can't stop the weird smell

Deconstructing The Fantasy Boyfriend: The Musician

In categorically uncategorized. on July 1, 2011 at 12:20 am

Fantasy boyfriends. We all have them. The men we dream about dating: doctors, scientists, explorers, pilots, brilliant academics. Some are better than others. Let’s start with the worst: Musicians.

Musicians are not men. They are people who happen to be male. It’s not that they can’t do things that real men can do like change a light bulb, hold down a job, buy you dinner or discuss topical issues of the day, it’s just that they don’t really need to.

Light bulbs are unnecessary. Their talent can illuminates a room. There is no time for day jobs because they’re already performing three hours a week. And besides, “What if I get suddenly need to go on tour? Then I’m just going to have to quit, anyway.”

And dinner? No need to go out. He’s already eaten. By the way, you’re running low on potato chips. Would you mind picking up a few things for him at the grocery store? (He’s helpfully jotted them down for you on the notepad beside the fridge.)

Fortunately, the sparkling conversation always makes up for their oblivion to housewares, generating income and dining-out. You will often be bowled over by thought-provoking inquiries on topics such as aesthetics, sexual rites and current affairs: Are they more handsome on a Tuesday or Friday? How do you feel about giving him a blow job in ladies room at Starbucks? Didn’t you find his performance at [insert any dive bar] far superior than Michael Buble’s recently released DVD, “Live at Madison Square Gardens?”

Admittedly, before I started dating a musician, I didn’t fully understand what it took to be an artist of his caliber (I mean, do you know how hard it is to win a Juno?!). For example, as a Great Talent, you must spend hours a day cultivating your gift through technical exercises that foster introspective thought and creativity.  These, to the layperson, are known as video games.

One must dedicate at least nine hours a day to this activity as it gives the artistic mind a chance to weave through the creative process, somersaulting and churning out important cultural contributions to society. Time spent with great literature can also facilitate artistic growth. No one can dispute the creative benefit reaped from reading about the adventures of two men named Lorenzo and Florin who roam around Middle Earth pretending not to be gay.

When a musician takes a girlfriend, it’s because he needs an administrator, a cheerleader and somewhere to sleep (only the untalented pay rent). His career aspirations become your part-time job because he is simply too absorbed in Lorenzo and Florin to go out and hustle up some gigs, update his website, return his manager’s call or brush his teeth.

Eventually, the glamour of being musician’s girlfriend fades.  The evenings hanging around other musicians who have no discernible source of income, the babysitting of the men with no discernible income, but who always seem to have money for alcohol. (Theirs, not yours.) There is attending all the fancy performances in places that smell like feet and perfunctory sexual relations. (Is it possible your face has become permanently frozen in feigned admiration?)  Then there are the nights in the studio where he comes home at 3AM, drunk and wants to engage you in an earnest discussion about how his new album is going to change the world. And would you mind undoing his shoelaces because he can’t seem to find his feet.

When you break it off with them (and you will), they will be confused. But only momentarily. For it suddenly becomes clear that you never really understood their genius and how important their music is to Canada.

Or Middle Earth.


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