This post is 19 of 30 in a series about songs that mean a lot to me. The rest of the posts are here, and here’s a Spotify playlist of the songs

Today I’m going to take the opportunity to make a very cheap connection between the song and some personal anecdotes. Forgiveness is requested up front.

I’ve written about Young In The City once already; you already know how I feel about them. Despite the fact that they only have 8 songs out, I love their music. Noah Gundersen is a fantastic song-writer who seems to flourish in a full band approach. He doesn’t shy away from the classic love-song tropes, but it hardly detracts from the quality of their music. Don’t miss out on this band.

I’ve described this song before as being like a more depressing Fix You by Coldplay. While Fix You is triumphant and hopeful, Mistake revels in the nihilism that we’re tempted to embrace when we’re in the midst of that regret; that feeling that our investment was a waste. The song maintains a fairly steady pace throughout the verses and chorus until the final cathartic instrumental. It’s a song that necessitates loudness.

Mistake seems to be about the regret we all inevitably face after putting time, effort, and emotional energy into a romantic relationship that isn’t meant to be. I’ve yet to encounter a single person that can’t relate to this. We invest in something that seems right…at the time. But hind-sight is 20/20, right? When I listen to this song, I can’t help but also think about some other mistakes we make along the road towards romance. It’s a road paved with unescapable bumps and potholes.

I would venture to say everyone who knows me knows I have a relatively conservative family. At least, conservative when compared to me. So, when I say that some time back I was dating a girl whose family was quite conservative, you’ll understand the gravity of what I’m saying. While we were dating, I would occasionally attend their family dinners. It was fun to engage in someone else’s tradition like that. They would generally have dinner together and then recess to the living room for card games. During one of these nights, I had brought over my laptop because I wanted to introduce her to this new tv show I had just started watching; Better Call Saul. Breaking Bad was and is my favorite tv show, so I was pretty pumped when Better Call Saul first aired. We were clearing out our dishes and the rest of the family was preparing for the card game portion when she informed the matriarch that we were going to be watching a tv show. This where a pivotal breakdown of communication occurred. She meant to say that her and I would be departing from the family events. The mother heard it as an invitation. Before I reverse the order of events, 15 conservative family members were crowding their way into the tv room so I could introduce a worldly piece of tv garbage into their home. We all, quite silently, sat there and viewed the pilot episode of Better Call Saul together as I wished upon every conceivable force in the universe to melt me down so I could dissolve myself into the fibers of the rug I was sitting on. Mistake.

That was almost as humiliating as what my brother-in-law did one time.

I honestly love Jordan. It was pretty thoughtful of Jess to bring home someone who is so easy to get along with. We probably got off on the right foot because his introduction to my family was also awkwardly painful.

It was his first visit to my parents house; I have to imagine he was already a little stressed. Things were clearly serious between him and my sister, an engagement was imminent; he needed to make sure he would fit in well with the Swayzes. My mom suggested we watch a movie that evening. Jordan, simply wanting to be helpful, quickly offered some input. He hadn’t seen it before. My mother politely accepted his input; the movie Flight.

There are a couple things you need to know about our movie watching setup at my parent’s house: the DVD remote has been missing for centuries and there is a large ottoman separating the couch from the tv. 

So here we are, my whole family, Jordan, and my buddy Dylan, watching Flight. I would say we got about 30 seconds into this movie when we got to the first female full-frontal nudity scene. Normally in this situation I would be pretty horrified, but the fact that it was his movie pick just made it hilarious. Jordan, with cat-like reflexes and spring, leapt over the ottoman to the TV to fast forward through the offensive scene. Crisis averted. He settled back into his seat. It couldn’t have been a couple more minutes before another shockingly graphic nude scene popped up onto our TV, which at the time felt like it was occupying at least half of the square-footage on the living room wall. Again, with feline ferocity, Jordan darted forward to save our baby eyes from seeing any more of what we had all witnessed. I can’t remember how many more times this happened, because tbh Dylan and I dipped out after nude scene #2. This wasn’t my circus and I wasn’t sticking around to bear the burden of any more awkwardness. I certainly felt bad for Jordan, though. To do this day we give him a hard time for that, but we love him nonetheless. I’m sure that doesn’t stop him from feeling like his movie suggestion was quite the mistake.

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