I always thought the craziest thing I'd ever done was going to look for alligators when I was an intern in Miami. One night a bunch of us drove around to this remote area and poked around with our little flashlights. I don't remember much; I believe it was after a full and raucous night of karaoke. I'm going to say it was somewhat swampy? I think there was an abandoned shed we walked through, also? Sorry, I don't remember much, and I can't find anyone to verify the details right now. I just remember telling someone about it the next day, and him saying, "Are you crazy? An alligator has a maximum land speed of 25 miles per hour. You? MAYBE 5."
Sounds pretty crazy, yes? But during my morning commute today, it hit me. That was merely foolish and dangerous. The craziest I-don't-even-recognize-myself thing I've ever done was the time I got together a band of near strangers, rented out a recording studio for a night and recorded a song for my boyfriend.
See the problem is, I'm a doer. I don't just think about sh*t. Well, I think about plenty of sh*t. But then I go out and do it. This was particularly true with this guy, my first boyfriend. I was on an internship (those were crazy times, weren't they, interns?) in Delaware, so far away from him in Illinois. And the nightly talking and daily e-mails weren't enough. I had to show my devotion. And I chose to do this by finding the cheesiest semi-country song and recording it on like a 16-track cassette. (Side note: cassette is such a weird-looking word now, isn't it? I could barely spell it just now.)
Seriously, where was my sense of self? Had I heard of the word co-dependent? I could injure my current self rolling my eyes at my former self.
So anyway, I chose this song, a duet (no less!), and set about finding the band to play it. I got 2 business reporters, maybe an IT person? Some other people? See how crazy this is? I was some little intern and I didn't even know these people, but I somehow got them together and we holed up in the bass player's home and rehearsed a couple times before the big night. The IT guy and I did the singing, and we were in a real studio, like with the big headsets and the pantyhose thing in front of the microphones and everything. We had a producer named Marc, I remember. And all these guys gave up a couple afternoons and a Friday night to record this song for my boyfriend. That IT guy had a pretty good voice.
See, and now I don't even know where that tape is now. I think maybe it got thrown (and I don't mean thrown out; I just mean thrown) during the break-up. But the memory of crazy lasts forever.