The Music in You

As he stared at the blank screen of the computer, he wondered how much longer he could do this. He was outgrowing his place in this world.

When he started out as a writer at 21, he was fresh. He knew everything, about everyone, and where to find everything that nobody else could find. He was the go-to guy for many cities. He was sought after by many news sources and magazines. If he said something was hot- it would become the next trend. He had that kind of influence.

But today, he can't even influence a toddler to wipe his own ass. His life is now coffee stains and sweatpants. A wife that no longer talks to him, 3 teenagers that tell him he is wrong on every current trend he writes about, and a toddler that won't stop staring at him.

"I need a dog," he thought to himself, as he considered the lost and lonely life he now has. Where there used to be 20 people at his apartment on any given night- there is now silence. A silence so loud it is deafening.

He started thinking about his early days of influence: MC Hammer pants, longest tail in class (why did the school girls always insist on pulling it?), and knowing all of the words to every pop song- regardless of what genre. He had somehow built the reputation of being the coolest kid. He maintained that image through all of school, college, his career writing for major newspapers, magazines, and being asked to attend events, talk shows. He knew everybody, but he never realized that everybody didn't mean any kind of bond, beyond a superficial party and night of fun.

He just didn't know where he belonged anymore. His teenagers were right: he is out of touch, because he had somehow turned into the old man; the one who didn't understand the kids today.

He had become his father.

The very thought of that made him stand up and go to fill his coffee. It was going to be a long day, and possibly night, if he can make it that long.

He met her at a school dance. It was 1994. It wasn't childhood love or a crush. When they finally started their slow dance, the song changed:

"You can't touch this...." They both started laughing, put their hands on their knees, and immediately started to slide off into dance- side to side.

It would be another decade before they saw each other again. She came to the dance with her friends- she lived on the other side of town, which went to the "bad schools". But in college, the would be reunited.

Their 15 year wedding anniversary is next week. She wants to have a dinner party, invite everyone who is anyone, and of course- make a speech to each other. "Why? We haven't been happy in years," he thought. It is hard to write about anything you're not passionate about, let alone something you're not even sure you like anymore.

But he didn't want to embarrass her either.

He tried desperately to get himself back to a place where he felt happy, for the purpose of punching this out. He tried desperately to just feel... and he wondered if everyone felt this way at his age. Are there people who are happily married, or do we all just pretend?

She walked in the room and with his old memories flooding, he stood up, and tried to spark a goofy moment, "You can't touch this..." and as he started to dance, she rolled her eyes.

"You don't remember? The day we met?"

She walked out of the room.

"Yeah, that's how we living and you know (You can't touch this.)"

He sat back at his computer, feeling more defeated than ever. He didn't want to go to the event tonight. He didn't want to pretend anymore. He definitely didn't want to have this anniversary party with someone he no longer loved.

"Either work hard or you might as well quit."

The deadline was here.

It was also time to get dressed.