Again, this isn’t a favorite of the decade, rather an artifact from the year 2000, but it is one that I can still clearly remember seeing for the first time. It was a big to do and premiered on MTV at the end of an hour long “Making the Video” broadcast.
In true olde tyme-y fashion I remember seeing this premiere huddled around a TV with 5 or 6 other guys, in a small, baby blue wallpapered hotel room in Avalon, Catalina. We were all there as a part of the High School soccer team, to play against the natives in two league matches.
In 2000, I was still only a couple months into my time as a High Schooler. I had come from another school, and was one of only 6 new students in the grade, the rest had been together since 7th. So in many ways this was my first real extended introduction to the student body.
I was assigned a room with the two other freshman players, and it was in this room that the premiere took place. I am assuming we were watching a rerun of the premiere as it must have been the middle of the day on a Friday or Saturday. We had just recently gotten off the boat and settled into our rooms, going to Avalon was a huge social event, and many of the players were eager to enjoy their free time before we had to get ready for the game. While we debated who would sleep where we put on the TV, naturally the first channel we turned to was MTV. Someone on MTV mentioned something about “Filter” and in an attempt to get to know me, one of my roommates asked me if I liked the band. I replied that I had never heard them, to which he instantly reassured: “Oh, You’d like them.” As casually and assuredly as if our friendship went far back, and he knew my tastes well.
Somehow it happened, perhaps because of where our room was situated, that it became the room with the open door, and it wasn’t long before others began gathering to watch MTV. Upperclassmen would mill about, drifting in and out, jokingly harassing freshmen, all while attempting to see how the girls’ team rooms where laid out, until finally the video began and we all sat around in silence.
I wasn’t into rap or any of this, but I feigned interest, and at the very least I always enjoyed watching the “Making of…” . It was certainly an introduction to Eminem for me, but it might have been for everyone else as well.
The video ended and I remember one upperclass man, the moment it ended, hopping up, grabbing his shorts while jovially shouting his approval before immediately bouncing out of the room now ready to get on with his day. As if he were now a free man, a free man who saw something he really enjoyed.
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That trip to Avalon was a moment in my life that is well suited for the soft nostalgic hushed tones of an adult voice over. It was really a summer camp like environment, Avalon a small touristy and picturesque city, filled almost exclusively with Golf Karts, and ne’erdowell natives looking to start fights. The school tradition of visiting Avalon, had it’s own folklore, and traditions, the most famous being the one they call “Buffalo”. Buffalo, a high schooler unnaturally large, and strong for his age, (however it might be that he was in high school not by account of his age but simply as result of the grades he had managed to graduate from,) was a sort of central figure in the local youth culture. He was a dominant football player, and I am sure was present as well in intimidating the young mainlanders.
Back then the high school maximized it’s journey to Avalon, and scheduled for all our sports teams to play in that one weekend. In soccer Avalon was the perennial league champion, and I think would end up being champions again that year. Their record at home was near perfect, as they had a small irregular sized field, housed in a valley where by all the towns citizens could file in and watch the game. On the visitor side the hill was so sharp and close to the field, that there was hardly even room for a physical bench.
We lost our first game 2-0, but I know we gave them a tough fight, and I think I might have scored a goal but ultimately we lost despite having a pretty solid team. While we were dejected, it only lasted for about as long as the walk down back to our hotel.
Nighttime was the real main event.
It’s all fuzzy now sadly, and I would certainly benefit from sitting around a table and reminiscing with those who where there. That being said, after the game we went back to our room and showered ready to go back out and watch the Basketball teams try to make up for our loss. Uneasy and still tentative in friendships with my freshmen roommates, I quietly followed them to the gymnasium. We were able to bypass the ticket sales and sit in the area designated for our school.
After about half way through the JV game, they began to get restless, I could begin to sense that all along the plan wasn’t to innocently watch far below competent level basketball. Eventually, after what seems like some debate, they leaned over to me and asked if I wanted to go with them to sneak a joint on the golf course. Me, a good old momma’s boy, would do no such thing. However I had to keep it cool, as if I would do it, just I didn’t feel like it at the time. Something I’m positive they saw right through.
And so they left, looking conspicuously inconspicuous.
I was left alone to watch what seemed like a sport where the goal is to hit the rim and not have the ball go in. I began to look around, for other people I might have known, but mostly just to people watch. I noticed that indeed there was someone I knew and she was sitting alone.
During orientation they rounded up all the new students, from all the grades, which was maybe a total of 12 students, and gave us all a feel good, warm fuzzies time waster of a day. At the end of which, I found myself waiting in the front parking lot on a bench, for some unusual reason it would be that I had to wait for quite a while. Seeing that I was completely idle, she came up to me. I recognized her as a fellow new student, the lone student who was being admitted into the Junior class.
Perhaps it is because when you are a freshman, upperclassmen already seem like adults, or maybe it’s just a testament to her demeanor but she was the most polished, composed teenage I’d ever come across. She was a mini-adult, but without the pretension of a Dakota Fanning, or someone who is self-aware of their own sophistication.
And so we began to talk, and it wasn’t a conversation I’d have with girls my age, it was comfortable like the ones I was used to having with adults. With adults I’ve always known what to say, and how to act, mostly because I know they don’t keep score with “cool points” which always set me at ease. We talked about how it was that she was able to join the school as a Junior, that she attended the school as a freshman and recently moved back to California. I shared my past as coming from the public school, and we had a genuine, comfortable conversation.
And so there she was, alone, contentedly watching no-basketball. She was there as a member and co-captain of the Girl’s soccer team, in their inaugural season. Eventually she saw that I was there, and motioned me over to sit with her. With a sideways smile, I got up and moved over to where she was sitting. We picked up where we left off, she asked genuine questions about my first couple months at school, and she listened thoughtfully. And so together we watched the remainder of the no-basketball game.
Because of my ability on the soccer field, I earned the respect or at least acceptance of many of the upperclassmen, however I never felt that I could actually belong and be “in” with them in social situations, it just seemed like a classic rule break of traditional high school dynamics. So when they arrived to catch the end of the Varsity some-basketball game, I quietly drifted away from the bleachers and out of the gymnasium to wander the town alone.
The small boats and wave runners floated on the shores of the island, set to the backdrop of the large 1930’s casino in the background. I walked up and down the strip several times before heading towards the arcade. Here I met up with some of the freshman who after a bout with the arcades, where looking to get some fried chicken. I went with them to the local, tiny KFC but didn’t dare order anything.
In the morning, we carried out our high school tradition and ate at the local breakfast joint. Stories of a fight of some kind filtered in, but I’m not sure if it ever really happened or was merely a scuffle, blown out of proportion.
We played another game, this time we played our guts out, and we tied them 2-2. After which we packed up our bags and headed for the boats.
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Filter: "Take a Picture"
An obvious take on Gregory Crewdson photos, directed by David Meyers.
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