To start off my blogging endeavor I thought that I would bring up one of the dark periods in my life, and I do this to prove a point.
My dislike of Neil Diamond and all things Diamond started at a tender age. My Fifth Grade class was assigned a few songs for a show the school was putting on for our parents. Our teacher chose Neil Diamond’s ” America”. He sang the lead and we children sang the chorus.
Till that point in my young life I wasn’t aware that one word could inspire hatred in me, but after singing the word “today” Twelve hundred thousand times in a row for two weeks straight I learned the truth. Neil Diamond became my nemesis. I had nightmares where I was forced to sing “today” over and over again for hours on end. I would then go to school and those nightmares would become a reality.
The teacher would put the music on and my throat would go dry, I would start to wimper. Beads of sweat would break out on my brow. By the hundredth chorus of the word “Today”. my feet were aching, my voice was strained and horse. I didn’t think that the other children were quite as affected by it as I was, but every once and a while one of them would falter or start sobbing and the teacher would make us start over again. (that child was a marked man once recess came, let me tell you.)
The concert finally came and left, but that didn’t change my dislike for all things Diamond. If any of his songs came on the radio. I would angrily shout “Today!” over and over again. (to the dismay of my parents or anyone else listening.) It became something of a mission to me to belittle Neil Diamond in front of anyone that I knew liked him.
As the years rolled by, my dislike for the man didn’t exactly wane, but it wasn’t in the forefront of my mind. (Though I did quote Bill Murray from the film “What about Bob” frequently. “There are two types of people in this world. People who love Neil Diamond and people who hate Neil Diamond”)
Then I met my wife. We had so much in common. We became best friends. We fell in love, got married. Then one day we were at Walmart and she stopped at a CD rack. To my shock, she picked up Neil Diamond’s greatest hits and put it in the cart.
“Are you really going to buy that CD . . . ‘Today‘?” I asked sarcastically.
“Yeah.”
“Why would you do that. For the love of all that is holy, why?”
“What? You have a problem with Neil Diamond?”
“He is Satan’s son. That’s right, the spawn of the devil himself. While Satan was in the garden tempting Eve with the apple, Neil Diamond was in the kitchen pooping in Adam’s oatmeal!”
“But I love Neil Diamond. Don’t worry I won’t make you listen to it.”
But she did. She had to listen to it in the car. To my surprise, there were a few of his songs that I actually liked. But when “America” started I made her skip the song. A year later she made me watch “The Jazz Singer.” The movie stunk, but to my surprise I found that I didn’t hate Neil anymore.
To this day, I still cannot stand that song. But I actually have to admit that I like Neil Diamond in general. There is something about his voice . . . . Anyway at the beginning I said that there is a point to my ramblings.
I have since forgotten the point, but I will try to come up with something on the fly.
Get ready, because this is going to be good. This is going to be profound. You are going to finish reading what I am about to say and go, “Wow. This guy is profound. Where does a guy, an every joe like Edgewriter come up with with a statement that makes me feel so complete?”
Okay, crap, I blew it. I raised your expectations too high. Screw it. The point isn’t going to be that great. The basic premise is that, uh . . . . stuff . . . changes over time. One day you think that something meaningless is important to you. You might even think that it partially defines you. But in reality it doesn’t. Over time, your feelings will change.
But for now I want to leave you with something that I hope haunts your dreams for a while like it did mine. You deserve it, I’m sure. Just listen to the chorus . . .”today” . . . . .”Today” . . . “Today . . . . . .
brethart77
Edgewriter
kingju1ce
Edgewriter 
But . . . . I like Neil Diamond
You would . . . . Poopie
I get a small amount of glee knowing that you had to at least partially hear this song to go find it on youtube. (insert evil laugh). 😀
That small amount of glee is just another example of the pleasure you take from my humiliation.
Your post reminded me of Saving Silverman. Good show and I love how it both makes fun of and supports Neil Diamond.
I honestly think that Neil has a cool voice but the old school music is hard for me to enjoy unless I am in the mood for it.
Mrs. Edge, no matter what you can say about liking Neil Diamond, you have to admit that he is a cheeseball (and one that is frustrating to eat because everytime you try the Ritz crumbles against the outer surface, or the impervious “crust” if you will…so unless you like to clean up Ritz crumbs, or eat a cheeseball with a fork and knife….)
Ah, the cheeseball conundrum. Mrs Edge makes a fine cheeseball that is so soft that you can cut it with the thin shell of a Ritz cracker quite easily without crumbledge. Actually it isn’t so much a cheese ball as it is a cheese puddle.
Mmmmm cheese puddle.
Alright Edgwriter, I am cutting off your cheese money. NO..don’t try and beg. That money is gone!
kingju1ce: You may have cheese puddle when you come.
I graciously accept your offer to consume said puddle of cheese. Maybe if I eat enough of it, I will be more able to widely accept Neil Diamond and his lack of movement on stage as well as his lack of range.
I believe I am really creating some valid comparison between cheese and being cheesy. For example, while cheese is delicious, too much of it can make you feel the need to run to the toilet (as is true with an episode of Barney).
Which begs the question, is Neil Diamond capable of a bowel movement? Does the connection go that deep?