Self-love and masturbation

Craig and I decided to spend our Saturday night at our beloved Wild Wings for karaoke. Because it was held on an off night (fellow karaoke followers know it's on Tuesdays and Fridays), no one was there. Okay, maybe 6 people. The point is Craig and I could sing whatever we wanted, whenever we wanted, however many times we wanted. We pick out a table and just start drinking beer and flipping through the book. 3 songs each later, and an unknown consumption of beer, Patrick Lake begins to sing the hit, "Mr. Jones" by Counting Crows.

Zach Braff recently commented on Alanis Morrisette and the lyrics to "Ironic" and how "a traffic jam when you're already late" is not ironic. (I still think that the song as a whole is ironic because the lyrics aren't- blah, it's complicated) But the discussion has led me to examine and re-examine other lyrics of songs I listen to.

Doing this at karaoke is ideal because

1. The song lyrics are projected onto a giant screen in the bar where everybody can read them, and
2. I was drunk.

I start giggling after a proverbial light went off in my (at the time) vacated mind: Mr. Jones is code name for his penis! The singer is singing about sexuality and loneliness. Just replace "Mr. Jones" with "my penis:"

I was down at the New Amsterdam staring at this yellow-haired girl
Mr. Jones strikes up a conversation with this black-haired flamenco dancer
She dances while his father plays guitar
She's suddenly beautiful
We all want something beautiful
I wish I was beautiful
So come dance this silence down through the morning
Cut Maria! Show me some of them Spanish dances
Pass me a bottle, Mr. Jones
Believe in me
Help me believe in anything
I want to be someone who believes

Mr. Jones and me tell each other fairy tales
Stare at the beautiful women
"She's looking at you. Ah, no, no, she's looking at me."
Smiling in the bright lights
Coming through in stereo
When everybody loves you, you can never be lonely

I will paint my picture
Paint myself in blue and red and black and gray
All of the beautiful colors are very very meaningful
Grey is my favorite color
I felt so symbolic yesterday
If I knew Picasso
I would buy myself a gray guitar and play

Mr. Jones and me look into the future
Stare at the beautiful women
"She's looking at you.
Uh, I don't think so. She's looking at me."
Standing in the spotlight
I bought myself a gray guitar
When everybody loves me, I will never be lonely

I want to be a lion
Everybody wants to pass as cats
We all want to be big big stars, but we got different reasons for that Believe in me because I don't believe in anything
and I want to be someone to believe

Mr. Jones and me stumbling through the barrio
Yeah we stare at the beautiful women
"She's perfect for you, Man, there's got to be somebody for me."
I want to be Bob Dylan
Mr. Jones wishes he was someone just a little more funky
When everybody loves you, son, that's just about as funky as you can be

Mr. Jones and me staring at the video
When I look at the television, I want to see me staring right back at me
We all want to be big stars, but we don't know why and we don't know how
But when everybody loves me, I'm going to be just about as happy as can be
Mr. Jones and me, we're gonna be big stars..

Split personalities of lust and love...it's all there!

When Patrick begins singing the last stanza in which the protagonist (and his penis) watches television and wants to be a "star," I started laughing so hard that all 6 people, and Patrick, stare at me.

Porn and fame--check. Self-love and masturbation--check.