AD loves: Cameron Crowe & Rob Sheffield

Rob Sheffield's new book. Buy it.

I was stretched out in the bathtub one night reading Rob Sheffield’s book, Talking to Girls about Duran Duran.  He was discussing the way girls get when they talk about a band they loved in their youth.  Basically, he described what it meant to be a fangirl (or fanboy) and what it looked like from the outside.  One thought led to another (as they often do) and soon I was thinking about my own fangirling. 

Over the years there were a few bands that truly spoke to my inner OCD princess.  The line of succession went something like this: Hanson, Our Lady Peace, Blink 182, John Mayer, Mumford and Sons.  There were a million bands in between that I also loved.  But these were the five that demanded I spend my last four bucks on a magazine with 100 words about their newest album, twenty bucks on an import from across the pond and hundreds of dollars in concert tickets.   He spoke of how, as we grow up, we may distance ourselves from the person we were during the eras of each band, but our love for those bands, those obsessions, would always come bubbling out.  Fangirling.  Even men do it.

From time to time I try to hide my inner-fangirl.  I don’t often share that it was only recently that I finally threw away my binder full of Hanson posters (over a thousand), the number of Mumford & Sons concerts I’ve been to or the letter I never sent to John Mayer (about what a freaking idiot I thought he was to record with Taylor Swift).  Some things no one needs to know.

When I find myself pulling in, building walls around the biggest sections of my heart, I know it’s time for another viewing of Almost Famous.  I’ve considered Cameron Crowe one of my heroes for a very long time.  Recently, I even tweeted about my love for him and geeked out when he replied with a “Thank you, Audiodaughter.”  It didn’t matter than I knew he had no idea who Audiodaughter was or why she loved him.  All that mattered was that he tweeted to me!  For a long time, I thought he was my hero because, for a while anyway, he wrote for Rolling Stone.  Since Almost Famous is semi-autobiographical, it’s also safe to assume he’s been on the road with some pretty awesome bands.  This, dear friends, is my dream job.

Still my favorite movie after all these years.

As I sat in my bathtub, though, I realized my appreciation for him went much deeper than his making my favorite movie and writing for my favorite magazine.  In one movie, he suddenly made it okay for me to be two things: A fangirl and a geek.  Those two qualities basically sum up my existence.  During most of my young adult life I spent a huge amount of time running from those titles.  Then a boy came along and he made me watch a movie.  That movie was Almost Famous.  That movie changed my life.

I watched for nearly two hours as this ridiculously smart, good kid went on the adventure of a lifetime.  He met and received advice from his favorite author, Lester Bangs.  He talked him into letting him write for his magazine.  Then, he fangirled his way into getting backstage at a show.  The next thing you know, he’s traveling with an insanely popular band and taking calls from Rolling Stone.  By the end of the movie, as he sat in his bedroom bonding with a rock star, there wasn’t any doubt in my mind as to what I wanted to do with my life and whether or not it was okay.

Cameron Crowe made it okay for me to not only be smart but also obsessive.  It was like how watching West Wing taught me it was okay to be smart, witty and sarcastic.  That people who didn’t understand me or were offended by my attitude weren’t right.  They were just less self-assured.  And nothing pisses off self-conscious people more than someone who’s confident.  And if that person is a woman, then she’s obviously a bitch.  CJ, Donna, Mrs. Bartlet, Kate and Amy all proved to me that I wasn’t a bitch, others were just simpering.  Not my problem.

In other words, those two guys mean a lot to me. Crowe taught me it was okay to be good and smart and a fangirl. Rob Sheffield drives that point home every time he writes a book. I mean, how can a dude who devotes a whole chapter to Rod Stewart not be an absolute geek? Fact: Being a geek is far more about devotion to a subject than IQ scores. Sheffield is just another example of making geekery cool. I hope someday I'm someone's Sheffield or Crowe. That'd be bad ass.

Interestingly enough (or maybe not?), Crowe and Sheffield aren't the only guys to have an impact on my life. A decent portion of my favorite bands and all my weird musical phases have been brought on by other important boys in my life. Remind me to tell you about them sometime. ;)

Love,
AD

Bury me in my shades, Boys

Who knew being a full-time writer could be so hard? I've had practically no time to update my blog, which makes me immensely sad. I promised funeral songs, though, and today you're going to get them.

I think about death a lot. Not because I long for it or anything melodramatic like that. It's just that, while most kids spend the first decade of their lives not really grasping the concept of death, I went through a time in my life where I experienced the death of a loved one for several years in a row. I also grew up with a mom who suffered from various health problems. I can remember being a fourth grader, lying in my bed at night and praying that my mom would live a long, long time and be able to continue walking. That happened. She's still alive and, continued walking unaided for much longer than most doctors thought possible. There are still days, though, when I'm overcome with the worry that someday she'll be gone.

Meanwhile, my grandmother (Mamaw!) just celebrated her 89th birthday with a big surprise party filled with people she loves and who love her. There were lots of tears and lots of laughs. She's actually the person who inspired this blog. I have a love for good harmonies and sweet voices. I spent several months obsessed with a few songs, all of which I thought would be perfect to play at her funeral.


I love all these songs beyond reason. I especially love "Tomorrow Will Be Kinder" for my Mamaw. My grandpa (Papaw) died about 23 years ago. His absence left all of us pretty stunted. Mamaw has always had her issues, but the death of my grandfather definitely changed her. She misses him immensely, even after all these years. Which is pretty amusing, actually. If you ask her how she felt about my Papaw, she'll tell you she never liked him when they were younger. He was completely smitten with her and constantly came up to her family's farm with excuses to talk to her brothers... just so he could see her. He had to join the Army, go away for a while and then come back before she finally decided she liked him, too. Since then, there has never been another man for her. I know she'll be infinitely happier when she can be with him, again. That day will certainly seem much kinder.

There's one more funeral song I need to mention. It was written by the late, great Shel Silverstein. I've been told from multiple sources that somewhere there's a recording of Silverstein singing the tune "Bury Me In My Shades." But, I've yet to find it. Still... it's the song I want at my funeral. And, if no one can Silverstein version and don't want to play one of the many others. They better at least read it. I think it's a befitting way to send me on my way...



Perfect, no?

Love,
AD