That Time I Recruited My Baby Sister into an Underground Joy Cult

That Time I Recruited My Baby Sister into an Underground Joy Cult

I got people, I got people dancing

dancing on the people smoking CO2,

dancing people dancing on the people

- Sofi Tukker

Dear Sophie,

Thanks for picking this letter up, I know it probably meant a Lyft ride for you but I really didn’t want Mom or Dad getting ahold of it somehow. Mom’s the worst, she always read my diary and there’s no doubt in my mind that she reads yours. Funny that they’d be so insistent that we not poke around in THEIR “little Black Books,” right??

So you’re at the Cafe on 9th. Go to the bar and drink that latte you like, I know the owner and he knows to give it to you, and just sit and read.

Anyway I wanted to tell you about a party I went to on New Years’.

HONEY LISTEN TO ME. If this were any ordinary party, would I have made you sneak out. And would I have put your life into the hands of a smelly Lyft driver. Would I??? Just make yourself comfortable, and read on, okay?

I’ve been to parties. Some really good ones. I know you can’t believe that, I’m so straight and boring and I mostly have to dress in business casual for my job. And my tats are always strategically placed so that they won’t show under my clothes, yeah yeah...You’ve deconstructed my look plenty of times, Ms. “Aspiring Fashion Designer”. Don’t say you havent ;)

But this party, Sophie. I’ve been to better once since, but never before. I think… I think I saw God. Or something? There kind of several people surrounded with a glowing nimbus of light at different points in the night, so I can’t really be sure.

But anyway, it’s Jeff the Leader, who you met in NY, and me and Sheri Baker, you don’t know her but get this, her sister Sarah is actually the one who wrote “penis” with the Sharpie on the ceiling of the locker room bathroom!! (You know, in the old gym.) I’m sure it’s still there, the janitors always try to cover it with Kilz but it always still shows through. But anyway she (Sheri) was there too and honey she is WILD. Haha.

Anyway we’d been smoking weed all night, and drinking OC, and the mood in the whole place was just rising and rising.

And the words started to blend into the beat, you know how they almost start becoming the beat? And your body sort of becomes the beat, pounding deep inside, and the scent of body sweat and the accidental body contact of strangers drives all of us higher, until it feels like the four of us sometimes blur together into a composite entity only slightly separated from each other. And T-Sam’s bottomless bag of weed flows in, and flows out again like this sort of long magic smoke ribbon in the pulsing beams of light coloring the room,we’re so stoned and wild with heat, and the deep sound is shaking us and throbbing in our hips, forcing us to move and swirl and bump and touch. An we’re breathing in these deep heavy gasps, you know? And you look out over the crowd, and waves of hands sometimes spontaneously raise and lower all sort of at the same time, as if we’re… I don’t know. One big amoeba-like entity floating in a glowing sea cave. Or something.

Anyway. All I really know is, I know that I’m home. Really home.

Sophie. Little sister, you watch TV and you look at representations of our Rites depicted in fiction, and (although nothing can capture the bliss) something still comes through. And you know.

Your heartbeat speeds up, and a warm glow spreads. You realize that you’re searching for a name for this new sensation. When have you felt it before? Practically never. Maybe never?

Happiness.

It can’t be. You’re 16, that’s old enough to have a little voice inside telling you that happiness is as fictional as Santa Claus and really good kim chi. You’ve never looked into the eyes of a truly “happy” adult in your life, have you?

No.

Not. One.

You walk away and forget, but not deep down.

Deep down you start looking for elements of this strange new sensation, you start seeking it and craving it without ever realizing that you are. You hug your teddy in bed, realizing that you can’t go back to those comforting moments of childhood happiness now that you’re firmly treading through the wasteland of adolescence. The only way is forward. So you search the eyes of the adults you meet, watch their demeanor and note their moments of joy.

Common elements: Group laughter. Physical proximity. Drugs and Alcohol. MUSIC.

And the heavier you mix them, the happier the people get! Until they pass out from pure happiness, and wake up in a pile of half-naked joy!

You’re already headed down the path, little sis. I know you’ve started experimenting, and I KNOW about the party at Shonda Letay’s house, so don’t think that Mom and Dad don’t know because I don’t know. Because... I KNOW. Muahahaha.

The thing is, I’ve done 13 years of living that you haven’t yet. We were always pretty close despite the age difference. I love that about us. And so, I’m not going to tell you lies about the road ahead, in some kind of attempt to terrify you into taking life seriously.

I’m going to tell you the truth.

First, turn on “Purple Hat” by Sofi Tukker. Got it? I’m not kidding. Turn on the song.

Listen as many times as you want. Until you can read about that party and feel it, from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes…

Until you too know the truth, deep inside.

The truth is that you’re exactly right about what happiness feels like.

And Sophie? Honey?

You know exactly where you can find it.

...BUT. And this is a big BUT. There are many ways to fuck it up, by undisciplined excess mostly, and from what I hear you’re pretty much specializing in that these days. What good is a junkie, to anyone?

Discipline is necessary, and correct timing of the Rites. I mean parties. Whatever. I’m just saying you have to do it right, or don’t do it at all. You know?

So. Come live with us. Sophie, come live with us. Be happy!!

I love you so much, sis. I know I don’t really say it that much, but I really really do.

The party I took you to in NY when you were 12, remember that? You were a little weirded out even though you loved it, so I know you remember. Look the venue up on FB and join that FB group. I’ll get ahold of you and direct you from there.

There is so much more, Sophie. We study, we work, we travel, we earn, we shop, we eat and sleep just like everybody else. But on Rite Days… we’re HAPPY.

Happy like you’ve only seen in movies. And maybe that one time in NY.

It isn’t time yet for you to leave Mom and Dad’s house, there are some preparations to be made first. I’ll tell you all about it.

BUT PLEASE DO NOT FORGET, there are going to be alot of instructions forthcoming but PLEASE remember always that when you finally do come, you MUST BRING bring the little black book in Dad’s upper desk drawer!!! It is absolutely vital !!!

We need that money to fund the Grove Rites Festival!!!

I love you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Tegan