Hey, Tuesday. Another sorta snowstorm. Better be the last. Enough, please. So here's something.
You know how certain songs jog a memory you will never forget? That's how I feel about The Beatles "I Want You (She's So Heavy)". Here's why.
I remember being a freshman in college and I recall sitting in my dorm room late one night, probably around 1 am. Remember when you would stay up till 1 am ps? Pondering the universe, a recent hook up, or something wholly weird? Those days are long gone...
So I'm sitting there minding my own beeswax when there's a knock at the door. I open it up and it's two of my friends, with this kid I sort of only vaguely know. Let's call him Joe (mostly because I don't remember his name).
Joe was in the throes of what can only be described as a psychotic break caused by LSD. You know how people used to scare the crap out of you by telling you acid may just send you into a state of insanity from which you may never return? Yea, I know. Crazy. I suppose that's why it always scared me to death.
So Joe was completely freaking out on a bad trip and was insistent upon coming to my room to hang out with me. Only me. Why, I have no idea. I hardly knew the kid. But these two friends who were basically holding him up (his arms draped around their necks) were also freaking, and they dumped him on my Pier One area rug, where he crumbled into a cross legged ball of cuckoo- writhing and muttering and shaking. I told my friends to leave, that somehow, I'd handle this lunatic. For some reason I knew why he was there, and I knew that I could calm him down and take him from dark to light. I felt his fear and just knew what he needed. I'm good like that. And I'm not good at much.
These were the days of CDs, so he begged me to play that Beatles track off Abbey Road again and again. On repeat. Nonstop. I WANT YOU. I WANT YOU SO BADDDDD IT'S DRIVING ME MAD, IT'S DRIVING ME MAD..." I agreed and made him a cup of hot pot tea and let him lay in my lap and wiped his tears as he babbled about the futility of life, the spiders from mars, and whatever else came to his mind. As dawn approached, he eventually passed out in his own slobber, after listening to that track for what seemed like an eternity. I let him take the bed. I slept on the floor. (In case you thought this was going somewhere romantic, sorry. No chance). It was one of those moments you can't forget, no matter how hard you try. The time the wild eyed kid who you barely knew came to your room looking for some solace from psychedelics. A real aha moment though I didn't know it. More on that in a minute.
I'm not sure I saw him again after that, this crazy eyed Joe. His parents came to get him from school and we all assumed they put him in a looney bin. So what's my point with telling you all of this, you may ask?
Recently or not so recently, I've noticed I've got a karmic tendency to take care of crazy people. That's just what I do. I've done it in work, in friendship, in general. It's probably because I'm fairly crazy myself, or that I just know how to handle a wacky parlance. Perhaps this is why I continue to find myself in abnormal or chaotic situations. I'm sure my ability to cope with crazy came long before that night in my poster-filled dorm room, but it's there. And I'm here. And I think I'm still doing it. And I don't think I'll ever stop. Like I mentioned, karma. Bashert. Whatever you want to call it. So in most situations in life, I channel that evening. And I talk people off ledges. It's a pattern, for sure. I think that served me well as a producer all of those years. Strange that. I've been surrounded by lunatics my whole life. I guess this is how I cope.
Literally just heard that song in a coffee shop and it made me think of that poor kid and wonder if he truly flew over the cuckoo's nest or not. Amazing how sharp certain memories can be.For all intents and purposes, it seems I have. After all, look where I live. The entire city is an acid trip, really. So if you're ever freaking out completely in the throes of whatever you've got going on, you can call me. I can make you some tea. Play you a song. Sleep on the floor. Or for less severe situations like work stress, love stress, life stress, we can hang. But this time, I'll choose the music thankyouverymuch. I've always been more of a Stones girl, myself.
Cause that's what's up this strange and funny story of a Tuesday in the very trippy 212. Yours, in college life and calming down. XO