Showing posts with label long island. Show all posts
Showing posts with label long island. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 1
Most Unique
Not to toot my on horn too loud but when I was a senior in high school the yearbook committee invented a new superlative that I was an obvious shoe-in to win: most unique. It doesn't mean anything, but because I had no qualities that would bring me recognition as Friendliest or Nicest Hair and because I got a 2 on the AP art test and in turn wasn't even in the running for Most Artistic and because I was enough of a high school personality to deserve extra pictures in the yearbook, especially because my actual yearbook picture was surprisingly ugly, the yearbook committee gave me my due. And because superlatives were set up so that one girl and one boy won for each category, a kid I had never really spoken to and I were photographed together. I initially assumed he was undeserving and lucky that I was around but tonight I found a picture of him from 2003 on Facebook, and because somewhere beyond the studs and chain wallet there seems to be something special, I'm beginning to think that I thought wrong. 
Monday, November 10
OTGDY
If I ever make a new Facebook group, it's going to be called, "Don't make a Facebook group about me if I die," to serve as a living will for me and everyone who joins, asking our near and dear ones not to grieve for us over the internet, knowing that it is not what we would have wanted.
I have a friend who sends me the trashiest "forever in our hearts" Facebook groups, all made in remembrance of Long Island fuck ups who drove on Xanax straight into a tree. In a recent Deathbook group, which, based on the comments, was actually made while the kid was still on life support ["hes not dead yet" "they pulled the plug this morning"], one girl posted, "OTGDY." What? It's an abbreviation for the most used slogan following a South shore DUI death: Only The Good Die Young.
I don't know if, "Only the good die young," is how people mourn in other parts of the country, but back on Long Island, Billy Joel songs strike more than just mass-funerial chords. Growing up in Hicksville, naming his album after Cold Spring Harbor, and drunk driving into the living rooms of estates in the Hamptons, Billy Joel has 516 and 631 appeal. In turn, all of the classic rock radio stations in my area played his music all the time. In turn, I grew to really hate him, and following that, grew to like him as a joke.
One time, when Owen and I were underage, we snuck into a karaoke bar on N6 and ordered "Only the Good Die Young," to sing as a duet. Unfortunately, Owen got kicked out of the bar before the song came up for being too drunk and trying to open a locked door and then probably being carded, so I half-heartedly [with a straw in my mouth] sang the song alone.
Recently, in a vintage store in New York, I saw a soft-and-worn Billy Joel concert tee for sale for too much money. I really wanted it. I would never have received one as a family heirloom because my dad hates Billy Joel, too.
A week or two ago I saw another one in a vintage store on Melrose Ave. It was $12, which isn't unreasonable, but I passed on it. If I wear one, it'll obviously just seem like I really like Billy Joel, and that's one of the last things I'd want to have people think about me.
I have a friend who sends me the trashiest "forever in our hearts" Facebook groups, all made in remembrance of Long Island fuck ups who drove on Xanax straight into a tree. In a recent Deathbook group, which, based on the comments, was actually made while the kid was still on life support ["hes not dead yet" "they pulled the plug this morning"], one girl posted, "OTGDY." What? It's an abbreviation for the most used slogan following a South shore DUI death: Only The Good Die Young.
I don't know if, "Only the good die young," is how people mourn in other parts of the country, but back on Long Island, Billy Joel songs strike more than just mass-funerial chords. Growing up in Hicksville, naming his album after Cold Spring Harbor, and drunk driving into the living rooms of estates in the Hamptons, Billy Joel has 516 and 631 appeal. In turn, all of the classic rock radio stations in my area played his music all the time. In turn, I grew to really hate him, and following that, grew to like him as a joke.
One time, when Owen and I were underage, we snuck into a karaoke bar on N6 and ordered "Only the Good Die Young," to sing as a duet. Unfortunately, Owen got kicked out of the bar before the song came up for being too drunk and trying to open a locked door and then probably being carded, so I half-heartedly [with a straw in my mouth] sang the song alone.
Recently, in a vintage store in New York, I saw a soft-and-worn Billy Joel concert tee for sale for too much money. I really wanted it. I would never have received one as a family heirloom because my dad hates Billy Joel, too.
A week or two ago I saw another one in a vintage store on Melrose Ave. It was $12, which isn't unreasonable, but I passed on it. If I wear one, it'll obviously just seem like I really like Billy Joel, and that's one of the last things I'd want to have people think about me.
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