You should wannabe back

By Corky Thatcher

First Assignment: What I Did This Summer

Ahem! Mrs. Krabappel, fellow classmates:

Well, May had arrived, and as usual things weren’t turning out the way

I’d planned. Since I wasn’t living a charmed life, fate eventually decided

I would have to work in the service industry this summer. Not giving up

that easily, I decided if it had to be this way, why not move to Vancouver?

My extended middle finger was pressed against the glass of the airplane

window as we banked over Calgary and soared off into the Western sky. I

fancied myself metaphorically running away to join the circus.

On the coast my links to Calgary and the things I had been doing disappeared

beneath a layer of smog, pot smoke and sunblock. Sailing in the evenings,

naps in the park, sex on the beach, weeks of uninterrupted sunshine school,

harumph! Why had I enrolled at U of C again? Max Cafe? Group projects? Shelling

out $90 for a textbook that would sit unopened for the entire semester?

Book-smart but boring women? Dinos sports? Come on!

Moreover, the rewards of a university education were losing their lustre

as well. Climbing the corporate ladder, mortgages and car payments, a trophy

wife, time-share condo vacations and Viagra weren’t exactly the things I

dreamed about at night (okay, maybe the trophy wife, but still). It was

easy to let go, to forget about a lot of things. I had no idea I would meet

a creature who would change my life.

That day I was sitting by a log on the beach, playing my guitar,

sipping a chocolate milk and taking in the scenery. She surprised me

by tapping me on the shoulder. “Play me a tune, baby?”

Her name was Geri, a standout redhead with mischief in her eyes and fire

in her heart. It turned out she used to be in a terrible singing group over

in England, but it didn’t work out for her. Still, she laughed openly, and

chatted to me with an enthusiasm I hadn’t heard in a long time. We talked

about what the future held over a steamed clam dinner.

“You’re going back to school in September, and you’re going to like

it!” Geri exclaimed, chiding me for my scholastic aversions. “Don’t

be a baby! Not everyone goes to university so that they can wind up living

in a posh house-there’s more to it than that! I know things can seem scary

if you take the world’s weight on your back, but don’t. If life is a game,

as you seem to think now, at least you ought to be a good sport, right?”

I shook my head slowly, pouring another glass of wine. Was this sexy

woman making any sense?

Geri continued, unfazed: “People forget how being successful is

related to the idea of literacy. But I’m not simply talking about knowing

how to read, baby. In this world you gotta speak the language, you gotta

know which end is up, you know? That applies when you’re balancing your

chequebook, choosing who to vote for, picking out what’s legit and what’s

wannabe-the whole bag! If you can’t tell the difference, sooner or later

someone or something’s gonna sucker you, right?”

She sucked some water through her straw.

“How come you’re an authority on this?” I asked. “Ever

hear of the Monkees? You’re a refugee from a marketing ploy disguised as

a sugar-pop band! The kids who don’t know this are being taken for a ride,

along with their parents’ wallets. Lots of smart people out there think

you’re part of the problem!”

“Exactly,” Geri continued. “I used to be a poster-child

for bad pop, which seems to be most of what’s out there. One day something

changed inside me-I woke up and understood what I was doing, and I had to

get out. But don’t you see? Until the young bra-stuVers out there who used

to be my fans wake up to the mixed messages of ‘girl power,’ the problem

continues.”

She leaned back in her chair, hands clasped behind her head.

“Knowledge and understanding is where it’s at, baby. You’ve got

cool taste in music, books and all that stuff, and you know why, don’t you?

It’s ’cause you understand stuff like context and significance, which are

some of the best tools for experiencing the richness of truly great work,

and avoiding the bad. You said that’s the stuV you were best at in school,

didn’t you?”

She batted an eyelash in my direction. I smiled back, and she took my

hand in hers.

“Look at it another way: You’ve been wondering if life is a big

joke, right? Sure looks that way sometimes. But what’s the popular humour

of the day, Mr. Smart Aleck? Satire! Irony! You don’t get the punchline

unless you’re ‘in’ on the joke, which is really what life is all about.

I think that applies to everything we do, so learn while you can.”

I nodded, and she grinned.

“You’re going to have a great time if you go back and finish your

degree. You’re clever, articulate, and you know how to laugh. C’mon gorgeous,

say you’ll be there for me?”

Now as I look back on it, that was the exact moment when I fell headlong

into her disarming gaze.

Shortly after Geri flew back to England, I went to the travel agent and

booked my flight home to Calgary. We had only been together for three weeks,

but I held on to each moment like it was a lifetime. We laughed all the

time, the sex was fantastic, but more than anything I was happy that she

opened my eyes again to something good.

While at the airport check-in line, I rolled her words around in my head

one more time, clutching at the Victoria’s Secret bra she had given me as

a reminder of our brief but magical encounter. You went to university to

spice up your life. Enjoy it. The plane banked on its final approach to

the city, as I waved at my home and imagined the exciting things to come

over the next eight months.

And that’s what I did this summer.