Thought Catalog

Long-form

When I heard there was going to be a Green Day musical a while back, I was ecstatic. My days as a teenage RENT-head had left me hungry for another kick-ass rock opera and at heart, I wanted to believe I was still that eighth-grader writing the lyrics to “Minority” on her trapper-keeper in white-out pen…

A good nickname is about description. You hear it and you know something about the person. You hear Babe Ruth called The Colossus of Clout (The Colossus of Clout!) and you know that he hits for power…

You want to buy the person donuts and a speedboat and a ruby necklace and a year’s supply of Oreo cookies and a signed Indiana Jones fedora on which Harrison Ford has written, “Please forgive the person giving you this fedora. They are so, so sorry! Xoxo, Han Solo.”

Maybe we’re laughing about how are we going to get necessities like Bloody Mary drinks this weekend to veil, a little bit, our anxiety about what would we do if anything really bad happened. And do we know how to make those life or death calculations, and would we mean something a little bit more than we do if we had to?

The place could be a city, a job, a relationship. The place could be California. Wherever you are, it is beautiful and you don’t want to be there. Distrust the reasons that lead you here. Read an article about how the clinically depressed are more realistic. Trust that instead.

Now, lots of people have made jokes at the expense of these three artists. And I’m not necessarily here to bury Vanilla Ice; I’m hopefully here to praise him. Because to me, “Ice Ice Baby” along with “The Right Stuff” and “U Can’t Touch This” were the pinnacle of recorded music. I could not listen to it enough.