Word Count 348
Lindsey had applied at several schools, but she wanted Los Angles. Otis School of Art and design was perfect. The challenge of the classes, the movie industry, the television industry and fantastic weather, she could not have asked for more.
But now, having graduated from Otis, her priority has changed. Her senior design project was a composite of historical theatrical fashion and she learned to appreciate design, not of the future, but of the past. Her application to the New York Fashion Institute had paid off. They liked her work and asked if she would please come to New York for an interview. Four years ago her mother had a fit when she said that she wanted to leave the Midwest and go to Los Angles. Her mother had said, “Well, at least, it isn’t as bad as New York City.” So how was she going to approach this new development when she reached home.
In LA the music included various genres, but in the Midwest there was only country and a little folk to choose from. The new country music was too much like rock-a-billie for her taste. Give me that old-time stuff that my mother knew as a young woman, thought Lindsey. Driving down the highway in her red Chevy Citation; hair blowing from the wind coming through the open widows, she blasted the country music. The announcer introduced the next song. Lindsey thought ‘no matter what he plays, I will know it.’ “Now a flash from the past”, the announcer continues. The tune starts up. “On top of … Lindsey, living in the moment, belts out, “..Spaghetti….” She jerked her head to look at the radio, like it had made a mistake. “Whoa, that’s not right.” Having heard about the meatball so often in her childhood, she forgot that it was a parody of “On top of Old Smokey”. Laughing at her own mistake, she continues on, louder than the radio, “..it rolled out the door…”
Forgetting about her dilemma for the time being, she immersed herself in the warm comfortable feeling of going home.