11.01.1999
(beth note: I was going to cut this letter
down, because it's just so long, and I know that you, intelligent
reader, would get the point much more quickly than it took
the writer of the letter to relate it. But I decided not to
trim it. This letter is wild, and maybe by printing the whole
thing, my response will be better understood. But really,
I'm mostly printing it in entirety for your entertainment.)
Dear Beth,
I have this roommate, who's very cool, very nice,
a great guy, and supremely easy to get along with.
He's really like the best roommate you could hope
for ... except one thing. We'll get to that in a sec.
First let me say, I brought just about everything
to the scene: the TV, VCR, Stereo, Computer, lamp,
phone, iron, can opener ... basically everything we
share is mine (save the microwave and fridge. That's
fine ... I don't mind that at all.
I like my stuff and like using it - and it's never
a conflict - if one of us needs the computer, the
other one yields without a hesitation. When one of
the remote's ran out of batteries, he even replaced
them ... how thoughtful! It's great ... just one thing:
He plays really bad music on my CD player. I mean
really bad! Like we're talking Alabama, the Dixie
Chicks, Tupac, bad songs from the Rocky soundtrack
... and then he says things like "How can you not
love the song: "The Cheap Seats"?!?! It's the best
song in the world. (Mind you, the refrain is: "We
like out beer flat as can be, we like our hot dogs
with mustard and RELISH! ... And there's nothing like
the view from the cheap seats!" Basically, it's a
ridiculously bad song about a baseball game. I feel
bad for my CD player ... it doesn't deserve to be
mistreated like that.
That was the big problem ... other little things
that I don't mind as much deal with him leaving the
cd player on all the time, leaving his horrible music
in the CD player (meaning I have to touch his horrible
CDs and take them out), leaving the remote either
on his bed somewhere or on his desk, and knocking
down the 2 mini-flags that are stuck between the speakers
and the CD player. But really, these things don't
really matter ... it's just so depressing to hear
such horrible sounds coming from my cd player. It's
hard for me to really express this without sounding
silly ... Lemme try an anology.
Say, for example, that you are a photographer. You
majoring in photography, and you recently saved up
like $400 for a brand new Leica with all the great
professional features. You take all these wonderful
artsy photos ... black and white and self processed
- everything's great. Then one day you tell your friend
that he can use it, and he takes it to a frat party
and takes pictures of all of his friends drunk off
their asses, showing their hairy asses, and being
assholes. You feel like your precious creative medium
has been abused in a way. Even though he was taking
good care of it, used it properly, and made sure it
was returned in the same condition, you still feel
betrayed, angry, genuinely annoyed. And then he shows
you all his drunk pictures in excitement and you have
to pretend you think they're funny (just like you
have to pretend you really don't want to strangle
him for listening to Tal Bachman or the Cheap Seats
for the 100th time). Does that make my gripe any less
ridiculous? Anyway ... I know I've been over-verbose,
but do you have any suggestions on how I can save
my CD player without causing any unnescessary tension?
Thanks.
-Suffering with a scarred stereo
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Dear Suffering,
The thing I find most odd about your letter is that
you're showing concern for your stereo, for an object,
rather than for yourself. Is this related to the way
you pretended stuffed animals were real when you were
a child? The stereo is a thing. It is not getting hurt
by foreign CDs.
But I can kind of relate. When I surrendered Snowy,
my 1986 Pontiac 6000, to my younger brother, and my
brother started putting stickers for emo bands on Snowy's
bumper, I felt sad for Snowy. My car had been violated,
and he(/it) wasn't happy. I could tell. But then I got
over it. Snowy is a car. He is ultimately a thing. So,
like I said, is your stereo.
I can't believe that your sensitivity for an object's
feelings is really your problem. If it is, you need
to grow up. And you're in college now, so it's a good
time to do it. If the music were playing on a CD player
your roommate had brought himself, would it make you
feel better? Actually, I think it would make you feel
better, which is kind of sick. I think you need to disassociate
yourself from the stereo. See it as part of the room,
not as part of you. Even if the CD player wasn't yours,
your roommate would still comment on how great the song
"Cheap Seats" is; he would still listen to Tal Bachman,
who or whatever that is.
You can't refuse to let your roommate listen to his
music. It would cause unnecessary strife in your living
arrangement. I think you know this, though. If you're
studying and he's got his favorite songs on repeat,
ask him to wear earphones so you can concentrate. Or
listen to your own stuff on a walkman. Or suggest that
he ask for a CD walkman for Christmas (in a roundabout
way, of course). If this problem is really bothering
you, you could try to work something out where you each
get to listen to your own music half the time. Good
luck. And chill out, dude - I suspect your freshmen
year of college is going way better than most people's.
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Write to beth@dorkist.com
with your shameful secrets and anything else that's been
tearing your pretty little head apart. |
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