Jason Mraz

There are heroes among us. Some wear uniforms, some wear spandex, and some dress like you and me. And one of mine is a man named Nick Nelson. A few years ago at Seattle's Sasquatch Music festival, Mr. Nelson noticed a horrifying sight. Twenty yards away from him was the grand wizard of corny Top 40 slop, Jason Mraz. We had just suffered through a half-hour of his hokey lyrics and cookie-cutter acoustic funk. Mraz decided to wander around the crowd with a Polaroid camera in tow and take pictures with drunken girls. Noticing that something had to be done to hedge the level of douche in the crowd, Nick walked up to the musician and said, "Hey! You look like Jason Mraz!" Before Mraz could respond, Nick quipped, "That guy is a fucking douchebag." The singer-songwriter looked on in disbelief as Nick stood before him like a Chinese dissident would stand before tanks in Tiananmen Square. Bewildered, Mraz staggered off in shock as the sun's golden rays shone upon Nick, creating what I swear looked like a faint halo. If you ever meet Nick, shake his hand and thank him for his service. The world could use a few more of him.


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