Am I Mellowing Down?
Years back when I was still a teenager, there was this day when I was in my brother’s car, & my brother was listening to some Westlife CD during the drive. I was in the midst of the Evanescence-Linkin Park era of music preferences, so I remember sniggering at my big brother’s apparent “soft” choice of music.
“Gettting older lah, I’m mellowing down. When you reach my age, you will soften too.” So he said. “Nahh, no way!”, I bellowed. Never, I thought in my head, Avril Lavigne was the softest I could imagine ever reaching, but never wimpy-Westlife-fy-soft! N-E-V-E-R!
Now, I apparently should eat my words. Because I actually thought the Hannah Montana movie did not suck. WHAT?! I hear you.
Saving Miley/Hannah for later, let me see, the signs of me growing older characteristically were popping up as my years of university life reached its end. I discovered my machoism did have its rather sensitive side when I almost, I said ALMOST, ended up with tears welling up in my eye sockets when watching the heart-wrenching story of Grace is Gone. Then, worse, my so-called machoism totally gave way in Bridge To Terabithia, because when AnnaSophia Robb’s enchanting Leslie Burke died, there I was in a minimal yet existing amount of tears, clutching tightly my pillow. Shit. Damn you, AnnaSophia. Why did you have make Leslie so darn lovable?
I think a more obvious sign, quite a crowning moment of mellowness glory, is when I started to obliviously play, then replay afew couple of times more, a Westlife song, “Us Against the World”. I’ve never accepted any Westlife song in my playlist since the brilliant “Flying Without Wings”, let alone replay a HidupSelatan track quite a number of times. I remember that jackass Felix laughing his ass shit off when he hanged out in my room & heard my iTunes playing Westlife. So, with my bro’s words years back coming back to bite my ass, the thought of me apparently, finally, getting a little “softer” with age hit me.
Sure, my favourite is still the awesome punkness of Paramore, I still love Lifehouse (though they have mellowed down too) & Muse’s head-banging “A Map of Problematique” is at the top of my iTunes play count along with Coldplay’s “Lovers in Japan”, but the fact that I was listening to Westlife more than just a couple of times, almost instinctively & without realization, means something. Sure, I maintained some level of my machoism enjoying super-macho movies like 300 & the ka-boomness of Terminator Salvation. But I also very much loved the blissful romantic cheese that is The Notebook.
Since I have watched every other summer movie, & Monsters vs Aliens was full, she pulled me to watch The Hannah Montana Movie, featuring the girl with the shitty yucky vocals, Miley Cyrus.
To be frank, it was obviously a movie for Montana fans, & I was wa-a-ay too macho (so I thought) for Hannah-who?-Montana, but I was surprised, almost shocked, to find that my mellowness level has shot down so much that I actually thought the movie did not suck. The hip-hop “Hoedown Throwdown” moment was infectiously enjoyable, & “The Climb” finale scene was surprisingly quite fitting, though the execution of some snippets could have been better. I mean, did they really need to show Travis grinning at Miley like, a million times again & again? Yes, the acting chops of Billy Ray Cyrus were horrible to watch, & the plot is silly (about rediscovering her true Miley self, only to go back to being Hannah Montana, wtf?) but no one really cares since her fans will eat it up anyway. The fact is Miley Cyrus, as much as I dislike her, actually is quite endearing as a likeable Miley Stewart/Hannah Montana. This movie only cements my belief that she should really just stick to acting, since she sings like a constipated walrus on helium.
Not that the movie was not forgettable, it was, even with some cute cameos from Tyra Banks & Taylor Swift (& her even more beautiful Taylor Koa). But yeah, the Hannah Montana movie did not suck. Leslie Burke. Westlife. The Notebook. Hannah Montana.
“Getting older lah, I’m mellowing down…”
Boom clap. Boom de clap de clap. Pop it, lock it, polka dot it. Countrify then hip-hop it. Put your hawk in the sky move side to side. Jump to the left, stick it, glide!