“You’re awfully quiet, Y/N. Anything on your mind?” Your uncle’s rough voice broke you from the reverie you hadn’t even realized you’d entered, and you glanced up at him. You’d been sitting silently in the passenger seat of his borrowed car, watching the landscape fly by—a Monet swirl of blues and teals and greens—thinking about how your village only seemed to look beautiful as you were leaving it. It was oddly disconcerting, going from admiring the Impressionistic eddies of scenery whip past, to staring at the grubby, country face of your uncle. It was an earnest, honest face,–true—but nevertheless grubby. Provincial.
“No. Nothing on my mind,” you lied.
Truth is, you’d been lost in your head, partly daydreaming and partly remembering. Imagining possible futures and dwelling on the past. But mostly, you were thinking about how wonderful it was to be driving away from your little village—how you felt like you could finally breathe freely again. Breathe freely away from your home and your childhood bed and all of the friends you’d had since you were in swaddling clothes.
Away from all of the things that suffocated you on a day-to-day basis.
But your uncle was born and bred in the village, and it would probably hurt his pride if you’d admitted to your train of thought. You weren’t supposed to be glad to be leaving.
Leaving like you and Henry had promised you would someday.
Fun fact: did you know that Adele said that Daydream is one of her all-time favorite albums? Someone on Twitter posted a quote from her saying it at a press conference in the past week, and I might have squealed a little. ME TOO, ADELE, ME TOO.
Daydream was a game changer, mostly in that it established the more R&B side of Mariah. She collaborated with Sean Combs (the artist formerly known as Puff Daddy) and Jermaine Dupri for the first time on this record, and began to incorporate more hip hop/R&B elements into her overall sound. Columbia was unsure of how to handle it at first, even expressing reluctance when it came to featuring Ol’ Dirty Bastard on the “Fantasy” remix. Lucky for us, ODB got to stay, and thank God, if only for “Me and Mariah/Go back like babies with pacifiers.”
If you’ve heard the remix, I bet you just read that line and heard it in the same growly delivery. Also: go watch the video now—Dirty’s one of the clowns in it!
All the handwringing that the label had about the change of sound was for naught. “Fantasy” debuted at #1, Slant says it was one of the top songs of the ‘90s and one of the best examples of a sample being transformed “into a fully realized pop masterpiece”, and Ken Tucker from Entertainment Weekly said that the remix was one of the few songs wherein Mariah “defines herself”, even if he gets slut shamey in his album review, commenting on the “brazen hussiness” of her look. But probably the biggest influence “Fantasy” had came with the idea of the pop star/rapper collaboration. Mariah would go on to do a lot of these later (with, among others, Mase, Jay-Z, Mystical, Snoop Dogg, Busta Rhymes, and The-Dream), but so would others. Think about Jennifer Lopez teaming up with LL Cool J, or every single duet/collaboration Ashanti did with Ja Rule. Hell, you can even throw *NSYNC’s “Girlfriend” remix with Nelly in that mix.
To close, a still from Pop-Up Video that has stayed with me for the past twenty years:
“Sherlock, put your experiments away,” you nagged your boyfriend and flat mate, Sherlock Holmes.
“No,” he responded stubbornly.
“It’s only for the weekend. We can’t have Nellie getting into something. John and Mary trusted us enough to watch her.”
“I don’t know why we agreed to, anyway,” Sherlock said as he got up to put them away.
“Because we love John, Mary, and Nellie. Besides we’re her godparents, it’s only natural for them to ask us,” you reasoned, hugging Sherlock from behind and kissing his cheek as a thank you for cleaning up. “You know you fell in love with her the moment you saw her.”
You left him alone for a little while to clean up when the doorbell rang, signifying the Watson’s arrival. “I’ll get it!” you told Sherlock, already excited to see your goddaughter.
John and Mary came trudging up the stairs, arms full of baby things with Nellie in tow. You took a couple of things out of Mary’s hand and set them on the living room floor. You hugged Mary and John, then turned to take your 8 month old goddaughter out of her car seat.
Sherlock came out to listen to John explain her schedule, and then they left leaving us alone with a baby.
“So now what?” I asked Sherlock, holding Nellie close.
“Well, you’re going to stay here and do baby things, and I have a case,” Sherlock said as he grabbed his coat.
“What? No! Sherlock! This is a team effort!” you said as you grabbed the neck of his shirt and pulled him back in the flat.
Sherlock let out a giant sigh to show you how he felt and mumbled, “Fine. What do you want me to do?”
“You could start by making a bottle. You’re going to have to feed her alone tonight. I have to go teach a class.”
“You can’t leave me here alone!” Sherlock protested.
“You wanted to leave me alone.”
“Yeah but that was different. This is my job.”
“Teaching class once a week is my job too. You’re not going to get out of this. Besides, I already know how to do all of this. Now come learn how to heat up a bottle.”
The rest of the day went by pretty easily. You taught Sherlock all he needed to know to be left alone for a couple hours and finally the time came for you to go.
“Alright Sherlock. I’m leaving,” you told him. “Remember what I taught you and you can always try calling. I love you!” you shouted out the door so you wouldn’t have to hear him protest.
Class seemed to move but extremely slow. It still confused you why the university would schedule a class on a Friday night. Eventually it ended and you hurried home ready to see Nellie and Sherlock.
You walked into the flat and saw Sherlock and Nellie asleep on the couch. It was so sweet and you couldn’t miss this opportunity so you took a picture and sent it to John and Mary.
You walked over and sat on the edge of the couch and gently shook Sherlock awake. “Morning Sherlock,” you said as you leaned over to kiss his forehead.
“It’s night time Y/N,” he said as he pulled you to lay down next to him.
You snuggled up to his side and put a hand on Nellie’s back. “Did she give you a hard time?”
“Not at all,” Sherlock said. “I think she likes me.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised you’re great with her.”
“Y/N?” Sherlock asked.
“Do you want to have children?”
“I think so. Why do you ask?”
“I’m just curious. Having Nellie around had shown me that I want to too. I think our children would be geniuses,” he said.
“I don’t care what they’re like as long as I have them with you,” you said leaning up to kiss him again.
Lysander had found what it was as he stood over the dead deer the blood still in his mouth. There was a violent nature in him, one that stemmed from his Grandfather’s roots. The sooner he had come to grips with it the sooner he had felt quite ill. Collapsing under a willow tree he lost all conscious. A day later he awoke, his paw-no hand. HAND! He had a hand his hands! They searched out his features. “Ha!” He laughed and sprang up in the over sized clothes. He laughed merrily as he ran all the way to the Temple. “NELLIE NELLIE! REGINALD! REGINALD! LOOK! Come see! Come see!” He laughed spinning around then pulling Nellie close and kissing her. Something he had longed for. “Where is Reginald?”
In his room Reginald had come to terms with the fact that he couldn’t let his emotion’s remain closed behind a mask, it was ok to feel. To scream if he needed too. He did and as he did the grotesque features melted away to reveal his own as his scream became human and no longer scary but excited! He jumped up and ran to his beloveds and danced them all around. “Look all of us we are free! Free at last!”
“Making small talk along the route, Jack asked Nellie Connally how she would respond if someone booed her husband. “If I get close,” Nelly answered “I’d scratch their eyes out.” Kennedy laughed but kept right on waving. “Mr. President” she said as a car made it hard left turn from Houston Street onto Elm Street, “you certainly can’t say Dallas doesn’t love you.” “No.” he replied “you certainly can’t.”
Sweltering in her wool suit and squinting in the brilliant sun- Jack had asked her not to wear sunglasses so the crowd could see her face- Jackie prayed they would reach their destination soon. Nellie Connally pointed at the overpass ahead. “We’re almost through” she said “The Trade Mart’s beyond that.” “Good” Jackie thought to yourself as she and Jack exchanged a fleeting glance “it will be so cool in that tunnel…”
What happened next was said to be the catalyst for an era of turmoil discord, and bloodshed. Vietnam, campus unrest, the assassinations of Martin Luther King and Robert Kennedy, race riots, the rise of counterculture and a surge in a drug abuse, even the toxic political climate that gave rise to Watergate- all seem to flow from the wellspring of shock and despair that was tapped in Dallas on November 22, 1963
In the end it all came back to the electrifying young couple in the White House that held the world spell down for a thousand days. Was their marriage deeply flawed? Without a doubt. Complicated, even frustratingly so? No question. Infidelity, recklessness, and deceit were part of the imperfect union. But so, too, we’re courage, loyalty, wit, faith, fortitude, and true, abiding affection. After a decade of tragedies triumphs, betrayals and reconciliations the president and his wife were dealt with the most devastating blow any couple could endure- the loss of a child. In that brief period of time between Patrick’s death and Dallas- not quite four months- Jackie and Jack grew closer together than they had ever been. Too late to make up for all the pain that had gone before? Perhaps. But not too late for Jack to fulfill the promise to Jackie he made every time he got up to sing “September Song”