It was the other thing, the thing that was sitting on my dresser in Pasadena since early April and which is in my hands now, that made me stop. A floor ticket to Katy Perry at the O2 Arena – for tonight.
Because of her artistry and, umm . . . oh forget it
As soon as I’d gauged how a certain person would react, I’d drop the bombshell: “I’m going to see KP in London.” It was always the same three-step process: 1) Laugh. Haha, what a jokester. 2) Uncertainty, starting to think that maybe, just maybe, I’m serious. 3) “Umm . . . are you serious? I never had you pegged for a Katy Perry fan.”
Well, let’s start this one from the beginning. Perspective is key here. Last Thanksgiving, Craig was driving home for the break and was taking me with him. We were living on Bonaventure at the time, and we always had music going, through the TV in the living room via a computer. Since the year before, when it was just us, we used the “Bise Mix” – if it didn’t come from Newfoundland, it was looked at with suspicion. If it was recorded within the last 30 years, it was looked at with less suspicion, but still some.
So, it was Thanksgiving. Craig was driving, and he wanted some CDs for the long road. I had a few Bon Jovi and Great Big Sea albums to bring along, but I took the chance. “Well,” says I, “I know there’s a Katy Perry album at the Muse.” I was working at the paper at the time, and Teenage Dream had already been reviewed by someone with their own copy – as Arts Editor, I’m pretty sure the leftover album was mine. So I took it.
Except that there’s a part of the story I’m missing. Because I didn’t need to take the album once Craig gave me the ok – I already had it.
So, we listened to it on the way home. A few times. We listened to it on the way back. A few more times. We learned some of the words. We had an awesome trip, and the CD ended up finding a semi-permanent spot on our coffee table in St. John’s.
Is it just because Katy Perry is hot that we listened to her ad nauseam (except it wasn’t nauseating, it was awesome – try ad aweseam)? Not at all – granted, when we tacked the cover of Cosmopolitan on our wall with a thumbtack because she was on the cover, that may have been due to her being hot.
But Teenage Dream started to sum up a lot more than just these catchy, electro pop beats about pet peacocks – it was the sound of playing cards around a table, chucking coins into a dish that had been taped together so many times (because of being cracked by coins) it was more machine than anything else. It was the sound of sitting on the kitchen floor, bottling beer with a siphon hose and trying not to spill any. It was 144 Bonaventure, that house that had corners cut, a laundry vent that couldn’t be used on a cold day (lest you get the fire department on your doorstep), and a back wall that was primarily egg residue, but might well end up being one of the best spots I’m ever going to live.
This is actually Burton's Pond, but the sentimental metaphor holds
That’s why I’m going to see Katy Perry tonight, damn it. Cause when she’s singing about her teenage dream, I get to go back, just for a little while, to when I was living the dream.
Cheers,
rb
This article is so full of fallacy and falsehood that I question if anything contained within can be perceived as true. Most glaringly is your claim to have "learned some of the words", if I recall correctly you (you not me) sang every word on that CD (except maybe one or two in circle the drain) louder than the speakers in the old Elantra. While that may not be saying very much, I assume you'll attempt to duplicate that performance tonight.
ReplyDeleteThat's all I have time to get into right now, but I look upon the whole post with suspicion. In fact, I doubt this Craig guy even exists, although he sounds like a fine chap who I would hire for a work term as a mechanical engineering student had I one available (tell your friends).
Have a good time tonight, and remember the bise are living vicariously through you tonight, so do anything we might do.
Cheers