...the enduring legacy of Carly Rae Jepsen's 2010s superbop "Call Me Maybe."
In my mid-20s, I worked for a payments startup in San Francisco.
Because part of my job involved product testing, I'd occasionally get tapped for weird side quests—like accompanying the video team on a promotional shoot somewhere in Oakland just in case the latest build went sideways.
The shoot was a half-hour away, so we drove. I am controlling and a classic song ruiner, so naturally, I forced the entire car to listen to Carly Rae Jepsen's early-2010s tour de force "Call Me Maybe" on repeat the whole way there. It was sort of B's and my song at the time, and I simply needed to hear it...all the time.
Two notes:
It's still unclear why I was allowed to DJ the ride—I wasn't driving, I wasn't the oldest, and I definitely didn't have seniority at the company.
To this day, I'm an absolute sucker for a girlie-pop song with strings.
I left the startup a short time later and lost touch with most of those coworkers a couple years after that. Then, yesterday, out of thin air, I got a group text message from Carl, one of the video team guys:
Thought y'all might get a kick out of this... do you guys remember when Corey played this song on repeat when we had that video shoot at that studio in the East Bay? Well now my daughter, Rooney (the one on the right), and her friends are requesting it every time we get in the car.
Accompanying the text was a 39-second video of his daughter and two of her friends absolutely GETTING. FULLY. DOWN. to "Call Me Maybe" in the back seat of Carl's car. I'm talking heads and arms THROWN. ABOUT. to my queen Carly Rae's masterpiece.
Five simultaneous thoughts occurred:
I didn't know Carl had a daughter—or even a partner. (Maybe he single-parent adopted her; I don't know and didn't ask.)
Carl would name his daughter Rooney. God, so Carl.
Entire beings can be formed—and form pristine taste in timeless music (and friends, apparently)—in a single decade. Wild.
Carl and Carly are name sisters.
That song still slaps (smacks? decks?) and will now be on repeat in my home for many consecutive days henceforthward. (Sorry not sorry, B. Actually and sincerely sorry, Ellie. ILYSM.)
I sometimes have a complicated relationship with technology, and work, and the past—but in this instance, all three came together to create an immaculate moment in my life thanks to Carl's exceptionally wise and cool daughter Rooney (god, soooo Carl), her flawless, that-of-a-cultured-but-still-silly-and-fun-gay-man taste in music, and the best, most important song ever made (by humans).
Thanks Carl, and thank you, in perpetuity, CRJ. ILYSM.