You know what expression I hate? “Guilty pleasure.” Why do you feel guilty about something that gives you pleasure? Because other people disapprove? You know what I say?
Seriously! No one has a right to make you feel guilty for liking something. Even you. Especially you. I like bubblegum pop music from the Sixties, disco from the Seventies, “beautiful” music (e.g. Mantovani, Lawrence Welk, and Percy Faith), and smooth jazz. All might be considered “guilty pleasures,” except I don’t feel guilty about them.
I was in high school when I first heard The Manhattan Transfer. They looked weird (I mean, Alan Paul in lipstick was a little much), but they made some of the coolest music I ever heard. I was almost afraid to admit that I liked them, because theirs wasn’t the kind of music teenaged boys listened to in the Seventies. One day I asked a friend of mine, “Hey, have you ever heard The Manhattan Transfer?” He said, “You like ’em, too? They’re fantastic!” That was the last time I felt guilty about liking any kind of music. And the last time I felt guilty about not liking certain kinds of music. I don’t like heavy metal. If you like it, great. No reason to feel guilty about it.
Music is just one example. Food? TV shows? Books? Hobbies? Same thing. You like to color? Great! You like to eat Twinkies while you do? Me, too! Like to watch fifty-year-old game shows or read books by Mickey Spillane and Danielle Steele? So do I! No reason to feel guilty about it.
The prompt was to write a post based on the word “guilty.”