~Meniscus Archives~

Spring 2004
Issue #3

February - April 2004

Sex, Not Just for Teenagers
Mr. Ruggles

Like No Other Time, by Tom Daschle
A review
by Kristi Spurrier

Maintaining Spirituality in the Void We Call America
Mr. Ruggles
Libra Seeking Balance
Melissa Bator
What 2004 Means to Me
The Tonic
Bush's Capitalism: 21st Century Entropy
Jon Heinrich
Don't Think Twice,
It's Alright

Mike Kirkpatrick
Cows in the Road
Dan Berthiaume
Love, at 100
Pete Pidgeon
Summer's Freckles
Wes Ratko
Not a Love Story
Sarah Erdreich
Miami New Years
Team Meniscus
Tuckerman Ravine
Jon Heinrich
The New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival: Ten tips for a successful Jazzfest
Chrystie Hopkins
Meniscus New Years Picks
Bootyjuice is a Band
Derek Gumuchian
One Double Grande Instrumental, Please (Hold the Flavored Syrup):
A Review of
Self-Titled Debut

Brian Gagné
Show Review:
Vida Blue, 1/3/04
Jackie Gleason Theatre, Miami, FL

Jon Heinrich
CD Review:
Spaceship Integration
Live From Nowhere

CD Review:
The Recipe
All You Can Eat
Love Is...
-Ryan Collins
Traded for Monkeys,
Livid [In Tall Grass]
What a Calamity!

-Brian Gagné
Meniscus Premier Launch Party
Zeitgeist Gallery
Cambridge, Massachusetts
August 14, 2003

Metro Saturdays hosts
Meniscus Portland Launch
Sky Bar @ The Roxy
Portland, Maine
August 30, 2003

State of the Art
Lounge Ten
Boston, Massachussets
October 23, 2003


Love at 100


Pete Pidgeon


Published 2/14/04


Upon meeting her, he convinced himself that she was “the one.” Overdoses of flowers and coy talk, cute names opening every email, excessive inflections and overly sincere allusions to love without actually using the word. Even though in fact he was sincere, the means of conveying those feelings and thoughts are probably understood about 100 years down the line.

By then, you can clearly navigate through any occasion of lust, love, attraction, or liking that comes your way. At 100 years, you can walk up to any lady who strikes your fancy and kiss her mouth as if she’s been your wife for 80 of them and she will accept you because you’ve learned how to act, how to react, and most importantly, construe what your true feelings are and shed all that is confusion. You will possess the ability to separate heart from head and learn how to make them work together as partners on the same team instead of trying to conquer the body in which they both reside.

At 100 you can smile at her from across the room and know exactly how long to maintain eye contact before looking away so that you can obtain that perfect amount of intrigue before coming off as sketchy. You will know just how to leave your lover at the door—precisely how long your kiss should last and whether or not you should look back as you go. And you will definitely know unquestionably when you should and should not call her during the awkward initial phases of the relationship. You will somehow know what she is thinking at all times and know the perfect words to say in any situation. Say she’s looking sad. Well, you will possess the knowledge that she’s not sad at all—she has a slight allergy to your sweater and she is tearing as a result. You will know at that very second not to tell her how you can’t get it up any more, assuming like an ass that must be the reason that she is feeling low, and instead offer to change your sweater. She will grin in amazement to your intuitive nature and marry you on the spot.

At 100, dating will last five minutes. There are certain things that must first be established. What is your name? What is you number? Where do you live? Do you like strawberry or grape jam? Do you mind that I have some back hair? Do you mind that I was born last century…? This all takes about five minutes. At 100, you will have derived the absolutely ideal words to recite that will make her melt in your hands. You will have been through so many different situations that you will be able to adapt yourself so that no matter what combination of words she retorts, you’ll be able to turn them into gold and hand them back to her as a ring for her finger. Love will be yours and the two of you will rejoice in joyous harmony… to live the last five minutes of your life.

After all, at 100 you don’t have much longer to go. But in that five minutes you will realize that it was all worth it to have bested love in a mortal battle and for once, come out on top as the victor, never to loose again. It’s all coming up at 100. Seventy some odd years to go.

However, how much fun would life be if dating lasted all of five minutes? The mistakes are what make it interesting, albeit confusing at times. In these years, it’s a return to fumbling for the right sentence and using the wrong one. To making the one whom you desire uncomfortable every chance you get. To making a bad call and showing your true emotions at all the inopportune situations. To saying the incorrect thing at the worst possible moment even though you meant it to be the best.

Here’s to going into the game with a loosing team but taking it to the playoffs. Here’s to admitting your shortcomings and telling them to fuck off. Here’s to winning anyway. Here’s to leaving all of your doubts at the office; and regardless of all that you fear and feel reserved about, you can, and will, still win. Here’s to victory before it happens.

Here’s to falling into your baby’s arms and not thinking that there may be something the matter or that she’s contemplating that what you said last week at her place, during the movie, was unorthodox. Here’s to believing at all times that she loves you until proven guilty. So long as you’re still together, there’s time to work out the bullshit. None of us are 100 so why pretend like we are.

We are fallible to fullest extent. We are born to fuck up and fail. It is in our nature. Rejoice in that fact. Run through the sunshine and trip on a log. Jump up and down and twist your ankle. Shout for joy and loose your voice. Write a love letter and misspell your partner’s name. Laugh so hard you get the hiccups. “Life ain’t easy,” is putting it lightly. Rather than being mad that you haven’t found perfection yet, celebrate the fact that you recently shared a meaningful kiss or spent the night in the company of someone who smiled sincerely in your eyes as they embraced you. Maybe you had 6 bad days last week but at lunch on Monday the woman at the gas station gave you $10 too much in change. Dwell on that $10 to get you through and maybe next week you’ll have 6 good days and a lone shitty one. And if there is someone in your life, so long as there is some positive to be gained from that union, extract all that you can. Find the one thing that makes you smile when you think of them and whittle away at the parts that don’t until you’re left with a work of beauty. One that shines to you and only you. One that is so compatible that you might occasionally confuse them with your left leg.

And if you can’t, well than fuck ‘em. Don’t weigh yourself down on their behalf. Love is not a one-way street. You must feel from your mate that which you give to them. As John Lennon and Paul McCartney said, “And in the end/ the love you take/ is equal to the love you make.”

Unfortunately for us, this all takes in excess of five minutes. It takes more like five months, five years, or five decades. The tough part is to maintain the persistence to push though the bane to arrive at that place you so desire—to ignore the briars that brush and cut your arms as you clear your path to the good life. You will heal in time and your scars will be your evidence. Your skin will be tougher and dealing with downfalls will be all the more of ease. You have to look at everything from afar and view it with glasses tinted in positivity. Filter out the bad parts and see only what makes you want to get up tomorrow. You are strong. You are winning because you are living another day in pursuit of 100.

Pete Pidgeon


Meniscus Magazine © 2004. All material is property of respective artists.