Prismacolor & ink on 5 x 81/4 Moleskin page
We’ve got their Ipod player piping beautifully out of its $500 Bose speaker set, a play list we found called “Chris’ Rehearsal Dinner”. That could mean my sister’s recent ex-husband Chris, or Jennifer’s son, my pseudo-stepbrother Chris. After the third pop country song comes on, I decide it’s the latter. Danny keeps reaching his finger up to the Ipod controls on top of the fridge to skip us through any of the less-than-desirable numbers, like the pop country, apparently. I only just start to recognize Faith Hill or Tim McGraw’s voice and then – skip - he reaches up and gives them the finger. I’m glad when he flips through the beginnings of a bunch of crap songs and then stops on a track I love. The tension of wondering when he’ll stop feels like watching a roulette wheel click to a halt, and I catch myself being gratefully thrilled for the tiniest indications of shared taste, thinking thoughts like “Oh thank god, he stopped on REM’s ‘Night Swimming’.” This is what happens, I guess, when you spend two months getting to know someone and the third month unlearning what you thought you knew.
Text by Heather Anderson
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