freaks and geeks

I’ve been rewatching Freaks and Geeks and it’s by far one of the greatest experiences I’ve had rewatching something I loved when I was 14. I’m a big rewatcher, if you haven’t noticed. I am nostalgic by default and usually my old favorite shows and movies deliver the goods, never making me feel exactly the same way as they did when I first watched them, but close enough. Freaks and Geeks has been the best rewatch though, because it’s funnier now than it was back then, when I was the age of the characters on the show. Back then I watched Lindsay say, “Man, I hate high school,” and nodded earnestly, angstily along. Now it’s Friday night and my neighbors are partying; voices steeped in drunken confusion drift up to my windows, reminding me of pre-pandemic times. It’s disorienting. But I’m watching inverted bootleg episodes on Dailymotion, seeing Sam Weir make his fantastic faces (see figure 1) and wear his “Parisian night suit” (figure 2) and laughing out loud to myself.

Figure 1: Neal and Sam eat meatballs

I was just watching the episode where Ken (Seth Rogen’s character) is crushing on the girl in band, watching her on the football field marching and playing her tuba. This made me think 1) of the time in 3rd grade when it’s like government-mandated that everyone learns to play “Hot Cross Buns” on the recorder and 2) the time I auditioned for a jazz vocal group in college.

Figure 2: Sam, defeated, in his “Parisian night suit”

The jazz group was one step away from acapella. I drew the line at acapella, although I did see a few concerts. I only voluntarily attended one acapella concert—and the group was pretty good—but I saw many more acapella performances against my will, because for two years I had to walk through arches to get home. I once crawled through a gap in the archway to get to my dorm’s door and avoid the big finish on an all-male acapella group’s rendition of Nina Simone’s “Feeling Good.”

To be honest, I wouldn’t have been good enough to get into one of these acapella groups anyway. But it was the fall of sophomore year and I was feeling unsure and kind of lonely, and I thought that jazz singing was kind of close to the singing I’d done in middle school chorus and in the short-lived band I had with my friends in high school. Freshman year had come and gone. I hadn’t joined a sorority, hadn’t gotten into a cooperative house, many of my magazine friends had graduated, and I felt like I didn’t really have a group that I belonged to. I hoped this singing group would be it.

At the audition, I was more nervous than I thought I would be. I’d had this same feeling before at pretty much every audition I’d ever had—like my voice suddenly shrank down into my stomach and when I tried to sing, even breaths could barely crawl their way out. I made it through the song I’d prepared (Cat Power’s “Sea of Love”), but everything went out the window when the director asked, “Do you know what scatting is?”

I did my best, and it was definitely not good. Miraculously, I got a callback and I was so excited. I took a Snapchat of me walking to the callback on the empty evening campus, beautiful fall light in the background, the chimes of the clock tower feeling auspicious. I went to a movie later that night, and I kept checking my phone to see if I’d gotten in.

“After a lot of deliberation, we are sad to say that we will not be able to offer you a spot in the group this semester.” I was more upset than I thought I’d be, reading the email on my phone in the Regal bathroom stall at the mall, crying. I realized how much I’d had riding on this silly singing group, like it was my last chance to find the people who’d be “my people” (ugh). It wasn’t, of course, but it felt that way.

What I like about Freaks and Geeks is that it captures this exact kind of moment so well, the things you throw yourself into when you’re a teenager and you just want friends and love, and everything feels so dire. The things you try to do to prove to yourself you’re somebody, that you’re liked, that you know who you are.

Turns out that the person I am does a lot of things, but scatting is not one of them—and I think we’re all better off because of that.

Bonus: Sam strutting the halls of McKinley High in aforementioned night suit