It's My Day, Damn It

One of my memories from the ‘90s – a time when I was gainfully employed, living in the heart of suburban Atlanta, and still nurtured by the peace of mind associated with being a “Young American” – is a recollection of my contempt for the release of the single “A Beautiful Day” by U2. I'd always been annoyed by the pseudo-gesture of goodwill often expressed during phone messages left by co-workers in corporate think tanks (“Have a nice day” and all that jazz), I railed against “shiny, happy people” with rose-colored glasses, who were inherently so damn…happy.

Perhaps I was a little selfish. Weaned on music of the ‘80’s, including the first three albums from this intense, political band of misfits from Dublin, I was offended at the pop-alicious slant the band had taken. Like many music fans and friends from this and other eras, I accused the group of “selling out” for mass appeal, mourning the days when I wallowed in pools of self-pity and angst. Where was the soul of “Gloria”? Where were the guys that once wrote “Sunday Bloody Sunday” and “I Threw A Brick Through A Window”?

Furthermore, what right did Bono – or anyone else for that matter – have to tell me whether or not it was a beautiful day? As ridiculous as it sounds now, whenever somebody used to tell me to "have a nice day”, I thought to myself, Don’t tell me what to do. I’ll make up my own mind on what kind of day it is, or how it’s going to be, thank you very much. Today, that line of thinking doesn’t fit me anymore. I realize now that experiencing life over many years changes one’s perspective; it’s inevitable. If you don’t grow, you’ll never know.

I still don’t like “Beautiful Day”, and the memory it evokes is persistent. I’m not here to offend anyone who thinks the song is the best thing since sliced bread. It just doesn’t work for me. What’s important is that I think I understand now why the song was written. If nothing else, I have learned to appreciate the differing views of human beings as they age, along with the planet they inhabit so desperately.