behindthemusic


Navigation :: News :: Buy The CD :: Links :: Ludo Live :: Ludoisms :: Band Bios :: What Makes Ludo Play? :: Ludo Desktops :: Ludo in the Press :: Behind The Music: Ludo :: Super Fan :: The Band's History :: Lyrics :: Meet Casi :: Home

	Behind The Music: Ludo

		Hum Along... What's The Story Behind The Song? Andrew Anwsers Your Question... So there was this girl, see. I saw her picture for the first time five years ago in someone's yearbook and was instantly smitten. I read her senior paragraph thingy, and I was even more smitten. I flipped through the yearbook and found every single picture of her I could, hoping to somehow debunk my stupid crush, but in every picture she was doing something cuter. It was ridiculously stupid, but I was stricken. I couldn't stop thinking about her. Then lo and behold, someone wanted me to go to a high school commencement ceremony with them because a friend of theirs was graduating. And wouldn't ya know who else was graduating? Was it my dream gal? You guessed it. So I was definitely going. I had thought about her constantly for about three weeks when I arrived at the hall where they were doing the graduation. I'd thought about the way she talked, what her opinions were, how she chewed certain foods, all sorts of obsessive shit. I had imagined her somehow running into me, striking up a conversation, touching my arm accidentally, becoming my girlfriend. I didn't have a plan. I just thought that if I could get near her, something magical would happen. And I don't mean Disney-type magic. I mean like ancient, mystical, true-love, super-magic. You know, the kind the government doesn't want you to know about. Anyway, so I watched the whole ceremony from the very back of the room, and I could squint and see vaguely which one she was. And I positioned myself so that she would have to walk right past me when they recessed after the ceremony. And the whole time, I was just awash in my stupid-fantasy world, and then the time came. The moment of truth. She was coming up the aisle toward the back with all the other graduates. I was about to explode. I didn't know what was going to happen. Would she look at me? Would she fall? Would she fall in love with me? Was I going to die somehow? And then she walked by, and I saw her up close. She walked right by me. And she was a real person. She was crying (I assume because of being emotional about graduating). She was like breathing and stuff. She was a real living person. Not some construction of my hyper-extrapolating brain. I was some creep. I was this freaky dude standing there doing what? Trying to meet some girl for the first time, forcing an opportunity that didn't exist. What was I, going to walk up to her in the middle of an important moment in her life and say, "Hi, you don't know me, but I have been looking at your picture, and pretending like I know you, and came here today in the hopes that you would fall in love with me for no good reason. Or that maybe we could go bowling or something."? Wow. I am a douchebag. That night I went back to my house, and I was laying in bed, trying to sort it all out. I WAS a creep. What did I want? What would ever make me not a creep? I needed an angle. I needed to give myself closure. I needed to imagine a scenario where I could have her, and it would be totally right. What if she got kidnapped? What if I was the only one who knew about it? Wait a minute. What if she got kidnapped by goddamn pirates? Yes! And where do pirates take hostages? Somewhere tropical. Peru sounds exotic. Yes! That's awesome. The local authorities would try and get involved, but they didn't see what I had seen, and they wouldn't believe me anyway. They also didn't have the manpower to undertake an international rescue mission even if they did believe me. Time is running out. What should I do? Screw it. I'm going to Peru. This gal needs saving, and I for one am not going to stand around and let her die at the swords of those marauding bastards. Fortunately, I had a secret map. And I was pissed. So I took a series of flights to Lima, using my life-savings. Then I took buses, taxis, and a mountain guide deep into the rainforest. At a certain point (as always), my guide said he could go no further, because of some supernatural shit, like a burial ground. Standard. Fine, I would go alone. So I did a fair amount of bushwhacking, came across my girl all tied up, and emerged from the jungle, this dirty dork, to kick some major pirate-ass. Despite my lack of combat training, I was fueled by fury, and chopped down some bad dudes using my hot machete action. Then I untied her, and we escaped amidst gunfire, as more pirates were coming. She didn't know who I was, but she knew I wasn't a pirate, and in that moment, that was good enough for her. Then ensues the long hitchhiking/stowaway/bushwhacking north part. We couldn't take public transportation because these pirates were well-connected and the corrupt police force was looking for us. A couple thousand miles later, we were in Mexico. She was still being difficult. She didn't trust me. It's that standard love-hate initial relationship that eventually turns into love-love. The initial conflict of that makes for more interesting dialogue and dramatic tension (will she fall for him eventually? why does he put up with her? she's a bitch.). Then, while camping out on a beautiful Mayan temple by the ocean, she finally opens up to me. We get to know each other and all that jazz. And we get drunk on some exotic liqueur found in some large red fruit, that grows on trees around the temple. We start making up songs and singing them, no longer afraid of all the scary crap that one finds in jungles (jaguars, guerillas, ancient evil forces), especially after our ordeal with those pirate-clowns. Then in some great moment, it becomes clear that she wants to be kissed. And then making out happens. And it's epically wonderful. So then you've got consummation of the whole boy-girl conflict, and a nice potential groundwork for a blossoming, mature lifelong relationship. Holla! Enter the natives. They worship us. Please ignore the Eurocentric, anti-indigenous, pro-imperialistic slant here. The natives are NOT a lesser people. They just happen to think we're pretty awesome. And they make us their royalty. Which is cool with us. We might as well hang out for awhile. Then awhile turns into weeks. And weeks turn into months. And we help them build better huts. And we establish a kickball league. And she starts to wear tropical flowers in her hair. And I learn how to do all manner of native-guy stuff. And we fall in love. And we never want to go back. And we are good to our people. And they treat us with endless love. And we forget about cell phones and clocks and money and computers. And we live in our own little idyllic world together forever. Sometime when we are very old, still sleeping together at the top of that temple, she sings those same old songs we used to sing to the jaguars. And I hum along until I fall asleep. She is beautiful and she is everything to me. My perfect fantasy. And that's all I wanted - a fantasy. Because she'll never see that movie in my head. Which is a good thing: she could never live up to the character I created. In real life she probably sucks in one way or another. She probably has an annoying voice. Or writes poetry in all lowercase letters. Or tries too hard to be deep. Or smokes way too much weed. Maybe she's a moron. Maybe she hates people from Indonesia. Who knows. I'd rather not know. I'd rather keep her where she is - perfect at the top of that Mayan temple by the ocean, eternally sweet, mine until the day I die. Maybe one day though (and this is the best part for me), Hum Along will be all over the radio. Maybe she'll be walking down the street and hear it. Maybe she won't really know the words, but she'll find herself humming along anyway. She would never know that it's about her. She would walk around singing it, and never know how close she came to being a pawn in an international kidnapping. She'll never know how close she came to being the love of my life. And I think that's beautiful. And probably a whole hell of a lot less creepy for her.

Hosted by www.Geocities.ws