Daily Jam - Apocalypse

There was that moment at the end of the ‘90s when it seemed that despite their breakup, the three members of The Fugees were still set up to take over the whole damn world. Lauryn Hill released a commercially successful and critically adored era-defining album, Pras rode the success of his Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton sampling smash hit, and Wyclef Jean debuted strongly with his eclectic hit album The Carnival, the record on which today’s song, “Apocalypse” appeared. But for whatever reason, it didn’t happen. Instead, they all just kind of faded away, fuzzy sounds and images from another time long, long ago.

But that’s not what this entry is about.

Rather, here’s a short anecdote of no consequence from my freshman year of college back when Wyclef was all over the place.

That first year of school at The University of Texas, I lived on the third floor of the Moore-Hill dormitory located on the southern end of the campus along 21st Street. It was a pretty solid location, close enough to the bulk of my classes, next door to the college radio station, a short walk east to the football stadium, and just a quick jaunt west to the main drag on Guadalupe Street where at the time there existed a string of different record stores. I walked the drag probably once a week or more to crate dig for music, spending time in between classes or late afternoons scouring for audio treasures.

One day, early in the fall semester when it’s still appallingly muggy and hot in Central Texas, I left the dorm to venture out towards my favorite record shop, Sound Exchange (RIP), home of Daniel Johnston's "Hi! How Are You" mural. As I walked down 21st, something struck me in the back of the head. I looked over, and a car passed by, its occupant in the passenger side leering out the window at me and shouting, “Booyah!” before speeding away, leaving me in my befuddlement. After the vehicle drove away, I glanced at the ground and realized that what had hit me in the back of the head was a banana. It was a strange incident, but I shrugged it off and went on my way.

And that would have been the end of it, if not for what happened two weeks later. As I was sitting outside the dorm with my roommate smoking cigarettes on the steps, we witnessed the same thing happen to some other poor bastard. Same car. A banana. Booyah.

Anyway, I guess if you’re ever visiting UT in Austin, watch out for dickheads throwing bananas. “Apocalypse” ladies and gentlemen.