My first real job was at the Wherehouse. Most people today aren’t familiar with this store, but when I was growing up it was the main place where I bought my music. I remember going there on Tuesdays to get the newest albums as soon as they came out. When I needed a job in college, it was close to home and an obvious choice for me given my love for music and the amount of time I spent in the store anyway. I once locked myself out of my apartment, and I decided to wait – all afternoon – at the Wherehouse for my fiancé to get out of class. I must have been asked if I needed help fifteen times before I finally explained the situation and was left alone, albeit amidst some strange looks.
I did my undergraduate studies at UC Santa Barbara, which had at the time (and perhaps still does; I haven’t checked) the whitest and most affluent student body of all the UCs. It was also adjacent to Isla Vista (or “IV” as it was known by those same super hip kids), where the vast majority of students lived and parties were so insane that they literally closed off the city to outsiders on Halloween. Because shit had gotten so out of hand on these major holidays that they simply couldn’t handle any more madness. Continue reading “All Falls Down”
