None of the Lights: A Lesson in Appreciation

Showy? Nah, never.

(Copyright: G.O.O.D. Music, Roc-A-Fella, Kanye West)

"AYYYYYY SEXY LADAY! (GANGNAM STYLE!) Ya sexy and you know it, clap yo hands, drink some Moet. (GANGNAM STYLE!) Ya sexy and you know it, clap yo hands, drink some Moet. AYYYYY SEXY LADAY! (GANGNAM STYLE)! OP OP OP OP OP OPPAN GANGNAM STYLE. (GANGNAM STYLE!)"

His phone was ringing. The screen read "Dante Truman."

Even though it was a Sunday evening and he had been done with school for almost three weeks now, he still found himself on his high school's campus. It seemed that no matter what he did, he couldn't escape St. Paul's...there was always a reason for him to be there.

The student parking lot at the bottom of the hill at 9:00 PM were the designated meeting spot and time that he'd been given. However, he decided that before meeting up with his buddies to go see the projection of Kanye West's "New Slaves" video at the Baltimore Museum of Art, he would show up at school a little early for some hill time.

Hill time was his chance to escape from the (surprisingly) busy life he lead now that school was over. He'd sometimes come to St. Paul's just to sit on the hill, stare aimlessly at the rolling landscape and think about everything or nothing. Hill time.

"GANGNAM STYLE!"

The Diplo remix of the biggest song in the history of the world snapped him out of his trance. He'd been concentrating heavily on everything and nothing and his ringtone was somewhat of a rude awakening. He was only slightly annoyed.

"Bottom lot, NOW! We're gonna be late, bruh."

Dante seemed earnest, and he knew why. When Kanye first debuted the "New Slaves" video in 66 cities across the globe a week earlier, they had vowed that they would get to experience the awesome might of Ye's newest showing of narcissistic genius in person. It was an extremely pragmatic use of technology and social media, a campaign that was sure to garner major hype for Yeezus.

Because this premiere was so important to him and his friends, he took one last look at his world and sped down the hill in his mom's slick black Hyundai Sonata.

When he got to the bottom lot he whipped into a spot (going an admittedly unsafe speed), quite literally jumped out of the car, and greeted Dante and another dude by the name of Chris Dawson in a mere five seconds.

"How's it going, Casanova?" jeered Chris.

He shot his friend a playful "Yeah yeah yeah..." and they were on their way. So what if he was a hopeless romantic and his friends knew it? It was Ye time.

(Intermission. We've reached the halfway mark. Please enjoy this dope intermission music! Intermission Over.)

As they raced down I-83 South, the three friends mentally and physically prepared themselves for what they assumed was going to be a rowdy crowd. They figured that not only would the ratchets be flocking, but that Kanye's daring way of advertising his new album would also attract the likes of hipsters, bros, college kids, high schools kids (public and private) and just about any other type of person you could imagine. It was sure to be a mixed bag, as is expected of Kanye's fan base.

The trip took about twenty five minutes. It was a standard car ride with his good friends: some music talk, a recap of any festivities that took place in the past week and, of course, lots and lots of jokes (appropriate or otherwise) about events, people, scenarios or just whatever popped in to their heads. It was times like these that he had begun to cherish a lot lately, as he knew in several short months he'd be parting ways with Chris, Dante and all his other good homies as they all went off to form new lives and friendships at their respective colleges. Realness.

They reached the museum at around 9:40 and saw almost no one there.

"Weird," he said, "I thought people would already be showing up." His friends agreed with him but none of them thought anything of it. The projection was scheduled for 10:00 PM so the crowd would undoubtedly begin to form soon.

Following his stomach, he suggested they park and get a quick bite to eat at the nearby Subway before the projection started. A quick, "word up" of approval from Dante and Chris and the three of them headed for meaty, satisfying glory.

When they reached the in-ground restaurant, Chris and Dante ordered first. He then ordered his Feast, paid the apathetic twenty-something behind the counter, thanked him, and turned to meet his friends. When he didn't see them in the restaurant he assumed that they walked back to the car to get Dante's glasses. He needed them desperately, dude was blind without them. He began walking back to the car. After a couple blocks he texted Dante to make sure he was on the right track. The conversation went as follows:

"Yo, where are you guys?"

"Right past the TV, where are you?"

"In the restaurant?"

"Yeah, duh"

"Oh..."

By the time he got back to the restaurant, Dante and Chris were practically finished with their food. They were sitting in a large room on the other side of the Subway that he had somehow missed. They all shared a laugh at how absentminded and straight dumb he had been. Funny stuff.

It was time to walk back to the BMA so he scarfed down the six-incher and they were on their way. The next seven minutes of walk time were absolute torture. He was so unbelievably excited to finally see the "New Slaves" video in person that he was having physical stress reactions at the very thought of it. Sweaty hands. Upset stomach. Head pounding. It was all too much to handle.

Let it begin. Let it begin. LET IT BEGIN.

"Sorry man, s*** is cancelled. They ain't get the right permits."

His heart sank. His heart sank deeper than that hole to China every little kid dreams of digging. Deeper than the Marianna trench. Deeper than Ye's pockets themselves.

As the hefty museum security guard explained to the three friends, the two ratchets behind them, the two hipster dudes behind them and the well-off looking family that pulled up to the parking lot right beside them all, city police shut down the operation before it even began because the organizers had not obtained the correct permits. All he could think was, "Yeezus...why have you forsaken us?"

As he trudged back to the car, he couldn't help but feel cheated. How could he have invested so much time and hope into a single event and then be let down this way? It just seemed so incredibly unfair.

The thing was, though, it wasn't all a waste. Looking back, he couldn't help but admit to himself that he actually had fun that night. After the let down at the BMA, the three of them took a trip to McDonald's for some frozen drinks. They were delicious and refreshing.

Though he did not get to see the glorious projection that night, he was reminded of the true value of friendship. (Breaking character: I know that last sentence was corny beyond belief but, c'mon, it's the thought that counts.)

So, next time you don't get tickets to the summer blockbuster and end up getting dinner at Chipotle instead, next time your Saturday night party search ends with you and your friends in a basement watching a movie, next time you can't see the Kanye projection and you end up at Subway and McDonald's, remember that it's not always about the destination, it's about how you get there. Scratch that, what's most important is who you get there with.