SHORT:
There is a song that they play in supermarkets a lot. It’s called “Friday I’m In Love” by The Cure.
The lyrics go:
I don't care if Monday's black
Tuesday, Wednesday, heart attack
Thursday, never looking back
It's Friday, I'm in love.
I think they should care about the heart attack on Tuesday and Wednesday.
They will most likely not get to Thursday or Friday if they have back-to-back heart attacks on Tuesday and Wednesday.
Love conquers all, but not cardiac arrest.
MEDIUM:
When I was in college, people called me “Poop” because my last name was Pope and “Poop” and “Pope” sound similar (it was actually coined by my friend Sarah when I had explosive diarrhea during a mandatory Media Studies screening of Modern Times, but most people who call me by the name do not know that story).
While friends of all sorts called me by the gorgeous nickname, “Poop” was first and foremost my name at diving practice. When I was up on the diving board, my coaches and teammates would scream “go Poop!”
I’d steady myself on the thin fiberglass plank, smile, and fling myself into the air… landing in the pool with a plop. When I emerged from the water, more “way to go, Poop!”s would ring out through the aquatic center.
This is a long way of saying that I spent four years of college as a flying piece of shit ❤️
LONG:
Tomorrow I am going to the San Francisco Airport. There is a smoothie place that I adore in the international terminal. I will most likely purchase a smoothie from this place tomorrow.
The only thing that I hate about the smoothie is that it is called “The Boom Sha Boom”. This means I have to look a kind, hardworking American in the eyes and say “can I please have The Boom Sha Boom”. One time I tried to just say “the peanut butter smoothie” and the woman working at the kiosk said “which one” and I sighed, and said “The Boom Sha Boom” (a.k.a the only peanut butter one). I think she just wanted to hear me say it.
I don’t really know what “Boom Sha Boom” means, but it feels like an accurate way to describe what coming home to California feels like.
The last time I came home, my grandfather (who has a license to practice medicine) put salsa on his cream cheese bagel because we did not have any tomatoes left in the house. This time we had plenty of tomatoes, but no grandfather (he’s still alive, he just couldn’t come because of COVID). Boom Sha Boom.
My childhood home is located two doors down from where Steve Jobs invented the computer. Tourists drive by and take photos of the famous garage. Steve’s stepmother actually informed us that he invented the computer in a shed behind the house and NOT in the main garage, but we just let the tourists take photos of it. Sometimes the truth is far less glamorous than the lore.
When I was a teenager, I invented something amazing in my garage as well (crying just loud enough to let out all my frustration, but not so loud that the neighbors could hear me).
I hope to get rich from this one day just like Steve. People can come and take pictures of the garage as my dad tells them to stay off the grass.
The biggest Boom Sha Boom (yeah, I’m using it this way now) to happen to our neighborhood was in 2012, when Ashton Kutcher came to film the Steve Jobs movie.
Teenage girls flocked from far and wide to try and catch a glimpse of the Kutchthrob. They had to barricade-off our street because of the crowds. My neighbor Kayla and I felt VERY cool because we had special badges that allowed us to strut by the hoards of teenage girls and… go down our street… to subsequently enter our homes. We would shout “we live here!” so everyone knew.
Kayla has been my best friend since I was five years old. She lives across the street from me in CA and 20 mins away in NYC. One time I was taking a standardized test to get into Catholic High School and, right before the test started, she stood up and told the whole room that I was Jewish. I have since forgiven her. Plus, I wasn’t that scared. There was another Jew in the room with me: Jesus.
Back to 2012.
The week of the great Kutch parade, Kayla and I were determined to meet Ashton. Unfortunately, we had been told that Ashton would Boom Sha Boom us if we came too close to him.
A P.A. stood in our driveway and yelled “If he comes NEAR you, don’t talk to him, don’t look at him, don’t bother him!” But surely she didn’t mean WE had to abide by these rules. We had badges. We LIVED on the street. We were KAYLA and MEGAN (Catholic and Jewish respectively!). We were going to meet him.
On day two of the shoot, we came close. We were sneaking food from the crafty table when a tall, dark, Ashton-looking actor strolled up. He walked like Ashton. He talked like Ashton. He was handsome like Ashton. But something was off…
It was Ashton’s body double. We became obsessed with him (Kayla, because he was a hot piece of ass. And me? Lord knows why). We followed him on Instagram. Talked about his glamorous Hollywood life as a stand-in.
We even made him walk by the barricade of screaming girls at a distance where they would think he was Ashton (and go wild).
Boom.
Sha.
Boom.
Also, does anyone hear “hot piece of ass” and think of someone taking a pizza cutter to a butt? Like the butt is a pizza and you want a hot piece?
Just me? Alright. Moving on.
On day 3, something incredible happened.
Before I dive in, everyone needs to know that my brother was born with a bowler hat on. He has been spiritually 80 years old since birth, and speaks like he is from the 20s.
One time we went to New York as a family when he was nine, and we piled in a taxi to avoid the snow, and he said, to the taxi driver, “Boy, it hasn’t been this cold around here in ages”. Again, he was nine. And had never had been to New York.
Ok. Back to Day 3.
My family and I were getting ready to go on a hike. I, of course, did not want to go because I worried that I’d potentially miss a chance to schmooze with A-man.
But my mom was adamant. To this day she calls family hikes “forced marches” (something that Jews are all too familiar with…).
Anyway, my brother, being the gentleman that he is, was the first out the door.
My sister and I begrudgingly exited the house a few moments later.
We started getting into the car, and then we saw it:
11-year-old Seth Clark Pope shaking hands with real-life not body double ASHTON BOOM SHA BOOM KUTCHER!
We stared in awe and fear (again remember, we were instructed not to talk/look/bother) as my brother said, “Hi Mr. Kutcher, my name is Seth Pope. Welcome to the neighborhood.”
Insane.
INSANE.
More insane than my grandfather putting salsa on a bagel.
Anyway, that’s the neighborhood.
Some great memories here on the block.
I am ready to get back to New York though.
I miss reading the subway ads and then getting bored and switching cars to read different subway ads.
We did get a photo with Ashton a few days later by the way.
It was no “Welcome To The Neighborhood” handshake, but it was exciting.
Boom Sha Boom (had to add one more for good measure).
Did you enjoy this? Did you hate this? Did you already know the Modern Times story? Humiliating, right? Respond with thoughts and suggestions for future newsletters. Can’t believe we’ve made it 10 weeks!
-Meg
Social- @megspope@mpopetweets
Venmo- @mpope-venmo-26
Website- meganpopework.com
Donate to The Audre Lorde Project
BONUS:
Here is me, Kayla, and Co. with Ashton Boom Sha Boom Kutcher (I blocked out my face because this is pre-transition and I can’t bear to see teen Megan, but you gotta trust that it’s me. Look at that clenched fist).
Me and my siblings with Ashton II. Hope he’s doing well.
