Facebook status messages are amusing, but when they borrow from long-forgotten Camp Lo lyrics, they are empyreal for their ability to summon Mnemosyne, who then sets up her projector for an impromptu mental picture show entitled “nostalgia”.
Seeing SM commenter Yeti’s “Yeti thinks this is it, what” took me back to 1997 at Formula One speeds, when “Luchini” lived in my car stereo (and my driving of a non-McLaren Mercedes was about as sloppy as Schumacher’s at Jerez). Luchini was a prominent part of my soundtrack in the late 90s; the tape it was on (ha!) flipped constantly via auto-reverse as I roamed from the legendary-but-now-defunct Green Planet in Davis to Newpark Mall’s then-revolutionary Forever 21, for hoochie ‘fits to wear to San Francisco’s Sol y Luna (and inevitably and regrettably, Steps of Rome* immediately after that) in North Beach. 1997. Sunroof always open, speeding down 880, being 22…that was it, what.
Obviously, since this song has been on auto-reverse in my head for the last 24 hours, you know what’s coming next: it’s our Flash Fiction 55Friday theme! This week, as you ponder participation pensively, get inspired by Sonny Cheeba’s** Dadaist lyrics and blaxploitation fetish. Alternately, you could choose your own “damn, it’s been years since I heard that”-joint for a starting point or write about something unrelated to excellent hip-hop entirely.
If you’re newer to the Mutiny or you have already forgotten what we did with Radiohead two weeks ago, allow me to refresh your drink.
Flash fiction, also called sudden fiction, micro fiction, postcard fiction or short-short fiction, is a class of short story of limited word length. Definitions differ but is generally accepted that flash fiction stories are at most 200 to 1000 words in length. Ernest Hemingway wrote a six-word flash: “For sale. Baby shoes. Never worn.” Traditional short stories are 2,000 to 10,000 words in length.[wiki]
One type of flash fiction is the short story with an exact word count. An example is 55 Fiction or Nanofiction. These are complete stories, with at least one character and a discernible plot, exactly 55 words long.[wiki]
So, craft a story with exactly 55-words (no more, no less) about anything even remotely related to our theme and leave it in the comments below. If you’re still not convinced that this is a worthwhile timesuck OR you can’t wrap your head around how a story so tiny would even work, peep this, my favorite 55 from our previous, election-themed edition:
I crawled from the wreckage of the cab, dazed. I couldn’t feel my left side.
“You okay?” a man asked.
I lurched toward the crowd of onlookers, my leg dragging.
“I… vote…Obama!” I gasped.
His face registered alarm. “Buddy, you gotta get to a hospital!” he said.
I shoved him aside.
“Fuck… you… Clintonite!” [srsly]
Excellent 55, Saurabh. Your submission made me laugh out loud. 🙂 This week, it should be even easier to flash us with fiction, considering our Camp-y subject. If anyone thinks this song is suboptimal inspiration, know that when Yeti put the needle on the record, when the drum beats go like this with his Luchini-enhanced Facebook status, he mercifully replaced that “My arms get cold…in February air“-noize` from the Old Navy commercials, which had been stuck in my head for DAYS. Would you have rather had that? Didn’t think so. 😉
*If the non-human vermin which now infest Steps (see the “regrettably” link) aren’t icky enough, look what they did when I was just trying to reapply lipstick one night, four years ago! You can get that lap dance there for free, but who wants it? I know, serves me right for the cosmetic-application-in-public faux pas, but COME ON.
** I swear there was a kid with this name at either Davis or Cal.
`Before you ask– it’s by Lights.
Anna You get crazy points for being up on camp lo! uptown saturday night was a classic album!
Thank you. 🙂 I was feeling Black Nostaljack.
Jerez has never been a Schumacher favorite.
Anna:
I did not know you fancied the Silver Arrows 😀
Karthik:
Excuses, Excuses, Excuses!
I feel the lowe!
Mercedes maybe, Silver Arrows, no way Jose.
I was not making excuses, why would I need to when he did this at his very last official race.
Since you started this ;), “Why was Hamilton speeding?”
“He wanted to make sure that even if he turned off his car, he could get to the Ferrari factory and get their data.
No story for now but i do own the actual (cd) album from which the single was taken–after purchasing I had recurrent dreams about afrosheen, champagne bubbles, cheeba and doing yoga. need to figure out a way to work that into a 55-word story. No-talent hacks like myself need a few days to prepare.
One measure of this:
plus one of this:
and a dash of this:
gives this lowe-lowely cocktail for a Friday night. (Skip the lyrics, just admire the costumes and choreography).
She tried to remember 1997. Learner’s permit, pick-up truck, summer job singing and dancing in a leotard and top hat. Another job stuffing envelopes, listening to the radio all day long. Mmmmbop??? Being asked to prom by a senior – wow!!! Titanic, three times. The senior saw her gaze at Leonardo, became jealous, and dumped her.
Lets get rich…..What?! The cheeky vines The sugar dimes Cant quit…What?!
classic!
The two hang in the dark corner of a closet, faded by long settled ten year old dust. One suit was plum; the other, olive. Both were double-breasted. Black tees nestle inside, never again to see the light of day.
Sometimes, I almost hear the music and smell the Polo cologne. What is love, indeed.
I fell over, I was laughing so hard. Thank you. 🙂
This lady’s just unstoppable!
Quick with names tres droppable.
With wordy Latinate excess,
She hectors us to express
Our deepest pangs of nostalgia
Provoking in me instead neuralgia
That makes me reach for the Aspirin Lest I succumb to the funk I’m in,
Suckered into letting pen dip In ink not nearly quite as hip.
“what are you listening to?” “luchini. it’s by camp lo.” “zucchini? wait what’d you say?” “LUCHINI. aka this is it.” “what does that even mean?” “it means ‘also known as’.” “no. what does lutini mean…” “Luchini. chee. CHEEE. like your moms must have said to you all the freaking time…” “you’re annoying, you know that?”
My first clue to how this would go was in gthe moving van packed with all my stuff on my way to Baltimore. I called her to ask her to pick up the keys to my new apartment, and she didn’t want to leave her parents’ house.
I should have just turned around right then.
In the car, 1997
“What are your plans, edi?” “My PLANS? As in what?” “You’ve already lost a year, and I have let that go, but which LSAT do you plan on sitting for?” “Daddy…I already told you I don’t want to go.” “Nonsense. Time to get serious. You’re going to law school.” “No, daddy…I am not.”
I have looked over this post three of or even four times. No idea what the song is about, long ting to look at the link. 1997 was a great year, three of my all time fav films came out. This is it reminds me of washing my cloths in winter 2002/03. is this it.