little boxes

I love the ocean. I think if I didn't live near the hills, I would have to live next to the ocean. Perhaps I could live on a deserted hillside by an ocean.



My cousin was posted on facebook a video of a cover The Decemberists did of Malvina Reynold's song, Little Boxes.

I love that song (particularly Malvina Reynold's original) as such a scathingly accurate depiction of the expectations (and assumptions) of conformity in middle class society. The desire to fit within the box that we are assigned is, I am sure, overwhelming for many people, to the point where those that do not fit within our prescribed 'types' of appropriate behaviour are problematised and isolated as abnormal.

And while I appreciate that this is a broad, sweeping statement that does not apply to all people, at all times, I would argue that, well, it's not intended to. But the fact that it applies at all, I think says much about the cultural values and norms of the society within which we (or I) live.

It is the differences that make us unique, and although I don't feel that we should all strive to be different for the sake of it, I suppose I find the expectation to be the same is both exasperating and for many, difficult to resist.

I say this because it seems to apply to so many things and so many people in so many different facets of our daily lives. Occasionally I stop and look and am surprised by this.

So, yeah.

It's not that I'm hating on society, but I guess today has been one of those days where I surprised at the conformity to these cultural ideals and societal behaviours and expectations that is so overwhelmingly present in so many people.

That, and I  just that I have nothing funny to say today.



Anyway. Here's the song lyrics.

Little boxes on the hillside,
Little boxes made of ticky tacky
Little boxes on the hillside,
Little boxes all the same,
There's a green one and a pink one
And a blue one and a yellow one
And they're all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.

And the people in the houses
All went to the university
Where they were put in boxes
And they came out all the same
And there's doctors and lawyers
And business executives
And they're all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.

And they all play on the golf course
And drink their martinis dry
And they all have pretty children,
And the children go to school,
And the children go to summer camp
And then to the university
Where they are put in boxes
And they come out all the same.

And the boys go into business
And marry and raise a family
In boxes made of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same,
There's a green one and a pink one
And a blue one and a yellow one
And they're all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.