One Hundred and Twenty Frames Per Second

After receiving a degree, the normal reaction would be relief and nirvanic happiness. Five years in college have finally ended and I begin my journey into my career. Not having to wake up in the morning worrying about the exam the next morning; free from caring of having to wonder if I saved the right presentation onto my USB drive; and relaxing knowing that I am done with financial aid and accounting losing my deposit check and have to race to get a new one sent. Sure, it would be normal be happy and I was happy; however, it took a nasty turn when i was five miles from home.

My friend Jory needed a ride home, and I agreed to take her, it would be nice having someone to talk to and joke around with while embellishing in the glory of being done. I never really have anyone in the car with me when I am driving to and from LA. This time, the trip was going to be alot shorter. Come to think of it, I really don't remember passing by some of the area because I was so into the conversation that the scenery really didn't impress me like the conversations that we were having. I haven't talked to her in a couple months so we had a lot to catch up on.

I get on the 78 heading East. I remind Jory to tell her mom to make her way to our rendevouz point so I can drop her off. I was ten miles from home. I was pretty excited and could not wait to get to an actual bed and sleep and relax. Then I reached the five mile mark. We reached the Vista Village overpass. While turning to the right, my car began to shake, I was losing control of the car. I was panicking and freaking out while looking to Jory to see if she was okay. She was freaking out. Then everything switched from being normal thirty frames per second to one hundred twenty frames per second.

In the film world, thirty frames per second is the standard rate of filming real time. Actually it is 29.97, but I round it up. When a person wants to film in slow motion, you increase the shutter speed to sixty on up. It will capture the footage in better detail. You could try to do the same with thirty frames per second by tweeking it in post-production software like After Effects, but it will turn out more choppy.

Going back to the story, everything switched to one hundred and twenty frames per second. The back of my car lifted up a inch or so into the air, then, on my left side, it came crashing down. I look in horror to see the tire that was supposed to be there roll in front of me. The tire began rolling really fast. It lifted off the shoulder dividing the westbound-eastbound travellers and bounced off the column heading towards us. Seeing the tires treads swirling towards us was the most haunting thing I will ever remember in my life. I could feel the tires axel grinding against the ground as I began to turn to the left shoulder. Sparks were flying from the back left axel. The tire was still coming towards us.

I don't remember any sound, but I did get the wooshing feeling of the tire flying over us. Missing us and flying into the traffic. When the car came to a stop, I immediately looked to Jory to see if she was okay. When she told me she was fine, I look back to see the tire is in the third lane. The lane farthest from us. People were really good in dodging it. I was so relieved. I didn't want to be responsible for causing the Apocalypse on the day of my graduation.

Inside the car, adrenalin was pumping. My heart still racing. I was trying to find my phone so I could call my dad. The phone had launched underneath the brake. I was afraid to get it for fear of someone bumping into me in the fast lane. I grab the phone quickly as the cars were flying by me, making the car sway to and fro. I begin dialing. I tell him what happened. I wanted to get Jory to safety so she wouldn't be in any more danger. Then Jory points something out to me.
"Look."

I look and see the tire rolling on the other side of the freeway. Then a red jeep speeding by swerving. I caused a fender-bender. I have heard people dying from a flying tire. Dane Cook even jokes: "a tire hit her in the face...and she had her hands up like she was going to get in a slap fight with a Goodyear...." I watched like the man in Rear Window observing the crime from across the way.

My mom, thankfully, was driving behind me by ten minutes so she called my dad up to see if I was okay, when I heard that, I had her pick up Jory and take her to the meeting point so she wouldn't be in anymore danger.

It took the towing guy an hour and a half to get to where I was at. WHile I was waiting for him, I was fighting sleep, afraid that once I fell asleep I would be hit by a passing car and it would be the end of me. Once the guy arrived and towed my car up, he told me to get in through the passenger side; only the passenger side was in the fast lane. When he signaled to me to go, I ran out into the freeway and jumped inside as fast as I could go.

After dropping the car off, I had to go back to the place where I crashed and find my tire. I ran out to get it, when I came back the wind made the passenger door fly open and it hit me in the face. After cursing loud for about a minute, I sat in the car and I broke down crying as blood and tears were falling from my face.

I could not believe. On a day like today, that I was going to have all this happen to me. I was supposed to be happy today, but inside I was opening up the first chapter to my life wondering what I am going to do with everything that was laid on me all within one day. This is the welcoming mat to my adult life, and I am already looking for some solace...

Songs about Cake

There are some really catchy songs in our day. We have Fergie singing about her "London Bridges." For me personally, I wouldn't want to touch her London Bridge, because to her, it's sweaty when we all know it's something else. Then there is the Macarena. A song that plays for five minutes repeating the same thing over and over again while we still have yet to understand what they are saying. My favorite is "Milkshakes" by Kelis. A song where she talks about her boobs. The tune is absolutely catchy, and although repetitive, can grow on you over time. But none can surpass the song of the seventies.
Seventies were all about disco, wearing roller skates to the clubs. Bell bottoms, high volume hair, bad fashion, and hip huggers (the introduction to the modern hoochy). Disco clubs are alot like our gay clubs: bumping with the music and fun---haven't gone to a straight club but I hear that they're lame. But we all know one artist that was pre-Madonna and oddly enough, is still around singing: Donna Summers
Recently, I was listening to her songs. And one of the songs, when I listened closely, had the ODDEST lyrics to date. It begins as a sad song, then it gets all disco and bumpy. I have to admit, it's one of my favorites (right up there with "Love to Love You Baby"). But when you hear the lyrics, you realize that she is singing about a cake that got messed up in the rain, and how she is upset that she doesn't have the recipe to make another one. I am talking about her song: "MacArthur Park."
I did some research on it before writing this blog, and I discovered that this song is a symbolic representation of a lover's lament. Taken from the poet W. H Auden whom described in one of his poems as "My face looks like a wedding-cake left out in the rain." It describes of a love that is lost and how she can never get it back again. But in spite of all that, the lyrics are about a cake?
The song was originally 8:40 and was part of the MacArthur Park suite which ran 19 minutes long. Containing three songs: "One of a Kind," "MacArthurs Park," and "Heaven Knows." I just thought it was funny how a disco diva sings a song about a cake and everyone in the club at the time, and even now, think it's a banging song. I like it, but I find it funny singing a disco song about cake, or about milkshakes...why all these fatty foods? Couldn't you sing a song about a carrot or a banana? That's somewhat sexual...