I’d been walking to my history class in Gambrell when I heard a distinctly ’80s tune blasting toward me from the Pickens Street bridge. I lingered outside the building to see what was going on, only to find an unexpected sight: a man sporting Wayfarers, a red plaid jacket and a huge smile peeking out from behind a wiry beard, jamming down the street with a large boom box resting on his shoulder.
I was instantly curious. Who was this guy, what was he doing, why and did he do it all the time? He was a curiosity, instantly recognizable and after that moment, it was as if I saw mention of him everywhere. My Facebook mini-feed would regularly be updated with statuses like “Saw Boombox Guy jamming on Greene today. Made my morning!” and “Boombox Guy’s at it again!”
After spending a year abroad, I entered my fourth year this fall, only to find that people hadn’t seen Boombox Guy in a while. Returning to a USC without his periodic appearances felt strange, andod I wondered where he’d gone – so I worked with G&B to track him down.
“I had to go on sabbatical,” he says. “I had to go to the East. I traveled to Singapore to learn the true meaning of the boom box, but I couldn’t take my boom box on the plane,” he jokes. He tells me of his interest in Asian cultures, how he loves making video games and singing karaoke.
Then he tells me a story.
"The karaoke machine at Art Bar broke one night. I went home quickly and grabbed my boom box. I got back and raised the boom box over my head, blasting ‘Don’t Stop Believin’. People sang along and followed in a crowd behind me, ready to get their karaoke on again. It was pretty awesome.”
This was the Boombox Guy I’d expected.
I’d heard a lot of rumors about him over the years – that there had been many Boombox Guys before him, that he’d been here for nine years, that he wasn’t a student, that he was homeless, that he was paid by USC to jam. While Boombox Guy denies all these statements, he won’t publicly confirm much else regarding his history. What he does reveal, though, is that he knew the first Boombox Guy, who he refers to as just Elliot.
“He was too beautiful for this earth,” he says about his old friend and props his foot on the largest of his boom boxes.
“The Boombox Guy started from very humble beginnings in the vilest dorm ever to grace USC,” he continues. “We called it Douglas – the ‘Dirty D’; one of the former Honeycomb Towers.”
Elliot and the current Boombox Guy started many Boombox Guy traditions together.
“The first time I dressed as a Twinkie, Elliot and I went to the Russell House with a boom box. Apparently we ‘started a riot,’ and they kicked us out,” he says.
Now, every year around Halloween, Boombox Guy dons his infamous Twinkie outfit.
“I do different Halloween costumes,” he explains, “but I always do one day with the Twinkie, ’cause it’s so darn hilarious.”
Even his favorite song, “Slow Poke” by Short Baby is close to him because of its connection to the original Boombox Guy. The song is from the first mixtape they made.
The first song that he played on his boom box is – of course – an ’80s hit, “I Ran” by A Flock of Seagulls.
“That’s a song I’ll always play, including a few others,” he says and explains how he likes to have musically themed days. “I always play Ghostbusters on Halloween, and Christmas songs toward the holiday. Even stuff like Irish music for St. Patty’s Day.”
I mention that I usually hear him play ’80s and ’90s hits, and he says: “I’ve played all types of music. Generally I take requests, but lately people have been requesting stupid things.”
Afraid he’ll include stuff I love on that list, I don’t ask what constitutes as stupid.
As I ask Boombox Guy more about his beginnings, he combs through the numerous colorful suit jackets sprawled across the couch.
“I love primary colors, number one,” he says. “Number two, I love patterns. Houndstooth is my favorite pattern, after paisley.”
He’s serious.
“It’s hard to find a good paisley jacket,” he says and looks at me as I laugh.
There is a pause, and then he says with a smile: “You know, there are people who don’t like me.”
I don’t believe it, but he nods and continues. “There’ve been times people have threatened to kick my ass. Mostly a few different frat guys.”
“Why?” I ask.
He shrugs his shoulders, but I get it. In the few weeks that G&B has spent looking for him, I’ve witnessed the negativity directed toward Boombox Guy, perhaps some even brought on by us. For every 100 new “Likes” to his Facebook page (he’s had over 1,100 since our search began this fall), there’s been someone else making a stab at him and his boom box.
“You just have to be prepared for it,” he shrugs. “To quote Lonely Island: ‘A boom box is not a toy.’”
Boombox Guy doesn’t just get negativity from students but from law enforcement as well.
“I’m not a fan of that crazy religious fanatic who preaches outside Russell House,” he tells me, shifting as he readjusts his coat. “So, I decided to play ‘Why Can’t We Be Friends’ in front of him. But the USCPD held me back and told me that the ‘preacher’ had a permit to be there, and I said; ‘He’s got a permit to be a jerk?’” The second time Boombox Guy attempted the same thing, USCPD allowed him to stay.
“I’ve almost been arrested twice for disturbing the peace,” Boombox Guy says, and I can’t tell if he’s proud or chagrined because he’s still smiling away.
He turns and absentmindedly pulls a giant papier-mâché Pac-Man head off the couch, putting it on over his own head. His voice is slightly muffled as he recounts his most satisfying moment as Boombox Guy.
“I’ve always wanted to be a part of a spontaneous musical,” he says, “and once in front of the BA, it happened. One person started dancing to my music, and another and another. It was awesome.”
He takes the Pac-Man head off.
“Through all the criticism and harassment I get from doing this,” he says, “when a person approaches me and says, ‘You made my day for doing what you do,’ that makes it all worth it. It really feels like I have made a difference when I can improve the quality of someone’s day. I don’t know the reason why this was started, but the reason I do it now is that it makes people happy.”
There are tales of spear guns and ball pits still left untold, but I know everything I’d been wanting to know about Boombox Guy.
You’ll notice, though, that I haven’t told you his real name; I haven’t told you his major, his year or anything substantial about his history. Are you still wondering those same questions I asked myself when I first saw him my freshman year?
The journalist in me wants to tell you exactly when the first Boombox Guy came into being; she wants to tell you where this one lives, when he’s graduating, even what color his eyes are – but the USC student in me won’t say a thing.
In my search for Boombox Guy, I’ve found that it is the mystery behind this radio-wielding, Twinkie-wearing, ’80s music-playing badass that makes him someone worth talking about. Someone worth writing about, someone worth listening to and someone worth high-fiving if you see him on your way to class – because he’d like that.
