Go Elf Yourself!

Who in the hell has the audacity to pay almost fifteen thousand dollars for a concert to see Taylor Swift? Better yet, what kind of pop star has the audacity to think of themselves so highly as to charge her throng of “Swifty’s” fifteen thousand dollars? Who the fuck do you think you are?

Ok, a little bit of context. My youngest, almost twelve, considers herself a swifty. Idolizes her. Worships her. Wants to be her. And when she tried to tell me the price of some of the tickets, I thought no way. This occurred over ten hours of a road trip where she wanted to make sure to introduce me to every song that Taylor has ever sung. 

And I hated it. 

Yes, she is gifted. Great voice. Catchy tunes. She has certainly evolved as an artist. But like most artists who have hit the big time, she has no consideration for the little people. The people like my daughter who, as a father, would love nothing more than to take her to a concert as a birthday gift. But for the two of us to go and sit in the nosebleeds would cost over two grand. Then tack on travel, food, and hotel? No way.

And I really don’t want to talk about the message she is sending young girls all across the globe. Does she even have a song that is not about a relationship? She really is no better than Disney when it comes to perpetuating a stereotype that men simply can’t live up to. 

No longer in touch.

Maybe it’s not Taylor. 

Maybe it is the agents, the managers, the venues. But like most celebrities, they are no longer in touch with the “common” person. The people like my daughter and me. The person who it would take practically my whole life to make the same money old Taylor does in one concert. 

Why do people forget their upbringing? How do people get to the point where they think that their life is truly more important than us commoners?

You were given a gift. Good for you. And you are taught how to quickly exploit it. People rave. People obsess. People pay. 

Why? 

Why do people, young girls really, look at you like a Goddess? The better question is, how can you sleep at night knowing that people are paying a third of their salary just to hear you sing? Don’t you have enough? Big enough house? Enough cars? Enough money?

When will it be enough for you Taylor?

When will I be able to take my daughter to see you in concert? I would imagine by the time I can afford your tickets you will be an afterthought. You will have been replaced ten times over. Someone new will be there to carry on the torch. And my youngest will have forgotten all about you. 

Enjoy It!!

No, really. Enjoy it. 

The money. 

The fame. 

The glitz. 

The glamor. 

What else is there? Really, sincerely. I would probably trade places with you. Compared to you, I make peanuts. I work in practical obscurity. Divorced three times over. I’m fat. Old. The dad bod. I wish every day the world would come to an end. I won’t tell my boss that. He might go ahead and fire me. 

But you. Taylor Swift. Do you understand your fanbase? Do you truly understand the people who hang on your every word?

What is it that Peter Parker’s Uncle said to him, “With great power comes great responsibility.”

How responsible are you Taylor?

Let me guess. The tortured artist. The misunderstood. You would give it all up, right? For a normal life? Whatever the fuck that is. 

All because you were born with a gift. 

I can see her face now. My youngest that is. If I could afford for us to go to one of your concerts. “Oh Dad, thank you so much. I love you. I will remember this for the rest of my life.” 

How many dads out there feel like shit today? How many dads out there feel like a fucking loser? How many dads out there feel like they can’t give their daughters the best life has to offer?

Thank you Taylor. Thank you for making me feel like less than a rat turd. 

I just hope you're happy. What am I thinking? I know you are.

A four hundred million dollar net worth. 

My entire family for the past four generations is not worth four hundred million dollars.

You don’t have a fucking clue.

You don’t have a clue about marriage. 

Kids.

Real life.

And, exactly what is a “generous” amount? It’s a legitimate question. That is what the headline read. That you gave a generous amount to an Atlanta food bank.   

Because my baby girl will never look at me as a generous father.

From here on after she will think, “If my daddy just loved me, if he were generous enough, he would have taken me to a Taylor Swift concert.”