Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Music Lesson #12

Be careful when writing songs with pop culture references as they tend to get dated.

I was starting my second year of college when I learned that the pop star Joleena had enrolled in UP's theater program. You wouldn't believe it now but she used to be hugely famous, the country's desexualized pop princess answer to Britney Spears. And she went to my school which I thought was pretty cool.

I was once walking across the Palma Hall lobby, briskly, just trying to get from one end to another, when I saw her. I didn't see her face, just a head of hair as orange as a sunset, bobbing up and down, weaving through the crowd. I wasn't even sure it was her, but I was compelled to follow her, keeping a distance of a few meters. Keeping tabs in the notebook in my head, like a private eye.

9:12 - Entered classroom.
9:20 - Went to the ladies.
10:34 - Summoned doll army to do her bidding.
11:00 - Inspired by rainbows, designed clothes/ released Joleena line of
prescription pharmaceuticals.
12:00 - Had lunch (duck l'orange, java rice, Royal Tru-Orange)
1:50 - Auditioned for production of Verdi's La Traviata.
3:00 - (Three o'clock habit)
3:10 - Summoned doll army to do her bidding.

And so on. She was a busy lady.

I knew what I was doing was unhealthy. But I was just a normal, run of the mill starstruck guy. I wasn't a stalker or a deranged fan. I didn't send her love/ransom notes made of pieced-together magazine clippings. Neither did I prop up a naked Joleena doll in my room and draw a pentagram around it. I should have, maybe, but I didn't. Nor did I write poems or songs about her hoping that she'd someday hear them and be impressed by my admiration.

Like this one:

Joleena

In your blue baby tees,
You're a tight little tease
How'd you get so pretty
Is it rhinoplasty

That orange streak
In your long black hair
Weren't you blonde last week?
Noone cares like I care

Refrain:

We could be dating
You could be my girl
We could be married
You could be my world

Joleena
Joleena

Outside the studio
Where you shoot your latest sitcom
With my boots and my revolver
I'm in no condition to

Follow you home
To Valle Verde Five
Sleep outside your door
You keep me alive

We could be dating
You could be my girl
I could be your leading man
I'm your number one fan

Joleena (4x)
I'm your number one fan.

Later my heart broke (like a heart-shaped twig) when she moved to another school and rubbed it in my face by doing a commercial for said school with Joe D'Orange or whatever fruit-based name that guy had. I had no choice but to move on.

Years passed and I saw her again on TV. Her pop princess aura had all but gone. She was now some kind of announcer-princess for a faux interview show on the government network "showcasing" (their word, not mine) the achievements of the administration. Memories came rushing back (not of her, other non-Joleena memories).

Sometimes when I see someone, or thing, with orange hair, I'm tempted to give her, or it, a light tap on the shoulder as if to say "I have not forgotten the past!" And then I awake and my entire life has all been a beautiful dream.

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