2008 Woodie Awards
One love, brother, one love
Leah Ozeroff
Issue date: 3/12/08 Section: Letters to the Editor
I'm all about Arcata. I love what we've got going on here- the feel, the philosophy… the love. Admittedly, I don't venture out terribly often, but when I do, I'm usually excited about it and somewhat proud of myself for socializing at all- let alone for socializing with some of California's finest. Tonight was such a night. Or rather, tonight began as such a night.
To preserve the identity of those involved, I will simply say that the party I excitedly attended was at a house (a house on Spear near Alliance) commonly referred to by its' color, which resembles a pinkish colored fish. Solely out of respect for the tenants, I will not specify what type of fish the house is named after (I will simply say that the particular species belongs to the Salmonidae family).
By the time my friend and I got to this house, the police had already been out there for a noise complaint. Yet, with dedication and determination, the DJ played on. It was a scene out of any college movie, only the bleached-blonde actors had been replaced by Humboldt dread-heads and the frat boys throwing the party were exchanged for long-haired non-frat boys of Arcata. We all danced at a slower pace and with a little less rhythm than in the movies, but that was about it. Everything else of the evening was straight out of any movie… that is, until he fell.
When my friend pulled his hand out from the back of his unconscious brother's head, the blood was real. The pool forming beside the cement step where he hit was not a prop.
Immediately the dancing stopped and a circle began to form around them, yet no one called an ambulance despite our pleas to do so. The urgent yells not to call 911 started the second I was finally handed a cell phone, and never really stopped.
The background sounds were chaotic, but I registered someone's story about when they were drunk and hit their head and it wasn't a big deal. I could hear one of the guys who lived there asking in an angry and accusatory voice about who was calling the police. I said I was and that I needed the address. My request was met with more shouting. After doing my best to explain the location of this fish-colored house to the dispatcher, I assured my friend that the paramedics were on their way. It was at this point that the demands to get him out of there began.
To preserve the identity of those involved, I will simply say that the party I excitedly attended was at a house (a house on Spear near Alliance) commonly referred to by its' color, which resembles a pinkish colored fish. Solely out of respect for the tenants, I will not specify what type of fish the house is named after (I will simply say that the particular species belongs to the Salmonidae family).
By the time my friend and I got to this house, the police had already been out there for a noise complaint. Yet, with dedication and determination, the DJ played on. It was a scene out of any college movie, only the bleached-blonde actors had been replaced by Humboldt dread-heads and the frat boys throwing the party were exchanged for long-haired non-frat boys of Arcata. We all danced at a slower pace and with a little less rhythm than in the movies, but that was about it. Everything else of the evening was straight out of any movie… that is, until he fell.
When my friend pulled his hand out from the back of his unconscious brother's head, the blood was real. The pool forming beside the cement step where he hit was not a prop.
Immediately the dancing stopped and a circle began to form around them, yet no one called an ambulance despite our pleas to do so. The urgent yells not to call 911 started the second I was finally handed a cell phone, and never really stopped.
The background sounds were chaotic, but I registered someone's story about when they were drunk and hit their head and it wasn't a big deal. I could hear one of the guys who lived there asking in an angry and accusatory voice about who was calling the police. I said I was and that I needed the address. My request was met with more shouting. After doing my best to explain the location of this fish-colored house to the dispatcher, I assured my friend that the paramedics were on their way. It was at this point that the demands to get him out of there began.
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