I have a confession. I love bad pop music. Love, as in scream Top 40 at the top of my lungs while driving. Love, as in annoy many training partners singing it during rest periods (or long rides). Love, as in bombard my teammate with the "best new bad lyric" of the day. I know it has no musical value. And is akin to the nutritional value gained from my love of fake whipped cream on hot chocolate.
I never expect to gain anything from this guilty pleasure. Nor to actually applaud a pop artist for doing anything positive.
So imagine my surprise when I saw this
My coworkers (all Marines) and I watched this the day it came out, and all had the unanimous thought of "this should be a recruiting video." For the first time I can remember, something in the pop-realm made me proud to be a Marine. In the mist of you-tube videos of Marine urinating on Taliban bodies, documentaries on the atrocities of sexual assault at our showcase Barracks, and lawmakers pointing fingers at senior leadership about hazing, suicide and drug & alcohol abuse, the Corps is due for a little good press, even if it's from a pop-star.
And while my time in the Marine Corps has been must less than video-worthy (I mean, I can't quite sing and dance like her, and have yet to find someone willing to follow me around with a camera and edit my life into a 4 minute star-spangled extravaganza), I applaud Ms. Perry for bringing a few truths to light for the sugar-pop community.
First, Katy, thank you for not sexifying the uniform. Far too often, we are presented with images of pop stars or celebuants in cropped shorts and cammo belly-shirts, sporting fishnets and thigh high replicas of combat boots, toting plastic rifles in the name of "being patriotic." I'm not sure what would happen if I decided to alter my uniform as such, however I'm pretty confidant that they would not see it as a love of country. In breaking from this mold, the California Girl traded icecream-cone bras for USMC-issued cammies and skivvy shirts with no modification whatsoever.
But more important than the aesthetics is the message of the video: The "part of me" that no one can take is that part that is not afraid to do something hard for the greater good. As I said in a previous post, I'm at a transition point in my life, and wrestling with what it will all mean once I am out. But as I am transition, I know that there is a part of me that cannot be changed or taken. It's the part of me that gave myself to service. The part of me that through heartbreak and headache, loneliness and overwhelming crowds, overworked days and sleepless nights knew deep down that nothing I was doing was for me, and yet it was all mine.
When I look at the next year - hell, when I look at the next day - there are a million and one things I feel that I have to do that I want to hide from. Tomorrow I am racing my bike, and a million and one pedal strokes make me want to cringe. Next week I'm going to Colorado to learn more about my school life, do a little solo training camp, and spend time learning more about the boy's world and make up for months of phone calls getting to look into his eyes when I talk to him. A million and one seconds of unknown moments. Next year I'm moving and becoming a student and racing my bike in a new land. And I feel like I've spent a million and one moments preparing for it, yet know nothing at all. I want to know that I will race well enough for my new team, be creative and sharp enough for my new school, and be the light of my new boy's life. But this will all take a million and one more moments to figure out. And, in the mean time, I'll just hold on to that part of me that's all mine.
To think.... all of this was spurred by a silly pop song.
No comments:
Post a Comment