It's a song that, despite its lyrical content, makes me feel bouncy and upbeat, and while it's fun in its own in its own innocuous Jackson Browney way, I'm not positive it's better than "Running on Empty," or that Jackson Browne's version of "Doctor My Eyes" is even the best version of this song.
In fact, I almost talked myself out of "Doctor My Eyes" and into "Running on Empty" while I was writing this, and then I remembered why I loved this song in the first place: It's one of the best singalong songs of the 20th Century.
I don't much care for driving, but when I do, I tend to drive long distances. In addition to moving from South Carolina to New Jersey to Wisconsin to Ohio to Texas in the past seven years, for four years I was in a relationship with someone who lived at least eight hours' drive away, and last year I was usually driving at least eight hours most weekends to cover various college baseball series across the Midwest. And there are only so many episodes of Hardcore History out there, so I occasionally listened to music.
Let's be honest. If you're alone in the car, especially for a long time, and you don't sing along with the radio, I can't trust you. If you don't treat your vehicle, this morally complicated but quintessentially American device that allows unprecedented personal autonomy and freedom, as your own musical fortress of solitude, what other freedoms do you not value? In what other ways do you insult our flag?
Singing like a moron in your car is what separates us from less free, less advanced cultures, and when it comes time to sing in my car, few songs get more airtime than "Doctor My Eyes," specifically the Jackson 5 cover of the song.
It's unfortunate that we allowed an artist to cover a song by another artist with a similar name, but this cover is the jam. And since we're alone in our car, there's nothing quite like a vocal line by the young Michael Jackson to invite one to test the limit of one's vocal range. It bounces along and begs to be belted out, and you put miles behind you more with this song even more than with the pressing inevitability of "Running on Empty."
In fact, I almost talked myself out of "Doctor My Eyes" and into "Running on Empty" while I was writing this, and then I remembered why I loved this song in the first place: It's one of the best singalong songs of the 20th Century.
I don't much care for driving, but when I do, I tend to drive long distances. In addition to moving from South Carolina to New Jersey to Wisconsin to Ohio to Texas in the past seven years, for four years I was in a relationship with someone who lived at least eight hours' drive away, and last year I was usually driving at least eight hours most weekends to cover various college baseball series across the Midwest. And there are only so many episodes of Hardcore History out there, so I occasionally listened to music.
Let's be honest. If you're alone in the car, especially for a long time, and you don't sing along with the radio, I can't trust you. If you don't treat your vehicle, this morally complicated but quintessentially American device that allows unprecedented personal autonomy and freedom, as your own musical fortress of solitude, what other freedoms do you not value? In what other ways do you insult our flag?
Singing like a moron in your car is what separates us from less free, less advanced cultures, and when it comes time to sing in my car, few songs get more airtime than "Doctor My Eyes," specifically the Jackson 5 cover of the song.
