Comodo with the Homodo

 
Thing Corrin likes #6:

Hudson River Park, Pier 45

Undoubtedly the safest place for a girl to lay out in her bikini on Manhattan Isle.

Sunbathing on Pier 45

Located on the Hudson River off of Christopher Street in West Greenwich Village, the liberal culture of the neighborhood reaches all the way out to the tip of this 850-foot long pier. Built in the spring of 2002, the wood boardwalk, seating areas, shade structures and grass lawn still appear as if brand new. At the foot of the Pier is the Regatta Cafe where you can grab food and drink or board the NYC Water Taxi for a tour around the city. The “interactive water feature” at the end of the pier- basically some standing shower heads that spritz water – is where a majority of the men who prefer men choose to sunbathe and mingle amongst themselves.

It is an understandable assumption that if a young woman were to go to a public park in New York City, and lay on a towel in just her bathing suit, she will get verbally harassed. Even in transit, the bow of your halter bikini sticking out of your top is enough to provoke a male passerby to make an inappropriate comment or gesture. I spent two thirds of my summer not working on my tan in order to avoid this feeling of violation. I have visited New York enough throughout my life to learn that getting cat-called while walking down the street doesn’t necessarily mean I’m “beautiful” or “daaaaaaaaayummm”-worthy… because even if dressed in a burlap sack, just as long as I have a blond ponytail and two X chromosomes, being verbally harassed in the city is an inevitable consequence of being female. Like menstruation.

So over time, I’ve learned that the safest course of action is to respond with a half-smile or just pretend I am deaf. Often this results in a “What? No thank you?!” or “Okay… I get it… Aight, princess” – which I’ve grown accustomed to as well. Yet I always wonder what would happen if I were to stop and engage the random man/group of men. But alas, I refuse to explore this question and would rather leave it up to the people at MadTV. A friend showed me the below MadTv skit on YouTube after discussing this common issue. If you are curious and want a true-to-life experience of what being a female in the city must be like, check it out. The performance is so accurate, I honestly find it uncomfortable to watch. 

 

(SPOILER ALERT!!: Thankfully I can take solace in that “Darrell” is played by a very talented female comedian by the name of Nicole Randall Johnson.) 

God's Gifts

But at the Hudson River Park’s Pier 45, a girl’s worries melt away along with her chap stick. Let me paint a picture for you. My apartment in New York is located a mere 4 blocks from the Hudson River. When my very attractive and petite aforementioned female friend came to visit me one weekend, we wanted to lay out. She was feeling wary of wearing a bikini in the city, given that she is blessed with a large bosom relative to her very small body. Her mother back in Jersey was also not comfortable with the risk of her getting harassed. I assured her safety within the confines of said sanctuary, where her glorious knockers would not garner attention. Within one block of leaving my apartment, she received an enthusiastic “NICE TITS!!!” from an older male, who was regrettably protected within his moving car from my pepper spray and flailing fists. BUT only about 1/8th of a mile later, when comfortably settled on Pier 45, sprawled on our beach blankets in our bikinis… absolutely… nothing… happened. Even after 3 hours. No comments. No awkwardly long stares. No discomfort. Just grass, sun and impeccably groomed men who wouldn’t give us the time of day. GLORIOUS.

 

“Boy, you got some shiny ass shorts! Dayum!”

The Countdown

 
Thing Corrin likes #5: Being 21 years old in 27 days

It’s not about the drinking anymore. 

Yes, I’ve had my desperate moments. I can’t deny my estrogen fueled desires to sip on a cold glass of Pino Grigio, watch an episode of Sex & the City and have a personal pity party. Or value the safety of bumming my own flask of rum or tequila to an open house instead of settling for the Gordon’s Vodka and Fruit Punch Gatorade combo (which has a 100% beverage back guarantee when consumed by yours truly… if you know what I’m sayin’).  Finding an “of-age” buyer willing to sacrifice their time and criminal record is not as easy as you might think.

It’s about anxiety-free nights. It’s about options. It’s about inclusion. It’s about dignity. It’s about freedom. It’s about life, liberty and the pursuit of awesomeness.

The Graveyard Weekend 7/24

Fortunately for me, I am one of the lucky ones. My birthday falls right on the dividing line between my high school’s classes of 2005 and 2006. My family moved when I was in 3rd grade, and it was my mother’s decision to make me either one of the youngest or oldest members of my class at my new school. Drawing upon her experience as one of the younger kids, my mother chose to give me that “extra year of childhood”. I resented this decision because back in 3rd grade the only thing that being older meant was that you were probably held back because you were “stoooooopid” (as I stick my tongue out and give myself wagging moose ears with my little 3rd grade hands). Little did I know back then, but being older really meant two things: 1) Being one of the first kids to get their drivers license and 2) Being one of the first kids to turn 21.

When I finally realized the implications of these advantages, I began structuring my life around them. Instead of taking the after school driving classes with my friends in the spring of 2004, I completed my 48 training hours between the summer and fall of 2003. At the strike of my 16.5th birthday, I was driving my dad’s ‘92 Acura to school and parking alongside the upperclassmen without a parking sticker.   

Following that progressive step in my life, which didn’t even occur on my actual birth day, every 27th of August was a step closer to the summer of 2008.  Growing anticipation and resigned bitterness marked the awkward week my birthday always fell on. In high school, the last week of August was a time when kids were either spending a last weekend at their summer getaway or preseason training for sports. College has been even worse, with a combination of friends being out-of-state and people leaving their summer sublets in Boston for a final week at home before fall classes start. The last large celebration on my real birth date was a surprise 16th birthday dinner at Fire & Ice, organized by some of my dearest friends, many of whom were at soccer preseason with me that morning.

When applying to colleges, I always knew I wanted to go to a city school. My parents wanted to do a thorough shake down of any possible options, some of which included suburban to completely rural campuses (a.k.a. University of Richmond and Lafayette College, respectively). Whenever I would toy with the idea of the traditional college setting, I quickly caught myself, remembering the two complete years of 21 year-oldness I would have in college. “If you’re going to have that ability for 2 whole years,” I would remind myself “there is no doubt you will get cabin fever and go insane.” I had to go to a city school… for my health.

Self Pity

At a point during your mid-sophomore year at BU, the bright-eyed, bushy tailed, house party hopping person you were freshman year begins to wane. The mass text pursuits, crowded basements and limited supplies of liquor become more daunting than exciting. You yearn for a straight line, air conditioning and a variety of available drinks. You yearn for a bar. This is when most students begin investing in a fake ID or inherit one from a sibling or look-a-like friend or acquaintance. This avenue into bars seems reasonable for the 19 and newly 20-year olds, but since my 21st was so soon, it didn’t seem economical for me. Fake IDs are expensive… they can get taken away at anytime… and there’s no preventing a lost fake during one of those fateful late nights. I followed a few “look-alike” leads, but nothing came of them. The only times I could show my face at a bar or club was if I either borrowed an ID or knew someone, who knew someone at the door. And it never really bothered me. “I’ll have more than enough time to go to bars,” I’d keep telling myself.

But once my junior friends started turning 21, and more and more sophomores started getting fake IDs, the mass texts didn’t seem to help. I was abandoned.

“COME TO J.TREE!” one text would respond…

“Grabbin’ drinks at the Otherside… join us!” another would come in.

This summer in NYC hasn’t been any easier. “Oh New York is SO easy… PLUS you’re a girl, you have no worries,” people would assure me. B-S. Granted I was given a blatantly fake ID by a good friend, it only works at the bars where I am definitely one of the older people there. But, I’m a girl? Cute, yes. But well endowed? No. Throughout this muggy intern summer in New York, I have been no stranger to getting turned away and experiencing the occasional confiscation and subsequent beg and plead to the bouncer to return my ID to me. Easy, New York City is not.

Backwards fake ID

 

But on August 27th, 2008 – all will be right in the world. Reaching this rite of passage only 11 days before the semester starts, I will have 2 full years of legal alcohol possession and nightlife without boundaries as an undergraduate in Boston.

Stress-less nights. Options. Inclusion. Dignity. Freedom. Life, liberty and awesomeness.***

__________________________________________________________________________

***(meaning “drunkenness”, derived from the phrase “to get awesome” meaning “to get drunk”. This term was recently introduced into my life and gaining popularity thanks to the verbal antics of Regina Carlo @ http://mcgynstein.wordpress.com/ and Renee Pyles).

My Pop Life

Things Corrin Likes in Current Media

 
Brad Pitt + Shiloh = Le Beau Monde

Brad & Shiloh

If you haven’t been living under a rock, you have heard that Angelina has given birth to Brad Pitt’s girl/boy twinset. Yet I’m not a fan of Angelina Jolie. Perhaps I resent her for being beautiful, talented, philanthropic, stealing Brad away from Jen (yah, their marriage was conveniently falling apart while he was playing Angelina’s husband in a movie?…sure) and hopelessly bound to Brad Pitt by way of SIX CHILDREN. I also have this nagging suspicion that in the back of Brad’s mind he wanted to create the most beautiful children in the world. He was well aware that joining his golden gametes together with Angelina’s, even more so than Jen’s, would create the platinum gene pool. And this success is seen in Shiloh Jolie-Pitt. We won’t have an idea of what the twins really  look like for a while, but I don’t think they will hold a candle to Daddy’s Little Girl. And whenever she breaks away from the multicultural gang and is photographed with Brad… I feel the same warm happiness I feel when I look a litter of puppies.

 

“Pineapple Express” television spot

Seth Rogen being amazing as always. Drug references. M.I.A’s “Paper Planes”. Craig Robinson (Darryl from “The Office” and the bouncer from “Knocked Up”) being hilarious. Seth Rogen looking like the flying squirrel at 0:21 seconds. Gary Cole cameo even though I only recognize him as Lumbergh from “Office Space”, which always gives me a tickle. Realizing how good looking James Franco is despite playing a greasy stoner. When the guy says “Thug liiiife ((click click))” at 0:19 seconds. Even if it’s another Judd Apatow hit-and-miss… he’s managed to put together a collection of things I like, and air them all together in one 0:33 teaser trailer. Mazel Tov.

 

New Season of “Entourage” Promos

In typical Corrin fashion, I’ve joined the legion of “Entourage” fans a heaping five seasons into the series. Maybe it’s because I don’t have HBO or I don’t religiously watch T.V., but I had usually found myself only watching Entourage on those late nights at someone else’s house, when I wasn’t of sound mind or body. Thankfully, I have HBO OnDemand in my New York apartment this summer, and I’ve had the good fortune of catching up. As you have known/heard/suffered, the show is addictive. For no specific reason other than… it’s just cool. The dialogue isn’t hilarious or clever, the plot doesn’t keep me at the edge of my seat and neither Adrian Grenier nor Kevin Connolly are particularly convincing actors. But still, at the end of each episode, all I think is “Hah, bad ass.” And to reiterate my point, the teaser promos for the NEW season of Entourage are the epitome of bad ass. And seeing that two out of three things in this post are “trailers”, I’m convinced that there must be an art to making a bad ass trailer than just careful editing. And I want to learn how to do it. Like Cameron Diaz’s character in “The Holiday”. Live in a sweet house in L.A. and have trysts with hot Jude Law-looking widowers. Make movie trailers for a living. Check it out.

One Chuck Two Chuck, Red Chuck Blue Chuck

 

Thing Corrin likes #4: Chuck Taylor All-Star Sneakers

Fab-shoe-lous

I L-O-V-E my Chuck Taylor’s. Especially the new gold leather high tops I recently purchased for an embarrassing amount of money. They are F-A-B-U-L-O-U-S.

Although historically considered a ”punk” fashion shoe, the longevity and diversity of Converse’s Chuck Taylor sneaker has broken its way into many traditional style wardrobes. Depending on your own personal style, there is a Chuck for you. I find most people on the modest/preppy side of fashion wear the optical white or unbleached white (a light yellowish color) Chuck lows. My first pair of Chucks were unbleached whites, purchased during my stint as a “brand representative/model” at Abercrombie and Fitch… coincidentally it was also when A&F first began stocking the now popular “skinny  jean”. I remember being perplexed at what I recognized as “punk” fashion growing up was now to be considered attractive and fashionable, nevertheless sold in a store like Abercrombie. Once at Boston University I bought grey Chuck lows (I was too intimidated by the black Converse.) This summer in Manhattan, I made my own personal statement with the purchase of my hi top gold LEAAATHAAAAS (a.k.a. leathers, but elongated into ”leaaathaaas” according to myself and my girl crush Chantal). I still don’t know how I feel about patterns, but given my Converse history, there is no way of knowing what’s in store for me in my Converse future.

Which brings me to ask myself a few questions. Why did I disassociate myself with Converse in the past, then grow to love them? Why did I smirk as I folded the first shipment of skinny jeans at Abercrombie, then 2 years later own 5 pair?

I could only attribute it to one thing: the plight of growing up in suburbia.

I went to a small high school 15 minutes outside of Boston, and during my four years there I noticed that the student body had adopted a type of “unofficial uniform” (specifically for girls). Seven flare jeans, a Lacoste polo or Michael Stars t-shirt, Uggs and a North Face fleece jacket. I was so entrenched in the set fashion parameters of my small town, I was quick to judge anything different. There were people who attempted trendiness outside of those guidelines, but ended up looking ridiculous among the masses of blue, black and tan. I envied those who were able to break that mold, despite our uniformity, and look great… but I still couldn’t imagine myself pulling it off.

The Leather Jacket Evolution

When I was 13 my mother tried to give me a sheik brown Italian leather jacket with two breast pockets, pleating at the hips and an angular collar. I rejected it, then asked for it momentarily when I needed to use it for my Buffy the Vampire Slayer costume. It is now a staple in my wardrobe.

When I was 15 my mother tried to give me two cotton Indian tunic t-shirts, one white and one blue, dating back to when she was in her late 20s. They have short, ruffled flowing sleeves, a seam below the bust and embroidered flowers bordering the neckline. I tried them on, decided I looked like Little Miss. Moffat, and gave them back. Fast forward to the summer of 2008, when walking by LF in Wellesley center, I saw a shirt identical to Miss Mommy Moffat’s displayed on the mannequin. That night I recovered the tops from our storage racks in the basement and they’re hanging in my closet waiting to be worn.

Sense a pattern?

Then when I became a freshman at Boston University, I suffered fashion shock. Over my first few months on campus, my A&F tank tops and J.Crew khaki shorts drifted to the back of my drawers and my newly purchased J. Brand jeans, American Apparel t-shirts and BCBG cowboy boots were sprawled on the floor waiting to be worn again. 

First Semester @ BU: First Weekend to Last Weekend

Despite “scene” fashion being most prevalent at BU (see: “How to be a Scene Kid @ http://www.wikihow.com/Be-a-Scene-Kid), truly, anything goes. From staying safely behind, to keeping up with, to trying to one up the popular fashion trends (note: success has been limited), my life as a lemming at Podunk High School Massachusetts is long behind me. And good riddance.

Mary Kate @ NYU... yet oh so BU

 

 

p.s. I wore a red and black polka dotted fluffy sleeved t-shirt, skinny jeans and Sperry topsiders to work today. I braided the front of my hair and twisted the rest of it into sailor moon buns on either side of my head. Case in point.

… and now for something completely different.

Disclaimer: If any of this commentary is offensive or hypocritical, feel free to leave a comment. Feedback is always welcomed.

Okay, I know it’s pathetic that I could only last about… 48 hours of my quest to only share my optimism with the masses… but I really need to take a brief hiatus and let you guys know something very important.

FACEBOOK STATUSES ARE AWKWARD.

I do not like them.

Yes, I will admit I went through a short phase where I would update mine every 4 to 8 hours… but I strictly kept them to witty quotes, funny lyrics or popular movie references. For example:

“Corrin is Jack’s smirking revenge.” (“Fight Club” reference)                       

or

“Corrin is just a doorman… doorman…. DOORMAN!” (“Knocked Up” quote)

or

“Corrin is sparta.” (“300″ reference.)

I would say the most narcissistic and moderately shameless personal plug I’ve put in my facebook status was a link to this video of me being interviewed about BU by the beautiful people at College Click TV in Sept. 2007:

But now I realize, people have just been raping the novelty of the facebook status.

I will excuse the following types of status:

General Information: “George is tired”, “Timothy is going to the gym” or “Candice is going to Europe for the week”.

Acceptable Self-Promotion: “Corrin is http://cocoshameless.wordpress.com/” (but really, CLICK THAT SHIT) or “David will be performing at Jake Ivory’s on Landsdowne St. from 9PM-2AM! Come and bring your friends!” (seriously…check it out!)

In my opinion, there are four levels of status awkwardness you can achieve.

Level One: “Suzie is sad to leave summer camp, but SO excited to see her dog Fluffy and then go to the beach and hang out at the mall and then go back to school in 15 days!!”

TMI. Too much information. Although I would prefer a simple “Suzie is excited” (NEVER ”Suzie is sad” - that is emo and a plead for sympathy or inquiry – shame on Suzie), ”Suzie is sad to leave summer camp” would be acceptable. KISS. Keep it simple… silly.

Level Two: “Bob is exhausted, but it was totally worth it.”

This is just all wrong. “It”  is the object in the sentence, and without knowing what ”it” was, the sentence is incorrect and there is no purpose to the status whatsoever. Leaving us to wonder what “it” was does not make Bob look mysterious. It makes Bob look like a douchebag trying to making himself look mysterious via facebook status. FAIL. If Bob is in fact, the man, and he is exhausted from having a threesome with his two hot Spanish language tutors, then he should write “Bob is exhausted from having a threesome with Maria and Valentina, but it was totally worth it.” Then TMI is excused due to high levels of bad-assness.

Level Three: “Beatrice is wishing YOU were here…”

This is virtual PDA. Also slightly emo. Beatrice could go down maybe half a level of awkwardness if she included the name of the person she misses, but the PDA/emo overtones are still an offense. Also, if the “you” Beartrice wishes were with her isn’t fully aware that they are the “you” she is referring to – Beatrice is just a huge creeper.

Level Four: “Linda believes they can take anything from me but they can’t succeed in taking my inner peace, they can say all they wanna say about me but I’m gonna carry on!”

In this case, my fictional ‘Linda’ has achieved the highest level of awkwardness a facebook status can reach. These kind of bold proclamations can either be an original phrase, or a quote (in this case Linda uses an excerpt from Christina Aguilera’s “Keep On Singing My Song”.) Good for Linda if she is suddenly feels this surge of empowerment and confidence in herself. But unfortunately, announcing this on facebook either means that a) someone “took her inner peace” and she wants them to know that she is “carrying on” OR b) someone “took her inner peace” and she is having a rough time with it, but wants them to think that she is okay… 99.9% of the time it is the latter… and all her facebook friends know it.

In addition, many people are careless with this kind of quote and forget to change the “take anything away from me” to “take anything away from her“, seeing that “Linda” instead of “I” is the subject of the status. That deserves a nice hearty FAIL and a swift kick in the bum.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hope you’ve all learned something from this post. Whether it be “Corrin’s a flaming bitch,” or “Wow, I never realized how much of a tool my facebook status makes me look,” I enjoyed sharing my perspective with you. Now that I think about it… posts like this might be popping up more often than originally anticipated. Sometimes bitching can be entertaining… and cathartic.

“I love caper films.”

Thing Corrin likes #3: Steven Soderbergh films

After seeing a few Steven Soderbergh films, I enjoyed them for the exact same reasons, then awkwardly realized they were all directed by the same person. 

Top Three Reasons:

1) Visually Beautiful

Soderbergh has been quoted saying, “Making a film that’s supposed to be fun to watch is really hard – that’s the weird irony of it.” 

I could watch a Steven Soderbergh film on mute and the cinematography alone keeps me entertained. The manipulation of color saturation, temperature and contrast of images on film contribute to the feelings the movie is supposed to evoke. The “Ocean’s” movies are highly saturated, making the colors very bright and giving an orangey/red hue to all the characters. The colors in “Out of Sight” have a low temperature, where everything takes on a greyish/blue tinge. The images in “Traffic” have dark contrasts and a lack of bright color that gives the movie it’s documentary-like style and doesn’t draw your attention away from it’s more serious subject matter.

 

2) Subject Matter

As my ex-boyfriend Dane Cook (not really) always says, “Any guy here, more than sex, if they had the choice of sex or this one other thing… any guy here would rather be part of a heist!”

This isn’t only true for guys. The “Ocean’s” movies epitomizes the glamorous, Rat Pack-esque heist I would ideally want to play a role in. In both the “Ocean’s” movies and “Out of Sight”, the criminals and law enforcement maintain mutual levels of respect for one another and maintain a kind of camaraderie, which I can only describe as… sexy. I guess that word came to me seeing that the criminals and law enforcement often end up… having… sexual intercourse… with… each other. In the scene from Oscar-nominated “Out of Sight” shown above, George Clooney and Jennifer Lopez act out one of the classiest sex scenes I’ve seen… maybe… ever.

S-E-X

3) Casting

 

Summarized in two words.

Bradley.

Pitt.

HOK A CHAINIK

This is the first entry of my first blog. I feel this might be one of many (both blogs, and entries). I will openly admit that the blog bandwagon has been chugging along for quite some time, so the fact that I’m starting one now is completely uninnovative and borderline repetitive. Since “blogging” is becoming more popular, I believe the most successful blogs have a specific purpose. As much as I’d like to harness my natural inclination to judge everyone and everything around me, I feel as though that blog would quickly morph itself into the typical “bitch and moan” blog. When a blog suffers the symptoms of the “bitch and moan”, creative intentions turn themselves into a series of unoriginal insights about what everyone already knows, and doesn’t care to read about again.

That being said… I lack a purpose. As much as I’d like to publicly sort through the many cynical, witty and borderline offensive observations I make about the world on a daily basis, I see them treading on the fine line that lies between entertaining and the “bitch and moan” syndrome.

So with the inspiration of the popular blog, “Stuff White People Like” (http://stuffwhitepeoplelike.com/), I will begin with stuff Corrin likes. People develop a fondness for things for interesting reasons, usually best described by a story or experience. Hopefully this simple- and more importantly, optimistic- concept will develop into something valid.

 

Thing Corrin likes #1: CHUTZPAH

chutz·pa [khoot-spuh, hoot-] 

noun Slang.      

1. Unmitigated effrontery or impudence; gall.

2. Audacity; nerve. 

This summer I am working as a production librarian for MTV Networks. As much as I’d like to go into the many tasks involved in this job, I will spare you. All I can say is that before, during and most likely after I complete my 10 week love affair with beta, digibeta and Alias Database… this is not the career I will be pursuing post-grad. I have worked at three other MTVN libraries scattered throughout the city, but my default location is the mother ship building at 1515 Broadway in Times Square. During these days, I have the misfortune of weaving and elbowing my way through business-people, tourists, solicitors, homeless and the naked cowboy whenever I travel between the subway and the building. Within my first week at MTVN, Times Square reinvented itself from a famous New Years Eve destination and/or where my family stops to buy theater tickets to the most aggravating three blocks I have to travel during my work day.

But I digress…

My first week at 1515, I spent my lunch hours in the company cafeteria known as “The Lodge”. The Lodge closely resembles the typical collegiate cafeteria, combined with an outdoor patio for sitting with a view overlooking the heart of Times Square. One afternoon, shortly after selecting a table against the window, I am promptly joined by a teenage Asian boy who opens with:

“So, what is in this building exactly?”

I sit there for a few moments… brow furrowed, not quite sure how to respond.

He continues with, “Is BET in here or something?” 

My confusion was born from the fact that the Times Square Viacom building is heavily secured, as any major media office building would be. You need a company I.D. or an official visitors pass to enter the building, where then you need to swipe an I.D. in order to enter most floors. This boy explains that he is from Washington, visiting his older sister who lives in midtown East. In an effort to thoroughly explore New York City, he recognized 1515 as the MTV building. Unable to coax his touring partner to enter with him, he comes into the building, enters through the security turnstile unnoticed despite the alarm sounds and moseys his way up to the cafeteria (fortunately one of the few floors you can explore without an I.D. swipe). 

After hearing this story, I was impressed by his chutzpah. I recall the millions of times my mother (appropriately a Jewish mother) would suggest the exact, unconventional course of action this boy took. She is a firm believer in having the chutzpah to risk breaking and entering  in order make the necessary social connections, geared towards ones success in any industry. The idea that this kid Indiana Jones’ed himself into MTV Networks headquarters, simply out of curiosity, was admirable.

Cheers for chutzpah. And the mockery of Asian tourism.

Infectious Techno

Thing Corrin likes #2: “Call On Me”

For anyone who has spent over 24 hours (total) with me, will inevitably learn that my self-designated theme song is “Call On Me” by house DJ Eric Prydz. The entirety of the song is a looped sample from Steve Winwood’s 1982 “Valerie,” where Winwood collaborated with Prydz by re-recording the lines “call on me…. I’m the same boy I used to be… call on me,” over and over… and over again.

The song was released in 2004, but made it’s first appearance in my life circa 2006 and has stuck with me ever since (most recently via cellphone ring tone… how appropriate). The song starts out with an the bass beat, then builds up with a slow crescendo of many “call on me’s” into a magnificent climax of bass, beat, strings and vocals. I can’t get enough. The song combines my love for a thumping bass, melodic chord progression and half muffled vocals… completing”Call On Me” ’s trifecta of musical-technoey-housey joyful deliciousness.

But for anyone who can’t enjoy the song as purely as I do, it provides impure pleasures as well. The music video for this techno hit was directed by Huse Monfaradi, and it features a titillating dance sequence performed by smokin’ hot biddies in 1980s aerobic gear (all items made available for purchase at your local American Apparel (http://www.americanapparel.net/). 

So what else is there to say? With “Call On Me”, there’s something for everyone to enjoy.