There’s just something about chilly December nights that make me want to listen to Norah Jones. I thought about it for awhile, and I think it’s because the first time I heard “Don’t Know Why,” I had just gotten done decorating a miniature Christmas tree in my dorm room. I lit a cinnamon apple scented candle, and I was about to enjoy a bottle of cheap champagne all by myself. (The bottle broke right after the song ended, and I ended up cutting the shit out of my hand and bleeding all over the sink, but perfection was in sight — if even for a few minutes.)
To this day, I’ve never seen the video for “Don’t Know Why.” I think there must be one — I Googled it, and found something on MTV.com — but I didn’t want to watch it until after I wrote this post because over the years, I’ve kind of thought up my own video for “Don’t Know Why,” and I wanted to write it down before I ruin it by watching the real thing.
Here goes nothing.
|Intro||The non-existent video in my head fades in to crashing waves on a cool, sunny beach.|
|I waited ‘til I saw the sun/I don’t know why I didn’t come||The camera slowly angles upward and pans around to the right as the lyrics begin.|
|I left you by the house of fun/I don’t know why I didn’t come/I don’t know why I didn’t come||An amusement pier comes into view, similar to Morey’s in Wildwood, NJ.|
|When I saw the break of day/I wished that I could fly away/Instead of kneeling in the sand/Catching teardrops in my hand||A girl wakes up on the beach. She’s got long, curly, dark hair (like Norah Jones, duh). She’s dressed in a long gray raincoat and a light scarf. She brushes her hair out of her face as she sits up, taking in the view of the ocean. The camera zooms in on her face, and she looks sad. (The girl is singing the song — she looks a lot like Norah Jones, right?)|
|My heart is drenched in wine/But you’ll be on my mind forever||The wind blows back her hair as she looks down at the empty wine bottle in lying next to her in the sand. A close-up of the bottle shows that the dark blue label features a pirate ship sketched in white — it’s called Blackbeard Pinot Noir.|
|Out across the endless sea/I would die in ecstasy||Cut to a clip of the same girl driving up a windy road in a convertible on the West Coast, presumably later in time. Her scarf is wrapped around her head, and she’s wearing dark, round, vintage sunglasses. She looks out to the glimmering sea in the distance over her left shoulder.|
|But I’ll be a bag of bones/Driving down the road alone||The empty wine bottle and a notebook rest on the passenger seat. Gusts of wind flip the pages of the notebook to reveal a hand-written letter on one of the pages.|
|My heart is drenched in wine/But you’ll be on my mind forever||Cut back to the first beach, but a few hours earlier – the night before she fell asleep on the beach. She’s standing on the beach sipping the last drops of wine out of the bottle, glancing into the distance at the dark amusement pier as she kneels down in the sand.|
|Musical interlude||A montage of a few short clips: the girl sleeping on the beach; a guy standing in front of a funhouse on the pier; and the girl and the guy drinking wine and laughing at a winery in northern California, presumably at an earlier point in time. They’re sitting at a little café table outside at night – with sparkly lights strung above them. A blurry sign in the background reads, Pirate Bay Vineyards. The bottle of wine on their table is the same as the bottle she holds in her hand on the beach.|
|Something has to make you run||Back to the convertible scene. The car is parked near the beach, and she reaches for the notebook and wine bottle. She runs (in slow motion, of course) onto the beach toward the Pacific Ocean.|
|I don’t know why I didn’t come/I feel as empty as a drum||Cut to a view of the guy placing a bottle of wine on a ledge outside the funouse, and then walking away while lights from the Ferris wheel shimmer in the background.|
|I don’t know why I didn’t come/I don’t know why I didn’t come||She rips the letter out of her notebook, rolls it up and slips it into the bottle. She forces the cork in as far as it will go and throws it into the sea.|
|I don’t know why I didn’t come||Cut to a view of the girl approaching the funhouse on the pier. It’s dark and the lights are out. She looks around and notices the bottle of wine. The video fades out just as her fingers brush the bottle.|
That is completely cheesy. But, hey. That’s why I used to be a film major. And I know that is probably nowhere close to the format one would use to write a music video, but I changed majors after just a few semesters, so I didn’t get that far.
Anyway, I’m going to go watch the real thing now. I bet it blows my imaginary one out of the water.
This crazy trip has got me feelin’: artsy
And I’m singin’ along to: Don’t Know Why – Norah Jones