is willing to settle for just
anyone. I don't believe in casual sexual encounters just to get the
experience, nor do I believe in getting involved with a person who
has a toxic attitude. So, maybe instead of looking at certain family
members and their screwed-up views on love and romance as a curse, I
should instead look at them as a blessing.
And,
I can honestly say that while I'm not quite there yet, I am opening
up my heart a little bit more to the possibility that there is
someone out there in the world who will love me for me, and who I
will love for who they are. And, if that means stepping out of my
comfort zone and finding a way to overcome the warped values
concerning love that I carried with me for years, I guess that's what
I'll have to do. And, maybe then, I can find myself lucky in love one day.
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