Performer: Smashing Pumpkins
Songwriter: Billy Corgan
Original Release: Machina/The Machines of God
Year: 2000
Definitive Version: None
When Laurie and I went to
Sacramento in 2011, it was the first time I had been to Northern California
since 2000. The previous visit wasn’t even for a full vacation: It was a quick
in and out for a wedding.
The daughter of Debbie’s
best friend in Sacramento, with whom we always stayed when we visited, was
marrying her longtime boyfriend, and of course, we couldn’t miss it. To be
honest, I don’t remember much about the weekend, just a few small shards of
broken memory—the rehearsal dinner, to which we were invited; the ostentatious
reception hall; a particularly attractive friend of the bride’s in high heels.
The thing I remember clearly
about the whole weekend was Alexandra. Alexandra was the 6-year-old daughter of
the bride from a previous relationship. Dad was out of the picture, and,
obviously, mom, grandmom and granddad were otherwise occupied. So Debbie and I
were drafted to look after Alexandra during the redtape part of the
reception—the formal dinner with the wedding party seated at the top table, the
ceremonial dances, the tossing of the bouquet.
It worked out so Alexandra
sat next to me at dinner, and it ended up falling to me to more or less take
care of her. That was OK; she was a good kid. I explained everything that was
going on and cut up her dinner for her and helped her butter her roll.
At one point, she had to go
to the bathroom, which seemed like a natural thing for Debbie to help her with,
except that at that particular moment, Debbie was unavoidably disposed (with
what I can’t remember now). Well, Alexandra couldn’t go alone, so I took her to
the woman’s bathroom, which was on the second floor.
I said I shouldn’t go in, so
I helped Alexandra out of her dress—she had a jumper underneath—and then stood
by the door in case she needed help. Everything went normally, and I helped her
get her dress back on before we headed back to the party.
Inevitably, Alexandra had to
go again at one point, and this time Debbie was available, so she took her to the
bathroom. But apparently Debbie wasn’t as good about straps and hooks and
whatnot as I was—I guess the knowledge I’d gained from undoing those of others
over the years paid off—because Alexandra appeared at the balcony of the second
floor that looked over the reception area and called out: “Will, I need help
with my dress!”
Yeah, Alexandra was my
buddy, and we bonded that trip. Unfortunately, that was the last time I ever
saw her. Fortunately, another little girl would come along a few years after
that who would similarly steal my heart—more on that later.
That also turned out to be
the last trip anywhere that Debbie and I took together. In retrospect, it makes
sense that Smashing Pumpkins’ last album with the original band members came
out at about that same time. The next six months would be a time of lots of
finalities.
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