When: January 2009
Where: Gold Line southbound (Lake Station)
Who: Assorted strangers
Welcome to 2009. I should warn you that things are gonna get rough. The decade from hell might be at a close, but they’re going out with a bang. The economy is getting worse. Jersey Shore is premiering, and Dubstep has taken over the world. What little quality music does exist for the “hipster” crowd is high-pitched and difficult. And despite the fact that everyone seems to enjoy my company, I’m far from having a good time, at least until November.
I had almost all of January off for winter break, and I spent it as an intern at The Young Turks. Mostly, I filled out Excel spreadsheets, but occasionally I selected music and got to meet famous people. Like the Evolution of Dance guy.
But it felt wrong. I didn’t belong there. And I was didn’t know how to feel about a broham like Cenk, who I’d only previously known through my computer screen and a few chance encounters. “I’m sick of doing fucking pop culture stories,” Ana said to Dave when she didn’t know I was listening. I couldn’t blame her; the pop culture segments are to me the most depressing part of the show. On the other hand, I got to be there for the Obama inauguration, and occasionally showed up onscreen, so I’d probably speak more favorably of the experience at the time.
Anyway, I had a very long daily commute, so I had plenty of time to listen to albums, but this song gave me pause.
“That looks like a letter that I don’t want to open.” Sounded like a personal warning. My mom claimed she got my grades in the mail from college. She was thankfully wrong.