Guitars and Southern Accents

I remember staying up all night and seeing the sun stream through the windows. It was a good, cool night some time last year. I was wide awake and I could not stop laughing. I guess it was a good thing everyone in the house was busy with something else. They would have thought I'd gone mad. (Maybe I had.)

I was chatting and talking to a stranger halfway across the world, but it was awesome. He had a charming Southern accent and he was a musician. I talked, he played the guitar. We didn’t have faces. Just voices and hours and hours of conversation about music and America and the Philippines. He introduced me to Pink Floyd, I introduced him to Explosions in the Sky.


I remember he laughed at the way I said “fuck,” and I laughed at the way he said "situation." He said it like see-chee-wayshon. I don't know how I said "fuck" or how it sounded to him. He said it sounded innocent. I remember the sound of fingers hitting keys and I reveled at the fact that those sounds were made miles away. And yet they sounded close, and nice and comfortable. I talked at times, but I was mostly shy. I've always had issues with the telephone. But it was okay. Everything was okay.


I remember he taught me this little jingle/chant that had me say "fuck" all the time. It went something like this:

fuck fuck fuck mother mother fuck mother mother fuck fuck mother fuck mother fuck noise noise noise

1 2 1 2 3 4 4

noise noise noise smoing weed smokin weed

doin coke drinkin beers

drinkin beers beers beers

rolling phats smokin blunts

who smokes blunts

we smokes blunts

rollin blunts and smokin um

my junggle love

owee owee owee

It was fun and extremely funny. He would make me sing it and repeat because I couldn't get it right the first few times. But I eventually did and we sang it a couple more times. It was exciting. And I wish I still knew how it went. It would have been fun to sing it drunk or high or something.
I never talked to him again after that one night.