Liking Basement Jaxxx Might Make You Attractive; Liking Sean Lennon Too Much Might Not

An acquaintance of mine made a statement a while back that’s stuck in my head ever since. Sometimes that happens, no? A co-worker, admirer, enemy, boss, cellmate, gym partner, girlfriend, siamese twin, relative, stepmom, guardian, nanny, teacher, boyscout leader, band member, pastor, bishop, friend, crane operator, receptionist, love interest, fellow Hasselhoff fanatic, therapist, sponsor, paperboy, friend of a friend, customer, mother-in-law, cousin, halfwit uncle, stalker, hot dog vendor, ticket taker, grade-school janitor, or some other acquaintance says something that you don't automatically lend any credence. Then you think about it; the gears of your mind are churning like your gut after a soiled McRib. Your teeth clench, your face turns red, your eyes water, you look like someone just punched your soul. Your bowels loosen, your sphinct- (HEY!!! If you’re wondering when I’m going to get to the meat of this news post then FUCK OFF, this ain’t a free show, so get yer kicks someplace else, hole -- I'm trying to make a point here. You gotta break a few omelets to make a few eggs, knowhatI'msayin'? GENIUS AT WORK).

But I digress. The quote that so thoroughly annoyed/vexed me? Well, it wasn't anything gravely serious, but sometimes things that aren't gravely serious -- that are maybe, say, only vaguely, trivially serious -- become more serious than anything one would have originally considered gravely serious. So without further ado, here's the nefarious, malfeasant comment, made in the passenger seat of my car: “I think I need to date someone that listens to Basement Jaxx. I’ve never dated anyone that listened to Basement Jaxx.”

I mean WHAT THE FUCK? You think someone has a good head on his/her shoulders, you’re perfectly ready to share a tall glass of rich, chocolate Ovaltine with her/him, and he/she drops a bomb in your lap. How is a self-respecting dude supposed to respond to that anyway? Either way you look like a total douche; if you say you’ve always liked Basement Jaxx, you look like a suck-up li'l bitch nosing for a dog treat; if you say you wish they’d stuck with the dub-rapping of Remedy, you’re probably going to end up in the doghouse with those other stiffs, not a tasty treat to your name.

Me? I chose the road less traveled: I changed the subject! Here’s a completely inaccurate transcription of our conversation with the salient points intact:

Mrs. X: I think I need to date someone that listens to Basement Jaxx. I’ve never dated anyone that listened to Basement Jaxx.

Me: [looking out the car window with shock] OH MY GOD, IS THAT LINDA RONSTADT?

Mrs. X: What? Where?

Me: Oh wait, it’s just a pile of old rags... so’ve you heard the new Sean Lennon, Friendly Fire?

Mrs. X: No, but I TOTALLY love that guy. I wanna have like, 18 of his babies and I worshipped his first album. So is the new one good?

Me: [deflated like a poked beach ball] Er, yeah, I guess. [slump shoulders] I dunnoooooo...

See how that turned out? I dodged an uncomfortable conversational bullet only to get hit with a hollow point: an unrequited crush. But don’t let the unfortunate ending fool you; I still played that shit off perfectly. I should be on WifeSwap, or Flavor of Love or some shit. Whatever. I’m not picky, really. I’ll even co-star with Puck in the new edition of The Surreal Life. Hell, I’ll even share screen time with that prick Dave Eggers. Actually naw, naw, I won’t share the screen with that overrated whore, but I will star with an author I’m a little less jealous of. Jewel maybe.

Now that I have that worked out, I feel totally and completely ready to unveil a li'l piece of news. Our friend Sean L., who has been heartbroken lately if the lyrics to Friendly Fire are any indication, is going on tour! THAT'S RIGHT, THIS ENTIRE NEWS STORY IS ACTUALLY ABOUT SEAN LENNON! Isn’t that crazy? No? Well I thought it was kinda crazy. Agree to disagree?

You might be a Basement Jaxx fan IF:

Illustration by Carolina Suarez