Taylor Swift lives in my house and I want her gone. Her face is kudzued on the walls and her voice carries through each room. This isn’t about music snobbery, I’ve conceded that battle, this is about the other Taylor in my house, my teenage daughter, and her poor doomed soul.
When I was a kid, especially a teenager, I wanted to either be the starting center fielder for the Atlanta Braves or I wanted to be Diamond David Lee Roth. When I realized that my athletic ability was limited, and my rock star skills were suspect, I concentrated on writing. But I never lost that want to be artistic or extraordinary.
My Taylor is the same way. You’re going to learn something in the next 11 minutes. Feel free to comment, discuss, ask questions, argue, and wonder. Maybe, The Swifty and her Swiftness aren’t the worst thing to happen to music, at least culturally. Here’s Taylor, Taylor Swift and some old guy who needs a shave at The Kitchen Table, talking about the State of Taylor.
You heard her, my daughter said we could make this a weekly thing. Maybe next time I can get her to explain why she wears winter clothes in summer and summer clothes in winter.
Here’s my Taylor’s favorite song right now, State of Grace.