When: April 2009
Where: My dorm
Who: Nobody…sort of
Lindsey was a peculiar girl. She was a gorgeous redhead and my next-door neighbor. In theory we slept six inches apart, but whereas I was fairly active in the 6th-floor Mary Ward Hall general social group, she never spoke to anyone and was rarely seen. The only thing I knew about her was that she listened to my iTunes library; I could hear it through the wall.
One night, she started playing a song… I could only make out the bass, but it was so catchy it drove me crazy not to know what the song was. It wasn’t one of mine. I went to sleep very irritated, and vowed never to forget that signature bass tune.
A month later I was moving my stuff out of the dorm, and into my Dad’s car while listening to my iPod and there it was. Cake. I had it all along. Overjoyed, I raced back up to my floor and knocked on Lindsay’s door. There she was, smiling, tossing a blue beach ball around with people I’d never seen. In the spirit that enraptures all of us when we suspect we may never see someone again, I gave her my sincere regret that I hadn’t taken the time to talk with her like I had with other people on the floor. She smiled, and tossed me the ball.
“Keep it,” she said. I still have it.
It wasn’t the first time an SF State girl gave me a blue ball.
Next: Weekend at Judah’s
When: 7 June 2006
Where: Garvey and San Gabriel
Who: Nobody of note
When sophomore finals ended, I decided to give this album a listen on the way home, and realized how horrible it was. The neighborhood smelled of sautéed sewage.
Next: Hard rocking. Bam. Nothing rocks harder.
When: 6 April 2006
Where: Sierra Madre Villa Station platform elevator
Six years ago today, I was waiting for the train, I was just getting into Weezer with their early work, and I had a lot going through my head. I was trying to think of ideas for movies, but the DBTI film club always locked me out, preferring to do endless edits on three fifteen minute films. They worked on it for years. But I was determined to get something done and had attempted a few scripts. My latest, Dublin, wasn’t really doing it for me. It was more of a running daydream than a script; in retrospect it would be comparable to a cross between Brick and The Boondock Saints, an ambitious fiasco. But at least I felt like I wasn’t spinning my wheels; I had a completed script, actors and props (including a customized green Swingline stapler I still use). I needed to relax, so there I was.
I invented this.
Next: The worst song ever written.
When: June 2005
Where: Paracel Building parking lot
Who: My mother
Weather: Hot, dry
We were going to the opthalmologist’s office. Turns out I needed glasses after all.
Next: Attack of the BYOB.
When: May 2005
Where: Sierra Madre Villa Station
Who: My mother
Weather: Warm, clear
AKA “Pain: the sequel”
It was the last real day of school, and for some reason or another I had to carry a ton of weight in my backpack, which already weighed in at 25 pounds. I was dying walking down the block, having begged my mother to pick me up. There she was, and when I got in the car this song was on. Who were these guys, I wondered. I would learn to hate this song.
Next: Reluctantly crouched at the starting line…
When: 6 October 2000
Where: United Artists La Cañada
Who: Chad Robinson
Weather: Cool, clear
Fun fact: These are written months in advance. As I write this, it’s August 30.
In the fall of 2000, I developed an interest in Digimon that, while seemingly longstanding, could only have lasted a few weeks. Either way, I was ready when Chad Robinson asked me to see the Digimon Movie with him. During one of the early scenes, this song played, and I was shocked because it was the song from that Mitsubishi commercial! What were the chances?
A better question would be, what was the original song in the Japanese version? Probably some slow, irrelevant love song.
Next: The everlasting struggle between the unprecedented and the annoying.