Clairvoyant Roommate OR The Day I Outgrew MTV

This afternoon my lovely roommate and I were reclined on the futon watching a bit of the ol' Vh-1 Classic, as is customary for us. We often enjoy taking brief little breaks together to reconnect during the day betwixt our normally stressful schedules.

After a few forgettable videos, a new one hit the screen and suddenly there was a long establishing shot of a dreary and rocky coastline. Before the name of the artist came on the screen, my roommate said, "I hope it's Wilson Phillips!" I laughed, thinking that this was a completely hysterical yet totally unlikely notion. Indeed, it was not Wilson Phillips at all, dear reader, but a ridiculous new-wave balladeer who wanted to be Robert Smith at times but who ultimately ended up looking more like Rick Astley (I attribute this to his high-flying poof of a hairdo--it looked like a squirrel made of steel wool was perched on his head.)

The video was ridiculous. There were women standing on the shore in these strange cheesecloth shrouds that looked like beekeepers' helmets. We were so disturbed by the image that we quickly switched the channel and ended up on MTV-2, the next channel down.

In this video, there was a band of screaming young men dressed in dark button-down shirts getting tangled up in microphone cords and getting hit with pieces of glass being blown at them by a fan in a white room with black arrows painted on the walls. I think this was the concept of the video. There were, however, additional flashes of various animals getting eaten by other animals and then warping (I use the term "warping" generously here--they really just used jump-cuts) into people doing everyday activities. The first time this happened, we saw a lion pouncing on a running gazelle and then a girl was jumping through a sprinkler in the gazelle's place. I hoped that the lion would eat the girl as well, but alas, I was sorely disappointed.

My roommate and I were not familiar with the band. We kept looking at each other, feeling very confused and frustrated. Then suddenly, on the screen, the words "The Elite 8" were printed on the screen. "Oh," I said, "This band must be called The Elite 8." Roommate seemed satisfied with this statement, however, later we would both divulge our confusion regarding the discrepancy between the name of the band and the number of members in it (4.)

So the video ended and all of a sudden on the screen it said that this was a new video from Taking Back Sunday. Yea, that was the actual band. Not "The Elite 8" which was apparently the name of the show that it was on. Roommate and I gave each other high 5s because obviously we're ready to be moms now that we have no idea what the kids are watching on the MTV.

We switched back to our comfort zone on Vh-1 Classic where Julian Lennon was just wrapping up and all of a sudden something miraculous happened:

Again, there was a shot of a rocky coastline in the early evening and all of a sudden the first strains of "Hold On" by Wilson Phillips resonated boldly from the television set. Yes, there they were in all their glory, rolling around on the beach with their breezy beachwear and their matching bowl cuts. And Carnie Wilson before the stomach stapling! It was all there! Roommate and I celebrated to the max.

It was all very "That's So Raven."