Missed Connections, Vol. 1

Some of you who know me well know that I often comb the Missed Connections on Craigslist before bed. I first started doing this because of a secret mission I have, but I soon became addicted to the slightly voyeuristic peek my forays offer into the lives of others.

Missed Connections is a way to reach out to someone in the universe whose path has crossed yours too fleetingly. The prototypical M.C.: man sees gorgeous woman in supermarket, they make eye contact (or he thinks they do), man turns into putty and does nothing, woman assumes he's not interested (or never noticed him to begin with) and leaves, man smacks himself and turns to the comfortable confines of cyberspace where he is John Wayne and afraid of nothing, man writes a Missed Connection post seeking the woman in the floral dress in the checkout line of Trader Joe's in Alhambra at 2:30pm on Sunday. Man waits anxiously for a response.

Man gets response. Man doesn't get response. The dynamics of fate skew toward the latter, I'm sure.

These can be fascinating in and of themselves, both in diversity of expression and range of insight. However, there is a wide spectrum of other offerings to be found on Missed Connections. They range from flights of fancy to long-lost-loves to rants on the meaning of our lonely existence. Some of it is gay, some of it straight. Some of it is banal, some of it profound. Some of it is well-written, some of it not, some of it interminably long and some only a few words. But all of it (with the exception of the occasional solicitation that was meant to go into Casual Encounters) points to a deeper human need: to find that special person and be acknowledged by them and be sure they feel the same way about you. In other words, to not miss out on that most powerful and elemental human experience, the Connection.

The world is a lush human habitat teeming with love, hurt, victory and drama. Enjoy.

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To Superman aka My Midwestern Heaven- w4m

Date: 2010-04-11, 3:28AM

Dear Superman,

How are you? Busy saving Metropolis I suppose, I guess there really is no rest for the wicked. I haven't heard from you since you got back from salvaging the South American forests, so much for your holiday huh..considering you just needed time away you said.

Me, I'm here having to post you this note on Craigslist (of all places). On a sad Saturday.

I guess it's fitting to write you here considering this is where you found me last year, practically half-dead from escaping Manchester Black. Nothing quite makes the villain as a British accent. Still, setting all evil charm aside, you managed to save me through judicious use of your wonderful Midwestern values not to mention your amazing superpowers, the x-ray vision was particularly effective. You not only saw through my underwear but apparently through the strange bravado I tried to put up in an effort to hide how horribly shredded I was. I was clearly post-traumatic. And incredulous at your kindness.

You managed to revive me just in time for Christmas, when I was half-delirious with pain that I didn't think my world would ever heal from the way it cracked so loudly. You were smart. You were funny. You were tender. You didn't look like your news pictures but you were in short, just Super.

When you flew off after tending to my wounds and actually sharing yours with me, I sat happily at home hoping you would come by again. After all I didn't want you to think it was just a Savior Crush on my part and I know how you hate paparazzi and stalkers. And from time to time you would check on me..but somehow your concern and curiosity became interspersed with fear and avoidance. You had once again become invincible.

Since then, you've told me you've battled disease (some kind of alien flu I don't want to be too specific as that would be publicity for the evil-doer who released it on mankind), missed a date with me due to out of town guests (from good ol' Krypton, and "it's such a long way"), been on extended work projects (because Batman had technical funding issues when the economy hit Wayne Industries and you always take up the slack since you operate sans technology) until finally, one day you simply wrote, you couldn't be with me. You weren't ready, you said. I wish I could be more there for you, you said.

Which is interesting considering you always tell me I'm amazing...and even in one completely unexpected moment, told me and I paraphrase very loosely, that you, "Must...not...come..too...close...will get..weaker, scared..of..hurting". I don't know how it happened, but I had suddenly become your Kryptonite Seductress.

I know we're not from the same planet, but now I'm not sure if you're considering me as "too exotic", or maybe so unexpectedly far from your usual type - face it Lois Lane was a bit of a Bitch, not to mention pushy. And she didn't exactly wait for you did she?? Or did I just start glowing greenly at some point during that wonderful night?

If I did, I'm sorry. But that's what happens when I get happy. I glow. If it's green, mea culpa.

I know in the bigger scheme of things, you have two thousand good reasons to not want to pursue this, number one being this ridiculous sense of responsibility to Metropolis and the Universe at large followed by this immense sense of purpose you have. Which you don't want to interrupt in case my green glow turns out to be Kryptonic. Well, it isn't. It's earthly and benign, just like the forest you rescued. And yes, I am different..but I don't want to explain more as at the end of the day, I have to accept your reasons at face value then leave it be. I mean, maybe you just don't like me that much at all which would be odd considering you tell me you do.

I know the more you come around me, the more I'll probably glow and you're fearful that you will either hurt me or I will hurt you. So these past months I have tried to be brave and forget about you, it just doesn't seem to be working. I inevitably wonder about what you're doing, or where you are, or all the interestingly human bits of you..like the way your eyes crinkle when you smile. And that you're fascinatingly not exempt from having to blow your nose, I find that really funny. And sure I'll admit it, those red briefs are a sight to behold.

All I know is that in your head it makes sense to ignore the incredible attraction. Even when you wished you could fly back to me again, you don't. So you leave me here.. in the fortress. Once you said you would come back but you never did. So I avoid sending you anything as I want to respect your wishes. Just right now..it's really hard. Specially when I'm under a Manchester Black attack and have to run for cover.

Is this how you really want to let it go? I guess your reasons are Good, I mean who can argue with your super intellect?

I admit I'm hoping your heart does. Unless it too is irredeemable from having turned to steel. This is meant to be kind of funny but it's really not.. I'm sad, I wish I could see you and I am sick of polishing all this crystal.

All I can do I guess is wish you well and know that when I look up at the sky, it's not a bird, it's not a plane..it's Superman.

yours,
because i know what falling feels like


Location: The Fortress of Solitude
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
OK to contact me about appearing in CL documentary series
Original URL: http://losangeles.craigslist.org/wst/mis/1686572396.html

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So so sad. - w4m

Date: 2010-04-11, 7:43PM

I can still almost hear your when you would say, "babe". I get random flashbacks of doing the most insignificant things with you, like just walking down the street to get some meatballs or pizza or looking for movies at Blockbuster for the night. I'm different now, more quiet, don't laugh or smile much, lost some more weight, you would definitely make me eat some toast like in Vegas, I think I was always too skinny for you, I guess I should've listened when you said I needed to gain weight. I think a million things. "Why? " is the main one. I adored you and no one is you. Maybe I never really knew you, even though you said you could be completely yourself around me, the you I knew wouldn't have left me and been okay, but apparently you are just fine. I feel like you couldn't wait to get away from me. You hate to care about people and since I was the only person you cared about in California like you said, then you should be so happy now. I miss you, I can still smell you and hear you laugh and when I think about, I still get that feeling I got when you would hold me, you said I felt perfect in your arms and I did. What makes my brain hurt the most is that everything was a great between us, it was almost a year and we had one argument and until the day we broke up everything was awesome. You told me that I deserve someone better. I only ever wanted you and you knew that. You could have been honest, completely honest, that really didn't seem like a reason to walk away from the person that fulfilled your every desire in a woman, the most beautiful, sexiest, generous, caring woman in the world, as you said, even up until 2 days before we broke up. I had a mini reunion from friends from grade school, everyone kept telling me how beautiful I was and one friend asked how it felt to have everyone stare at me every time I walked into a room and I all I could thing was that wasn't the case because you left. You know my ego and self esteem are very healthy as well as my pride but my thoughts just drift back to you. Who knows, nothing seems to make sense lately. I just pretend and my friends try to be supportive and understanding and no one ever brings you up. If I happen to mention you or someone asks what happened they just say it that it was for the best or that someone better will come around. I don't know what is going on in your life right now but I miss you and I hope you are happy, maybe one day you will email and just let me know why, it would help. Was there someone else, did you get scared (I know the whole it's too good to be true thing scared you but I thought you got over it), was I too thin, too good to you? Uggg, I guess I will never know. You said no one had ever treated you better, the least you could have done it tell me the whole truth, nothing hurts as bad as not really knowing. Where your lies catching up to you?

Oh well, I sound like a broken record. Hope you are happy and healthy and found what you are looking for. My heart is broken every time I think about you but I usually stop myself from thinking about you. I miss you babe. I know I sound pathetic, I know this and chances are I never even cross your mind but that's what Craigslist is for to be a fool and no one knows who you are.


Location: Too far and too long
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
Original URL: http://losangeles.craigslist.org/wst/mis/1687736048.html

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this house is now cold and empty

Date: 2010-04-14, 3:44AM

I thought I could handle your not being here. I couldnt know that this house would hold nothing further for me now that youre gone.


Location: West Covina
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
Original URL: http://losangeles.craigslist.org/sgv/mis/1691434300.html

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To the girl who rolled her truck

Date: 2010-04-15, 10:14AM

After driving all night from San Francisco I see you flip your truck on to its side. I'm not even sure how you did it but all I saw was your truck come flying off the side of the off-ramp and bounce straight up coming off the ground!! It landed on its tail end and rolled onto the side. I pulled over and ran to see if I could help. When I got there the door was locked but the drivers window was either broken or rolled down. It was hard to see due to the rain and me being half blind with glasses.... I asked if you were ok and you said yes. I could tell you were freaked out when you grabed my arm and said "OH MY GOD....SHIT.....OH MY GOD... SHIT!!!!" I told you to un-lock the door and GET OUT.. You un-buckled your seat belt and fell to the passenger side window. I reached for you telling you again to get out of the truck!!! I know you were disoriented and confused so was I... but I wish you would have just grabbed my arm right away and got out of the truck. Instead you stumbled around gathering things in your truck... I told you again to leave it and get out.. you said that you needed it and continued looking for whatever you where looking for... by this time other kind people had pulled over and come to help. I asked one to hold the door so I could help you out. Next thing I remember is your truck being struck by another car and the two guys behind me go flying like a 100 feet!!!! Your truck spins around with you still in it on its side.. When it comes to a stop I run over to find you un-harmed!!! Unbelievable... by this time I am totally freaked out and confused... You roll your truck, get hit by another car going 50-60 mph, and it looked like you didn't even have a scratch?? The other two guys got hit hard. I never even saw the other guy. But when I ran over.. there where two of them laying on the off ramp. I ran down to the end of the ramp to stop traffic coming off the freeway... I stopped the traffic and returned to my car to call 911. The driver of the other car that had struck yours was helping with the two people down on the road and I think you were standing in the bushes on the side of the road. When I was sitting in my car I could feel the force of the other cars against mine as they went by.. I realized I was putting myself in danger and left the scene. I called 911 and told them I was in a unsafe are on the freeway and gave them my information and reported the accident.

You are the luckiest person on Earth!!! I hope you do great things with your life....


Location: I-5 Burbank
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
Original URL: http://losangeles.craigslist.org/lac/mis/1693567325.html

Mist

As I was looking through my inbox for a song lyric I needed I stumbled on an old email, copied below, that I obviously wrote in a frantic daze and sent to a friend who was very dear to me at the time. I never got a response from her, which is probably fair because the contents are equal parts intense, grandiose and unprompted. The sad thing is that it was probably meant as a gesture of warmth to someone I cared about.

I copy it here as a reminder of the "heavy fog" I found myself traveling during that time in my life and in honor of whatever kernel of insight about existence those convoluted words point to.

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3/17/07

Wanted to get this down before I slip into a dreamless sleep. You're
the only one I can think to send it to.

As I left UC Santa Barbara in the heavy fog I passed the 101 South
entrance. There was a car behind me so I couldn't turn around right
away. He tailed me for some time as I curved around and made a left
onto a small country road, finally losing him. The mist was thick and
I could just make out fields of grass and brush on the side. It
reminded me of where I went to college.

I retraced my way back to the 101 and headed home. It was a long
drive and, except for my short pit stop for gas somewhere north of
Ventura, the entire twilight journey was shrouded in fog. I couldn't
see more than a few meters ahead of me as I drove at speeds upward of
80 miles per hour. It was like the world itself, or the wide reel of
my life, was being revealed to me in short spurts on the spot, with an
infinite multitude of the 'beyond' lurking in the mist, sleeping just
beyond the frame.

It occured to me that the places in our life and in our hearts are
like little breaks in the fog, little pockets of clarity in a vast,
thick, all-encompassing mist. When you take a step into the great
beyond, it recedes a little. But just a little. You can't see
everything. It may retreat bit by bit forever as you chase your own
personal unknowns into eternity, but ultimately it's bigger than you
could ever see all of with your own two eyes. That's why we have
license to take whatever chances we want to in life -- because
possibility is genuinely infinite. It all depends on where you want to
go.

But it's also one of the reasons, I think, that human beings crave
friendship, fellowship, love and contact with one another. Imagine two
people looking opposite directions in the fog, searching for their
own way home, and meeting one another, whether briefly or lingeringly,
in some secluded, stumbled-upon pocket in the mist.


Michael

Election Reflection

In the interest of getting organized I've been thumbing through the approximately thousand unread that have accumulated over the past year. I read the ones that interest me, delete the ones that don't, and respond where a response is long overdue.

A whole bundle of the emails are from the Obama campaign, which I donated a small chunk of change to once or twice and volunteered for on the final day of the election cycle, November 3rd of last year. For those of you who don't know my political leanings, they are simply that I am a moderate independent with no strings attached. In 2008 I saw two men I liked well enough to lead the free world and I picked the one I thought was best-equipped and most capable of effecting real, positive change in our country and abroad.

As I systematically wade through the sea of emails from Obama, Biden, and all the King's horses and all the King's men, I find a few worth reading, if only to help mark a moment in history or for value of reminiscence. I just spent the past 20 minutes filling out an Organizing for America survey sent two weeks after Election Day to ask for reflections on my involvement as a volunteer for the campaign (and, likely, to farm my name out for various volunteer "opportunities" in which I have little interest).

At the end of the survey I clicked "send" and got sent to a wonderful "This webpage is not available" page. I guess The Greatest Internet Campaign in the History of the Universe isn't much for technological upkeep. (Who fills these things out a year later, anyway? Don't answer that.)

Since I took the time to fill out the answers on the "short essay" section at the end of the survey, I thought I'd share my responses here.

OPTIONAL: What first inspired you to join this campaign?:

I didn't want to find myself standing idly by on the sidelines during such an important moment in history, so I opted to volunteer at the 11th hour, begging to be given the most valuable responsibility I could. Taking the day off work to canvass in Nevada seemed like the best sacrifice I could make so that's where I spent November 3rd, 2008.

OPTIONAL: What was the best part of your volunteer experience?:

I really loved the experience of driving several hours and giving my day and myself to a cause--interacting with other people from all walks of life, young and old, and being a part of something important, even for such a short time and at the last minute. I found myself a little sad I had not done so before.

OPTIONAL: What could have been improved about your volunteer experience?:

I walked into my local field office two or three days before election day and found the (admittedly busy) staff fairly unenthusiastic about and unresponsive to my earnest desire to volunteer. That was a real disappointment (though it didn't deter me) that I wish could have been avoided.

OPTIONAL: What was your greatest achievement as a volunteer? What was your greatest challenge?:

My greatest achievement as a volunteer was, I hope, perhaps adding votes to Obama's column by knocking on doors and being honest with real people about why I thought he was the best choice for president. The greatest challenge was braving the angry stares and reprimands of folks who didn't want me in their neighborhood, didn't want to be bothered and, most of all, did not want Obama to win.

OPTIONAL: Did you meet a fellow volunteer or field organizer who inspired you? How did they inspire you?:

To the contrary, my canvassing partner was highly inarticulate and seemed fairly ignorant about American politics or even Obama as a candidate. This was no deterrent, but I met a lot of well-meaning people who didn't exactly dazzle. I was very impressed, on the other hand, by the leadership at the Henderson, NV field office where I volunteered; they seemed like bright, passionate young folks who had worked themselves to the bone for the cause. I wish I had had the opportunity to interact with them.

If I Ever Lose My Faith

I've been looking for a new roommate for the past two months. The search has been a real challenge, with very few responses from craigslist and even fewer leads from friends and family. I'm beginning to wonder if perhaps my place, once an oasis of thrift nestled between three gentrified areas, has suddenly become expensive with the current economic downturn. If that's true, then the recession has hit me hard as well, to the turn of over a thousand dollars as I have to pay twice my portion of rent each month.

Every week a few people come by to look at the place. I greet them with a smile and give them the best sense of my personality I can. I'd've thought the place, its location and the roommate speak for themselves, but it's been difficult to find any real takers. I had one fellow genuinely interested, a 28-year-old medical imaging specialist named Darren, but I foolishly strung him along while looking for someone I thought would be a "better fit." No one with a spine waits forever.

Whenever I have a showing I clean up the place as best I can and then turn on Sting's "Ten Summoner's Tales" in my room. I turn the sound on my laptop low and keep the CD playing on random song order and I want potential roommates to get a sense of my musical taste and the vibe I consider ideal for being at home.

Potential roommates have never commented on it either way, but I'm convinced it helps my case. The real problem is when someone I have an appointment with flakes, or calls to say they've just placed a deposit on someplace else and won't be coming by after all. Suddenly the sad songs take on a poignant new meaning (Fields of Gold, Shape of My Heart), the uptempo pieces wax ironic (She's Too Good For Me, Saint Augustine in Hell) and the album's Epilogue ("They still know nothing 'bout me/still know nothing 'bout me...") acquires a strangely defiant tone.

Exercises in Vanity, Part 1

The week after my last post, the Borders over on the Third Street Promenade in Santa Monica announced by email that it, too, would be closing its doors soon. I went in one night, hoping to take advantage of their presumably desperate push to get rid of whatever merchandise remained. Apparently Borders had no trouble attracting like-minded vultures, because the shelves were mostly barren.

At least the store went out with a bang. I waited on the longest line in recent memory to pay for my selections. As I handed the clerk my Borders card I asked him whether he was sad Borders was closing. "Yes," he responded. "Of course. But we're just happy we could serve our customers."

I stopped at another Borders just this morning to pick up--of all things--a book on modeling. I decided yesterday that I may as well give it a try. I'm a reasonably good looking guy--not terribly tall, not tremendously angular, but I've been known to hold a girl's (or a certain type of fellow's) attention from time to time.

That's the theme of the new year: to starting DOING all that I wish I were able to do. That way I won't regret not going for it ten years from now when I finally decide that, all these years, I should've been a model, or an actor, or a nuclear physicist.*

Anyway, the point of this little segment wasn't to inform you of this latest brilliant experiment in vanity I'm embarking on; I simply wanted to note that the Borders on Westwood Blvd. is still open, and I wonder how long before it, too, is forced to close its doors.

Speaking of exercises in vanity, though, have a look at my Vocal Arranging Demo:


Hi! I'm Michael's youtube video! I have no idea why I don't display correctly on his blog, but it may have something to do with Throckmorton's Reflex...

This reel is the first of its kind. I put together a demo CD to hand out at a dreadful choral event I got Shanghaied into presenting at last weekend. The event was a bust (to the tune of over seven hours and about fifty bucks in packets of sheet music, to say nothing of the all-nighter I pulled putting these materials together) but all was not lost: I now have a demo I can be reasonably proud of. I hope it will get me some work, someday, somehow.

Still riding the wave of excitement, I dumped the reel montage into iMovie two nights later and made a little video so I could showcase my stuff on youtube. It may--or, should I say, may it--be the first of many self-marketing ploys. I need all the work I can get.

If you read my blog and are interested in my arranging services--or would simply like to hear my work in higher-res quality--drop me a line.

*Book purchase on nuclear physics still pending...

Borders Closing, 40% off

I can't help but feel sad about the apparent implosion of Borders. Yesterday I got an email on my Blackberry with the subject line "Borders Closing, 40% off Clearance Sale." Oh great, thought I. Borders, long-vaunted in my mind as the place you go to buy books, was going under. Which staples of my capitalist childhood were about to follow suit?

A few minutes later I got another email stating that only one Borders store was closing, way up in Sacramento, and apologizing for the mistake. Somehow, the reassurance-minded disclaimer made the situation seem even more depressing, like a party guest who spends half the evening apologizing for being so awkward and you don't want to go over to the punch bowl anymore even though you're thirsty because J.D. is standing right there and not talking to ANYONE else.

While I was out caroling on battleships and Beverly Hills street corners, an endless barrage of emails arrived from Borders in my inbox this month, each subject line more desperate than the last: "30% Coupon, Plus Huge Holiday Savings"; "40% Off Item of Your Choice"; "Blowout Savings -- Up to 75% Off." To open one of these messages is to plunge headfirst into a lachrymatory of garish backgrounds and big-sale font, to be greeted by excessive DVD box sets no sentient person could ever want, and the plaintive Beanie stare of Chaucer the Bear (now $4.99 after discount!).

I met my technophobic mom for brunch today and afterwards we went for a drive to a nearby animal shelter. "I think Borders is in trouble," she told me, probably citing some Times article or another, "though to be honest, and this might sound kind of strange, I buy a lot of stuff on Amazon nowadays."

Valencia Car Wash Ad and Jingle

It might not be my very best work, but I met a client's needs and deadline. And with this ad now playing almost 2,000 times in the Santa Clarita broadcast area this summer, it ain't my worst work, either. I hope this small victory will spur others.

By the way, if you live in or near Valencia, tune into Fox Sports, Nickelodeon, TLC, The Golf Channel, Travel or Oxygen and you just might see it "live."