An Open Letter To Justin Bieber…
Dearest Justin,
A friend of mine was recently in a car accident. Minor injuries, but just enough to keep him in the hospital overnight. Though only a few bruises and scratches, the hospital would not allow him to leave on his own. He contacted me to pick him up.
My friend, Tits-Box McDermott, and I arrived at the hospital a little after 3pm. When we walked into his room, the curtain was pulled around his bed. It smelled like Lavender. Tits-Box and I took a seat in the hallway. Tits-Box played Tetris on his iPhone. I pulled out a notebook and worked on a remake of In Flanders Fields. A remake commissioned by the Canadian Government, in an attempt to “youth up” Remembrance Day. Not sure what “youth up” means, but it’s what was said in MickGee’s e-mail. MickGee being Daulton McGuinty, of course. Intergovernmental Crips Represent! [inter]GsUpHoesDown!
As I wrote, I noticed a head poking out of the door to the patient room next to my friend’s. I’d look up and the head would vanish back inside the room. Strange. This repeated three more times. On the third, I heard a quiet female giggle. I looked at Tits-Box, who was zoned in on his game, and asked, “is someone staring at us?” He nodded his head yes in silence. I pretended to write, facing my notebook, but aiming my eyes towards the door. The head slowly appeared again. I quickly looked up. It disappeared, this time letting out a louder laugh. I closed my notebook, dropped it on the floor and walked towards the room.
I stood in the frame and made eye contact with a young girl, no older than 13. Her hands started shaking. Eyes began to well up.
She screamed, “Oh my God! Oh my God! It’s really you!” She looked towards the bed she stood at the foot of and yelled, “Sandra! It’s him! I told you it was him!” This was weird to me because I don’t normally have fans this age. I don’t normally have female fans. I don’t normally have fans. Equally surprised, I told her to calm down, and walked slowly towards the bed, raised my hand and said, “pleasure to meet you!” The young girl gripped it as hard as she could and whispered, “my name’s Sonia. I’m your biggest fan! My sister Sandra thinks she’s your biggest fan, but there’s no way! I have everything you’ve ever done! Sandra just steals my stuff! She waits for me to spend my allowance then tries to keep it like it’s hers! Our mom always yells at her!” I smiled, reached towards Sandra and shook her hand. She was weak. She smiled. I told her to stop stealing her sister’s things and that when she’s out of the hospital I’ll mail her some autographed discs. Her smile doubled in size.
She began to speak, but it was hard to hear her voice. I leaned my ear towards her.
“There’s a chance I may not get out of the hospital. Seeing you today is one of the best things to ever happen to me. If I never get out, at least I can say I got a chance to meet you. I’ve loved you for so long!”
I thanked her, overwhelmed by what was happening. She continued…
“There’s two people in this world that I love. You and Justin Bieber. I’ve always dreamed of you two doing something together.”
I told her, “yeah, he’s a talented boy, but way too big for me to work with.” She looked at me stunned and said, “I don’t think so. Didn’t you just make a lot of money? You have to be way more famouser now!” I shook my head and said, “I wish. Jonestown 2 was a free album. It was downloaded a lot, but I don’t see any money from it. My mall performance at the Juno Awards was in front of a lot of people, but most of them had no idea who I was. Hopefully a few do now, but not enough to say it made me famouser.”
She gave me a strange look. We were silent for a few seconds. She broke by asking, “Jonestown? What the fuck is a Jonestown?” I looked at her and asked, “What are you talking about?”
“21 Jump Street!”
“21 Jump Street?”
“Yeah. 21 Jump Street. Your last movie. Channing Tatum was so hot in it, but you were way funnier, Jonah!”
“Jonah?”
“I’m not going to call you by your character’s name, Jonah. You are Jonah Hill, right?”
Embarrassed, I nodded my head. “Yes. Yes, I’m Jonah Hill.” Sonia interrupted, “You should totally make a movie with Justin Bieber. It would be the funniest. He’s so hot. And you’re so…funny!”
“Jonah,” Sandra whispered, “I’m very sick. I can go any day, Jonah. I need you to promise me one thing. Promise me. Promise me you’ll do something with Justin Bieber. It’s the only medicine that can cure me. I understand it takes time, but I’ll fight this as long as I can. Promise me, Jonah Hill. The real Jonah Hill that stands before me. Promise a dying girl that you, Jonah Hill, will do something with Justin Bieber. Promise.”
I looked Sandra in the eyes and made the promise. A nurse walked in and told me Sandra needs her rest and that I should leave. I signed Sandra’s diary and bid them farewell.
I walked into the hallway and felt the nurse grab my wrist. She said, “please, forgive me for eavesdropping, but I overheard you mention Jonestown. I’m a huge fan!” I was relieved someone knew me.
“You are? Thank you so much!”
“For sure I am! My grandmother was a member of the People’s Temple. She survived. Always told me it was misunderstood. I’m curious to see what you do with it. You’re mostly known for your comedies. Wouldn’t think you’d make a movie about Jonestown, Seth.”
“Seth?”
“You are Seth Rogen, right?”
I signed her clipboard and walked out of the hospital.
Tits-Box died that night. Dropped his iPhone in the bathtub after achieving his highest Tetris score. Pissed that he ruined his iPhone, he pulled himself up by the edge of the sink and accidentally pulled in a plugged-in hair dryer. His dream was to always see me work with someone famous.
This story is about dreams, Justin. You once had a dream. I have dreams. Sandra and Tits-Box also had dreams. I’m sure they’re both dreaming in heaven right now. Dreaming of you and me. Help me make their dreams come true.
I’m working on my new album, Jonestown 3. There’s room for one feature. Yours. I’m not looking for singing Justin. I want rapping Justin. Hot sixteen Justin. I don’t mean you being a hot 16 year old. That would be weird. And illegal. I mean you spitting a hot 16. 16 bars.
I’m really good, Justin. I’ve been nominated for three Juno awards. I was at the same Junos you were at. Only I was sitting in the ‘ArtistsWhoHaveNoChanceOfWinningAJuno’ section. You probably didn’t see me, but I was there. Jonestown 2 was nominated for a Juno this past March. I was sitting in the same section, only you weren’t there. You should listen to the album…
See! I’m really good! You didn’t believe me at first, but now you believe. No. You…BELIEBE! See what I did there? I took your surname and used it instead of Believe. You should use that!
You love those beats? They’re produced by Muneshine. He’s doing Jonestown 3, as well. You should also use his beats for your album. We should do a song called Beliebe for your new album. Muneshine can produce it. I can spit a hot 16 on it. Only fair because I came up with the word. We can discuss that another time.
Do this for Canada, Justin. Do this for Hip-Hop. Underground Hip-Hop. Do this for Sonia and Sandra. Do this for Tits-Box McDermott. Do this for me and for every chubby white guy with poor vision that’s mistaken for Jonah Hill and Seth Rogen everyday. Do this for music.
Do this for your heart.
I’m here, Justin. Let’s make history.
Sincerely,
Derek
isderekhome@gmail.com
@dsisive
http://www.facebook.com/DSisiveMusic
#JustinOnJonestown3
