Earlier I was thinking about how, when I complained to him via text about body image issues, D responded with: your body is a wonderland. This, of course, made me think of John Mayer. I remember I once called him a poor man’s Dave Matthews. (Don’t even ask…it was a weird hipstery thing to say. The ex and I were hipsters before hipsters were even a thing people talked about. This is not something I’m proud of, btw.) This remark was made after seeing him perform at the Roxy back in the early 2000s – before he was famous. He opened for Glen Phillips (formerly of Toad The Wet Sprocket), and played a bunch of acoustic stuff. I was not impressed. Of course, who was I to judge, as I was (essentially) at a fucking Toad The Wet Sprocket show? But, to be fair, it was my ex who wanted to go, and it was mostly a nostalgia thing. I would like to say my elitist hipster ways are behind me, but that sentence about Toad just reeks of condescension, doesn’t it?
The funny part is that I now kind of like John Mayer. Gravity and Daughters are good songs.