Topics of discussion:
Taylor Caniff (regrettably)
As I sat down tonight to write what was originally going to be a simple about me/intro tidbit I decided to put on some sweet wordpress-worthy, jazzy, imaginary-cigarette-hanging-from-the-lips type of music. You know the kind that makes you feel like Carrie from Sex and the City. Men, I know you know what I’m talking about, too.
After clicking on one of my go-to playlists on 8tracks (note: “Cold beer, nice view…press play” says it all) I decided to do something I only do once in a blue moon: scroll. Down I went, passing Lana Del Ray (thas my ho) and One Direction (haters gon’ hate) playlists…until I approached the “Trending” list. That’s when I saw it: a playlist with the title “Party with Taylor Caniff” and an accompanying photo of what looks to be a 14-year old with 18-year old abs and a baby-face that would make even Justin Bieber jealous. Who the fuck is Taylor Caniff?! And why would someone make a playlist in his honour? Apparently someone with the user name “Pink Princess Deena” (is this where I have to source her profile? I’m not down to jam with some legal issues.) Anyway, off to the all-knowing Google I flew.
(Just returned to my wordpress tab after scrolling (see it’s bad for me) down Mr. Caniff’s twitter page for an embarrassing amount of time, where I might add he has over 100k followers.) Taylor Caniff I have found out is basically a social media “celebrity” shall we say…famous for…nothing. The young man has cleverly ustilised the most powerful tool out there to generate hype: pre-pubescent girls. He’s cute, confident and had the nuts to just start posting shit about himself on the internet where girls were bound to fall in love with his little abs that haven’t yet been covered over by a layer of beer-generated fat. To top it off even his friends have gotten in on this charade and they are all part of something called MagCon? Basically they tour around the country making appearances to hundreds of girls, acting silly for a bit and selling t-shirts (yes, they ACTUALLY sell tshirts with their faces on them) to these screaming fans who will most likely be chucking those over-priced souvenirs into a bin within the year. Smart little boys you are $$$.
The point of me bringing up someone like Taylor Caniff is that if I were ten years younger I would probably have known about him and his little MagCon family ages ago and I definitely would be crushing on them. (The fact that I just used the word crushing dates me.) When I was in high school and college, my friends and I were always ahead of trends or at least caught on to them the second we got a whiff. It was so easy back then. I didn’t understand why my parents hadn’t heard of things that were so obvious to me at the time. Now here I am going through the same thing. I’m 23 going on 24 this year and am experiencing the unnerving realization that I’m not young anymore. Anyone who is older than me feel free to laugh with disdain at my exasperation but it feels that every year past the age of 21 is one step farther from our prime. It’s silly to think this way considering how long humans live now but thinking back to when I was younger, the ages of 18-21 seemed like the ones we were most looking forward to and anyone past that seemed so much older…and having now lived through those ages I can say that it actually does feel like I’m so much older.
We spend the first quarter of our lives wishing we could be older, wishing we could be 16 to drive a car, 18 to be legal, 21 to drink (legally anyway). Until the point where we pass 21 and just think…well what age am I supposed to strive for next? Shit, that was IT?! Nothing interesting until I’m 50? Yup. It’s official I’m old. Nobody I’ve heard of strives to be anything past 21. It never dawned upon m that I was reaching the end of this imaginary limit until probably my senior year of university when I turned 22 and realized that the cute boys I saw on campus could very easily be 18…or heaven forbid 17. These guys were potentially four-five years younger than me. THAT’S when it hit me. Suddenly I’m clawing at the calendar, trying to hold on for dear life as each month seemed to go by faster than the one before it. Then that fateful day arrived: university graduation. The official date for parents to strap on their boots and kick the kids out of the nest, forcing us to flap our scrawny little wings in the hopes that we’ll at least find a craggy little twig of a job upon which to land. Then we look back up at the young chicks still happily snuggled in the safety of the nest those bastards. (I’m not really that upset about it I just like any excuse to exercise under-used curse words.) All of a sudden we realize that we have passed into the state of adulthood where bigger concerns and real responsibilities like bills, student loan payments and rent become the focus in our lives and grossly overshadow even someone as amazing as Taylor Caniff.