Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Always

These things happened, in this order, within the past few days.

1.  The Soggy Librarian said that she often gets the song "Always" by Atlantic Starr stuck in her head. As you do.

2. I responded by telling her that I once sang, with a boy named Brian, a duet version of that very song in 10th grade choir. I know, I just get cooler and cooler the more you get to know me, right?

3. I began to think about the fact that a boy had chosen (because we chose this song ourselves and auditioned that shit. We were not assigned to sing it) to sing the words "come with me, my sweet, let's go make a family," in front of everyone we knew when we were 15. Because that's not weird.

4. I received an email today from THAT SAME BRIAN KID. Who is not a kid anymore, obvs. He just said something totally nice like "hey, you popped into my head this week. How are you?, etc." And also "I think I remember that we sang a duet in school but can't recall the year or the song.  Maybe you can enlighten me or set me straight."

5. I began to believe that uttering the words "Atlantic Starr" brings back people from your past. Sort of like a light R&B Beetlejuice.

Say Atlantic Starr and see who pops back into your life. It's SCIENCE, you guys.

2 comments:

Misha said...

OMG..I used to listen to this album all of the time. And DeBarge. Good times!

Matt said...

ok, here's a weird thing that's not directly related but kinda parallel. I'm reading The Woman in Black so that I can watch the remake next year with little Danny Radcliffe (now a grown-ass handsome swain), and on my walk today I had to go through some spiderwebby areas, which always makes me a little nervous because I don't like spiders, but they never seem to really get stuck in your hair -- you hit one and look back with your arms flapping and they're always zip-lining away to safety -- so I didn't worry. So then on the bus I opened the book and started the chapter called "Spider" and as I began reading, I felt a light movement on my hair, so I brushed my hand over my head and this big ol' garden spider drops into my lap. Normally I would have jumped two meters straight up, but there were folks around and I didn't want to seem...well...afraid of spiders, so I scooped him up and yo-yo'd him down onto the floor. And then I worried he had "got back on" and I kept brushing myself all day. But isn't that sort of weirdly related? At that exact moment? Don't you think? I do.