busblog

nothing in here is true

  1. Sunday, May 21, 2017

    im gonna see U2 today 

    its the 30th anniversary of the Joshua Tree record.

    30 years ago i was dating Michele who loved U2 and we would listen to them all the time.

    we went to the concert at the Sports Arena and it was so good i cried more than once.

    tonight i will probably cry again even though they’re playing at the cavernous Rose Bowl.

    i often think to myself what a lucky life i have had. Michele was my first friend in California and ended up quickly being such an important person in my life.

    she turned me on to poetry and environmental issues, she majored in journalism, lived in Malibu and was so into the Cure and U2 and foreign films.

    id drive all night to the furthest stretches of Zuma to see her and walk to the beach and sleep in her parents house and talk about everything you could ever imagine. i would be such a different person, and i doubt a better one, if i hadnt taken the risk and said hi to the pale, red lipsticked girl who had scribbled words on her chuck taylors.

    i would love to be going to this show tonight with her.

  2. Tuesday, June 7, 2016

    today is michele’s birthday, shes 24 

    michelethe best things ive learned ive learned from women.

    and the least likely things ive learned, i learned from my girlfriends

    i have been extremely lucky with love.

    these women have all been super smart, and thankfully patient, but most of all, genius

    michele lived in malibu. i loved her family and fortunately they loved me right back. i tell these stories every year because i like to remember them.

    the drive was always so long to get out there but it was always worth it. we talked a lot, she and i. we were so young. people worry but they shouldnt. some kids just like to talk with their gf/bf. hold hands and watch movies.

    its weird that now i work right across the street from our favorite movie theatre: this little indie place that specialized in foreign films. i lived in inglewood at the time. i would drive to zuma, hang with her family and we would drive into hollywood and watch a movie, then id drive her home. then id drive back to inglewood.

    it was a lot of driving. i was 20. what did i care. i loved her. what wasnt there to love? dark hair, red lips, blue eyes, pale skin and the most beautiful words from the most concerned mind. she was from another world. i was from the dirt. she was from the heavens.

    she would see a whale in the sea and cry. shed stand by the railing and it would swim and she would see an entire novel. a mini series. she would weep during the sad parts and bawl during the happy parts. and it all took place in seconds. i didnt even look at the whale because there was a damn movie happening in her face. the weirdest and most beautiful movie. she’d apologize for crying and i’d apologize for not crying.

    she taught me about poetry and journalism and the rest of my life has been about

    well, not about whales.

    not yet. that is.