October was getting chilly. The sky was grey and the winds seeped slowly through the crevices of my almost perfect apartment. It was exhilarating. This weather made me unstoppable. My breath matched my pulse which matched the steady hum of the city under my feet. Everything aligned. In the morning, on most mornings, I woke up and turned on "Music for Yoga Meditation". I rolled out a purple mat on my balcony which overlooked the sparkling New York City skyline. Perhaps this deep daily reflection influenced my perception of the world around me, but perhaps the world had just simply gotten better.
On the first day of my twenty-eighth year I met Jonathan Franzen. I was preparing for my private voice students, two girls aged nine and three respectively, and had gotten to the Upper East Side earlier than usual. It was a sunny day. Mild temperatures and blue skies with just a hint of autumn. My mood fit perfectly with the weather. I decided to stop into Oren's Daily Roast, a small coffee shop on 79th and Lexington, to further elevate my already cheery disposition. After a suggestion from the barista, I decided on an iced caramel latte and tucked myself into the corner of a bench (and the only seating) at the front of the shop.
The first thing I heard was a laugh. It was low and soft and legato. Perhaps it was born in that part of the stomach just below the belly button and had space to grow as it rose in his mild heaving chest. I looked up and my heart caught in my vocal folds, fluttering like a teenager in heat. The blood rushed to my face and I was high. Jonathan Franzen, author of The Corrections and Freedom… the only author, other than Stephen King, to ever grace the cover of Time Magazine… Jonathan Franzen was ordering coffee and I was the only other customer in the shop. “Well, shit.” I thought. “Say something!”
As the blood drained to my fingertips, I started to notice what he was wearing; a button-up shirt tucked into jeans with a belt. His shoes could hike Machu Picchu and his hair was just like every picture I'd ever seen. It was clean and restrained to a single wisp of curl, just at the ends. I imagined it smelled like tea tree oil and possibly vanilla. Maybe musk. I thought to myself that we’d make good love. I shook the thought bubble that had formed above my brain. As he payed for the bulk coffee that he’d placed in his reusable canvas bag, I mustered up every ounce of courage that I may ever have. He walked past me, towards the door when I said, “Mr. Franzen?”
He stopped, surprised. I don’t think he was used to young women recognizing him, though I found that incredulous. He turned to me, so I stood up. I suddenly realized that my hippie skirt with sparkles and my tight brown t-shirt featuring a friend’s indie band looked absolutely juvenile next to his regal intelligence, but it was too late. There was nowhere to go but forward.
“I just wanted to say I’m a huge fan of your work. You’re incredible. I’m Jana.” He smiled slightly and said, “Jon. Nice to meet you.” I rambled a bit - but not too much - about how I was currently reading his collection of essays, How To Be Alone, and I just… I clutched my chest. He mirrored me, clutching at his own chest. “Thank you,” he said. “No, thank you.” I replied. He smiled a toothy grin and I watched him leave the only space I was ever meant to inhabit.
The front wall of the coffee shop was made entirely of glass, so I was able to watch as he turned left towards 80th street and disappeared. He was smiling. I was breathless. The coffee shop suddenly seemed dramatically empty.
A couple years ago, I wrote a song about my favorite Franzen novel, Freedom. I performed it for whoever would listen. I even recorded a performance of the song and posted it on YouTube. In this video, I make a joke about dating Mr. Franzen, calling upon his agent and manager to set us up. I truly believed this tactic might actually work. On the first day of my twenty-eighth year I was as close as I’ll ever be.
Goodbye Jon,
It was an honor to be in your presence for that short and memorable amount of time. I appreciate your brilliance. Also, I'm free Friday night... and for the rest of my life. Call me.
Sincerely,
Jana DeBusk
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