The most iconic duo is America, and its lack of compassion for its own citizens. Since coronavirus changed the course of all of our lives just a few months ago it has become abundantly clear that we the people do not matter at all. $1,2000 for four months, that is, if you got a stimulus check at all. Right now 28 million Americas are at risk of eviction. 51 Million Americans are unemployed. Even if you are lucky enough to either have kept you job or been hired within the last few months just going to work every day, you are at risk of contracting a deadly virus that you might pass on to your loved ones because your fellow citizens don’t want to do the bare minimum of wearing a mask because their rights are being ‘threatened.’
When Governor Murphy gives the okay, I’m out of here. Straight down the turnpike and straight towards the sky to fly off in a thirty foot rocket full of cheese wiz and French Champlain. Ritz crackers lull me to sleep as I ascend & drift off through our compromised atmosphere. I float weightless around my new home as I journey on past the Moon past Venus to our first destination Mercury.
In 2019 Marie Kondo asked us “Does it bring you joy?” In 2019 deciding whether to keep an article of clothing was worthy of being kept in your closet seemed hard. In 2019 I spent my paychecks on my unimaginable student debt, rent, and cloths. My closet was full of items that when purchased brought me immense joy for perhaps a day. Dresses that would have my mom asking “Are you trying to hide your outfits from me” As I snuck out of her house in an oversized coat on my way to a Dante’s Inferno themed birthday party. In 2020 I wear the same sweatpants every day and brush my hair just to put it in a tangled bun. In 2020 I no longer have a job & the idea of glueing gems to my face no longer has the same appeal, I have to find joy else where.
The last time I made a playlist was the end of 2018 for a customer at your favorite local coffee shop. Though she didn’t appreciate it I hope you do. If binge watching Hulu’s High Fidelity has taught me anything it’s how to make the perfect playlist. As Rob says, “Making a playlist is a delicate art. It’s like writing a love letter, but better in a way. You get to say what you want to say without actually saying it. You get to use someones else’s poetry to express how you feel." So here’s my love letter to you.
In a 55th Street Playhouse Chantal Akerman is stealing half the ticket sales a night as a cashier at a porn theater. It’s 1972 and I’m not even a thought in my parents’ minds. Yet what Chantal does twenty years before I come screaming into this world would forever change the course of my adult life.