It’s hard to ignore when the universe brings two seemingly incongruous
things and throws them in your path. “Here’s some random crap!” The Universe
bellows. “Do something with it!” It’s how the peanut butter and jelly sandwich
was invented, and it’s how the platypus was born. But sometimes it just clicks.
The fog of ambiguity is lifted, and the future makes perfect sense. Those two
random things perfectly align and forever change your fate. For me, Art, and
Steve, those two things are the love of sasquatches and the desire to crush
N*Sync. Let me explain.
Steve and Art drove over from Birmingham to visit me this weekend, and as
it so often does, the conversation turned to sasquatches. I have long been
fascinated with the legend of the North American wood ape, and have spent many
hours reading through cryptozoology blogs, watching documentaries, and just
generally making sure I have nothing sane to contribute in social situations.
I don’t necessarily believe these sasquatch sightings are
true, but I will concede that there is a part of me that wants them to be true.
I mean, an 11 foot bipedal creature that roams American forests and has not
been proven to kill or maim campers? What’s not to love?
Awwww, it brought you
a gift
So on our way to church Art and Steve, who also like
watching bigfoot documentaries, started talking about the theory that sasquatch
bones are never found in the wild because porcupines eat them (note: this is a real theory poised by some sasquatchologists, and was actually not made up by me. My
own theory is that sasquatch bones are never found because they interbred with
the Highlander centuries ago). I then brought up the also-not-made-up-and-some-people-actually-believe-this-stuff theory that bigfoot are interdimensional creatures, and so could transport out
of our plane of existence upon their death.
The sasquatches’ home
dimension
Steve then said something about ‘quantum sasquatch’, and I
mentioned that Quantum Sasquatch would be an awesome name for a band. We all
laughed heartily as we walked into church, and those who overheard our
conversation clutched their purses a little tighter and hoped we would not sit
by them. It was decided that I would play drums, Steve and Art would play
guitar, and that we would be a Foo Fighters cover band.
Ah, but our aspiration of being a poorly named tribute band
was short-lived, for later that night I stumbled upon this article on Reddit.
It says that N*Sync’s “I'll Never Stop” holds the record for most cassette
singles sold for the past three consecutive years. In 2011 they obtained this
distinction with 11 cassettes sold. Only 11!
We quickly figured out that we, Quantum Sasquatch, could easily outsell N*Sync next year if we bought all our own cassettes, and then we
could yell to women and former bullies, “WE ARE THE HIGHEST SELLING BAND OF
2013!” And then under our breath mumble, “asterisk, footnote, cassette singles."
Finally, we had found our purpose in life. It’s not to
market widgets in a cluttered cubicle all day. It’s not standing in a sterile
lab, pouring liquids from one vial into another vial until science happens.
It’s being the stupidest, loudest, worst mockery of a musical act to ever
technically hold a national record. This is where I should also mention that we
are going to dress up like sasquatches on stage, and instead of singing we are
going to make monkey whoops and bang trees together, the way real sasquatches
communicate.
“The lyrics…*sniff*…they are so beautiful. It’s like
Quantum Sasquatch knows exactly how hard it is to be middle-class, white, and
attractive.”
All that stands in the way of us reaching obsolete fame and
archaic glory is the fact that we need a record deal. Nothing fancy. We don’t
expect to sip bubbly with Bono or swap age-defying tips with Madonna, but we do
need distribution into stores that are affiliated with Soundscan, the music industry’s
official album counter. So, we’re looking for a tiny label willing to press a
limited run of cassettes, maybe around 20, just in case N*Sync sells an unusual
amount this year. And then those cassettes need to be shipped to some remote
truck stop where we will purchase them as Christmas gifts for 20 of our closest
and most polite friends, who will feel obligated to tell us something vaguely nice, like "If this were the 80's, I would totally use this cassette to scare animals out of my garden."
But why stop there? Having the highest selling cassette
single will not be enough. We will embark on a national tour, where we will play
at bigfoot conferences (which are actual things) and be pursued by beautiful
bigfoot groupies (not actual things). And then when the scientific bigfoot
community, after years of careful observation and blissful denial of the
evidence, figures out that we are not actual sasquatches playing melodic
deathmetal they will banish us from their festivals where we will land on
basic cable as a Saturday morning kids' show. The ratings will be great until
one of us gets arrested (probably Art), and then we will languish in obscurity for
a couple of decades until we become retro-hip again.
I have seen my destiny clear as day. And although I haven’t
quite taken the first step down that path yet – I’m waiting for that record
deal to fall in my lap first – I can still dream of the glory days ahead of me.
I can also start Photoshopping our album art while at work.
