(The lunch meeting is the preferred 'casual meet' setting for entertainment industry types. It cloaks the general disinterest in what the other person might be saying in; distracting sparkly light off sunglasses and flatware... pretty people, colors and motion churning all around... and, a cacophony of strange conversations you can lose yourself in. It's perfect.)
So.... as I'm waiting for my table, this guy walks up to me and proceeds to remind me of when we'd recently met... 'friend of a friend'... 'we talked about..'. He starts up a conversation about our previous conversation. Good times, I'm told.
All the while, stood beside him is a young girl in a yellow sundress. She's very cute (I think to myself).... and, she's listening to her ipod and texting, all at once.
While me and my new line-up buddy talked and laughed... this girl didn't pick up her head. Not once. Not for a second.
I was... crest-fallen.
I've lost it, I thought to myself.
I'm 31 years old and... completely out of mojo. This is just the moment I realize it, I guess.
Although, the transition into 'track pants for all occasions-guy' might be kinda fun... as, I'd instantly decided I was gonna age as the guy who buys all the new, high-tech, work-out clothes but, never goes to the gym. Just, starch-heavy brunches everyday but, in the newest ventilated, sweat-wicking, futuristic looking, exercise outfit.
Then, my new friend, finally, introduced me to Chloe... his 14 year-old daughter.
I know... I know.... fathers, lock up your daughters, Ty's here for French Toast in his Nike dry-fit gear.
(I never understood why the fathers should lock up the daughters, by the way? Wouldn't a better plan be to focus on putting the dangerous perverts and pederasts under lock n' key?)
The point is.. while I was feeling horrible about leering at this girl like an old Nabakov character.... her Dad was telling me how she'd just found a podcast of her favorite band and, was texting her friends to tell them where to download it for free.
She's solipsistic, this girl. I mean... she's alive and fourteen (shaking head) and so, she's solipsistic in the same way everybody is.
Solipsistic is just a pretty way of saying; she thinks the world revolves around her. Like, the earth revolves around the sun... everything and everyone is just a satellite in her orbit.
Everybody you meet is a supporting character in the book of you... and, when they exit your life, they cease to exist.
I'll admit, I'm like this. I think most everyone is fundamentally like this.
We walk around in our pod-person stupors... bumping into each other on crowded streets, 'cause this bubble of personalized music, media, messages and your entire universe of friends at your finger-tips, all protects us from feeling like the ants we sometimes are.
This girl... was all consumed in her world. And, in her world.... the band 'Blitzen Trapper' is more important than me.... or anything or anyone around her.
We have that in common, actually. Making it all the more sad and bittersweet that we will never be... her, a saucy little lolita, flirting at me through the top of her hair... and myself, evidently, the creepiest man alive.
She is a 'true fan' of this band, 'Blitzen Trapper'. And, a 'true fan' loves the thing they love so much, they can't help but want to spread the word. They become like Jehovah's witnesses for this thing.
The concept of 'true fan-dom' is best explained by media smart-y Kevin Kelly, here in his transparent, collaborative, open- source book; "The Technium" (more on that awesomeness, another day but, this is really worth the read...)
Then.... her dad dropped the bomb.
See.... in our previous conversation, apparently... I had been talking about my favorite websites n' podcasts n' such.... so, I brought up "The Sound of Young America" (you might remember it from such previous posts as... my second one... "Please, Don't Take It Personal.")
That's right..... ka-fuckin'-boom. I had mentioned this podcast to this guy at some event.... through the lens of 'check out my blog.... making this show.... bounce words off your un-important face'.
And, though he totally took credit for the discovery with his daughter... it added value to her life 'cause it hit on something immensely personal... and, became part of her world. So now, in that universe, she was spreading the message of "The Sound Of Young America"... like, I was in my own.
Oh..... the delicious irony..... that, I was viewing this man as just another supporting character in the book of me.... that, when he left I assumed he went back into the break-room to have a coffee and wait for when they needed him for another cameo in my 'Truman Show'.... that, I was still bothered by her ignoring me after he told me she was his 14 year-old daughter, yet I'm free to walk the streets and eat in public places.
All succulent morsels of irony.
What that exposure to this 'cool thing' had bought her father was enough points to have her come out to lunch. (It would seem more 'cool Dad' points would be needed for actual public interaction. Had he booked the band for a private backyard concert... she would've feigned interest in him and his friends, maybe.)
And....... though, of course, we can never be.
As society and schoolchildren would surely shoot judgements and sneer at her..... and I would, quite rightly, go to prison....
Had she known.... maybe we could've talked about 'Fleet Foxes', 'My Morning Jacket', or a ka-zillion cool indie bands...
And, maybe I could've found... through her, or a person in her universe.... a 'true fan' of "Let's Make Politics!". And, others who cared and were invested in helping build this show.... this movement.
And, just maybe..... I could've been the creepy guy who sits out in the school parking lot in his jeep... sitting on his hood in his break-away warm-up suit.... blaring the new 'Vampire Weekend'... carb-loading on handfuls of flap-jacks... while manifesting an appropriately douche-y moustache.
And, who doesn't want to go to prom with that guy?
(shaking head.... feeling shame.... giggling to myself)
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