Ignorance: Phase II

I was once at a small gathering at a home in the hills surrounding Malaga, WA. The affair was casual to the degree of near-pointlessness. There was beer and a couple of ugly girls but other than that, no real amenities. I went there with my good pal Steve because he was invited by one of the ugly girls. Please do not be offended by my liberal and direct use of the word "ugly" here. You see, these girls were ugly on the inside. Well...probably. I never really found out one way or the other because they were so ugly on the outside. Anyhoo, so we were getting ready to bail for a rousing game of Duck Tales 2 back at Steve's palatial studio apartment.

As we were saying goodbye to the unfortunately faced gals, this.....gentleman came into the living room from the kitchen. He was wearing a Adidas t-shirt and a Yankees starter cap with the obligatory douche-bag tilt to the side.

" 'sup Corey?" The least ugly gal asked.

Corey. I don't why but I could have guessed that was his name.

" ' sup homegirls?" He replied, in keeping with proper "wigger" parlance.

Corey was something of an enigma in that most "homies" will act or "front", if you will, the typical tough guy "yeah I'd shoot a muthafucka" bravado. Corey however, was more interested in being perceived as an intellectual. I discovered this whilst perusing some records in a crate at the party. I pulled out a copy of Furtwangler conducting Beethoven's 9th symphony, supposedly one of the more sought after recordings of this particular symphony.

Steve and I were obsessed with Beethoven and I squealed for him to come see. "Look! Furtwangler doing Beethoven!"

Steve stole it out of my hand and we did a dance that could only be safely done in front of wiggers and ugly girls.

Corey grabbed the treasured vinyl from Steve's sweaty hands and glared at it.
"Furtwanger? Why would I wanna hear Furtwanger doing Beethoven?" he asked.

Steve and I looked at each other. "You know classical?" I asked.

"Fuckin' kiddin'? I have all of them." He wisely admitted. "My favorite is the 16th minus A."

Part of me died and went to heaven just then. Folks, he actually said "16th minus A". You know, the famous "math" piece by the great Ludwig Van. Oh it gets better.

"But if I'm gonna listen to Beethoven , I don't wanna hear no cover band. I want the real thing." Corey explained, handing the laughable record back to Steve.

"So you.....have only REAL Beethoven recordings?" I asked.

"Yep. There were my grampa's." Corey said.

"Wow. That must be....hella rare." Steve replied, again in keeping with the parlance of our company.

"Shit yeah, they are!" Corey barked. "Hella rare, homie."

Corey lifted his cap and tilted it toward the left side and exited back into the kitchen. Steve and I headed out the door in a hurry because we could not hold back the laughter a second longer. We would have died.

"Wow!" I said while gasping for air. "That guy rules."

Steve lit a joint in the driver's seat of his borrowed uncle's car, and buckled himself in for safety. "An actual recording of Beethoven. I bet he keeps it on a mantle next to his original Michelangelo on black velvet and a Polaroid of Jesus." He said through a cloud of purple smoke.

We headed back home for Duck Tales 2.

I miss Steve dearly. I remember this day vividly every single time I play the Furtwangler record he stole for me as we left the party.