Ignorance is Bliss

This morning my journey into healthfulness took an unexpected and slightly disturbing turn...(Healthfulness? That's a word? Seriously? Ok spell check, if you say so....)

My sister has recently enlightened me to the evils of flouride, and so I have switched to using natural flouride-free toothpaste. Now any of you who have used natural toothpastes might be aware that as far as flavour goes, a lot of brands are quite hit and miss. Some leave you with a simple fresh mint taste, other's with the aftertastes of strange flavours like calendula and stevia, and still others are reminiscient of those times in your childhood where you used a foul word in front of your parents....

Out of necessity I have been trying to switch up the kinds I use to find one I like. Last week I was in the local organic market after my yoga class (Oh god...I know how that sounds, I am not a hippie. I swear I am not a hippie. I shave and use deodorant just like everybody else and I have NEVER liked patchouli.). I was perusing the natural toothpaste and soaps aisle as I pondered with apprehension the disapproving glances I would receive for forgetting my cloth grocery bag and having to use paper at the checkout, and wondering if there was any way I could carry an armful of celery, a bag of onions, a carton of milk and a frozen chicken two blocks without a bag....

My eyes fell on a promising looking tube of cinnamon-flavoured toothpaste. Cinnamon? Cinnamon is normal right? At least it has to be more normal than "calendula". I don't want my mouth to taste like I got hunger pangs in a florist's shop again.

I bought it, got it home and tried it. It seemed alright. Tasted fine. Seemed to do the job. However, the texture was odd. That and it was brown. Brown. So I got the bright idea of looking at the ingredients.

The ingredients were listed as follows: " purified water, xylitol, cinnamon essential oil, tea tree oil, clay". Clay.

Clay.

Clay. As in the brown stuff in the ground. As in dirt.

...I have been brushing my teeth with dirt.

So apparently I'm posting song lyrics now...

This is a song I wrote during a brief phase I went through earlier this year. There were a few months in which I decided it would be a good idea to go to open mic's about twice a week with my ukulele in tow and critically compare myself to all the well seasoned musicians I played next to who were all apparently impervious to cases of nerves and stage fright.  The end result of this brief period of masochism every Sunday and Wednesday evening was a particularly humbling evening of crushing failure and disappointment after a particularly bad case of nerves. Fortunately, it also resulted in my taking out my frustration by scribbling furiously on a rumpled sheet of graph paper until five in the morning, which resulted in this song:

Second Song

This is a little song,
I'm hoping that it ain't too long
I'm hoping I don't hit a wrong chord.
I'm hoping when I leave the stage
I'm not filled with self-directed rage
And applause comes not with pity, but of their own accord.

My first song usually goes swell,
I strum okay, I sing quite well
And usually there isn't too much goes wrong
But you see it is my norm these days
To mess up in a million ways
Every time I sing for you my second song.

So this is my second song,
Shit, I think it's gonna be too long
These lyrics sound contrived up here
I think I'm gonna die up here...

Please don't drag me off the stage,
Although I can justify your rage,
I promise you this is my very best...
Oh please don't beat me in the face
With my uke and call me a disgrace
This instrument was expensive...really really expensive... please listen to the rest?

(Get your shit together girl,
Try not to choke try not to hurl
Stop apologizing, don't you blame it on your uke.
These nice folks just wanna hear you sing,
They're not throwing bottles or anything,
But they'll be upset if you cry or if you puke.)

Still singing my second song...
I'm pretty sure those last few chords were wrong,
These words still sound contrived up here
I'm wishing that I drank more beer...

It seems like every time I try,
My brain implodes, shorts out, and fries
The inside of my head don't look that great
Instead of fine tuned and meticulous
I'm utterly ridiculous
I guess I'll give in to my tragic fate.

So here it is, I'm giving in,
I've tried you see and I can't win
This song is doomed to be an epic fail.
Folks I blew it, I knew it,
I'll just be glad when I get through it
And can slink down off this stage tucking my tail.

I can tell, you folks are swell,
I'm hoping I don't go to hell,
For making you endure my second song!