Wednesday, August 8, 2012

Don't Say A Prayer For Me Now, Save It 'Til The Morning After (The Concert), or Tra La La Am Going To See Duran Duran, by Allison

So happy whee yay, I am soon traveling to visit my awesome college friend CC and have fun girl fun, and also see Duran Duran in concert! 

Whee yay does not even cover it.

Duran Duran may be the root source of my British, Floppy Hair, Musician (Shut up, John Taylor plays bass, and he used to play guitar in the band before that and I bet you didn't know that because you are not as mental as me, but he is musician) thing.

 I was an early and fervent advocate of Duran Duran, thanks to the wonderful invention called MTV (Note: youngsters, this was when MTV played music videos, which is when a band makes a video involving the song they are singing, I know that sounds outrageous since MTV now features pregnant toddlers and Oompa Loompa type hair gel fetishists, but is true. You could see the band, and hear the song, uphill, in the snow.)

And even before my parents let us get MTV on our home TV, my neighbor had it, and she was my new best friend.

Have you seen the video for Rio?
Floppy Hair!
I was sold, officially became lunatic. (And Note: There may be some (lying) people who claim (falsely) that they were biggest fans of Duran Duran back in the day, but let it be known: They are big lying liars who LIE. It was ME.)

I was off the charts crazypants.

Every song, album, remixes of them sold only in UK, whatever I could get my hands on, I owned and made shrine.

Every magazine written about them I bought.
Even ones in languages I could not speak (Hello, there were still pictures of them including JOHN TAYLOR, I was cool with that) and a very awesome music store in my town would order me all this nonsense, so I had Japanese Duran Duran magazines along with every Tiger Beat and any other source of information on Duran Duran ever.

And since subtlety is not my specialty, and it certainly was not when I was in middle school, I was self-proclaimed Duran Duran Is Awesome They Are British And Have Good Hair And Play Music public relations and promotions person.

Leading those who were uninformed as to What Is Awesome to see the light, and I was pretty dedicated to this pretend and random job I had assigned myself (Note: this is still one of my pretend jobs, along with Boss of Everyone, Enchantress, and Queen), and had all those magazines as proof, and would harangue every person I felt needed to be converted until they gave up and agreed Duran Duran Was Awesome Yay About The Hair and All.

My friend LH held out a long time, she was reluctant to become crazy fan, but I eventually wore her down, and she to this day loves Duran Duran, and who does she have to thank for that? Me, that's who. She knows this is true as I remind her a lot, since I have not matured emotionally since seventh grade.

Along with leading others down the primrose path of AWESOME, I also had to stand my ground, similar to duel at dawn, if  I ran up against someone who was all, "No, Allison, I am their biggest fan."

Not a good idea, Misinformed Person, it was going to be very painful for you, as I was both Totally Mental Fan and Totally Obnoxious And Long-Winded Allison, so good luck with that.

I was complete brat about it, like, "Oh, you like Duran Duran? You are their biggest fan? Huh. Well, do you know the bar in which John Taylor, who by the way is tall and has floppy hair and is British, was working the door when he formed the band? Do you know what kind of toothpaste they like? Did you know Andy Taylor got sick from drinking water that an elephant peed in while filming "Hungry Like the Wolf" video in Sri Lanka? What song hit the Top 20 in the UK first? Do you know the answer to that? Want to debate this some more? Because I am just getting started with the crazy, I've got about 2 more hours of this to throw at you unless you agree Allison Wins Is Biggest Fan She Gets Prize And Maybe Will Marry John Taylor."

 And like many other situations since, most people give up, run away, or nod their heads so I will stop.

As Biggest Fan Ever Have You Seen Them???? I ordered the videotape of several of their music videos that had been released overseas, and when that tape popped into our ginormous VCR that I am not kidding had wood panels like a surfer's car, and the Girls On Film one came up, I was all, huh.

Why is she riding a mechanical bull?
Why are there feathers?
Are those ladies mud wrestling? (By the way, I have not seen that video in a majillion years, it was quickly confiscated, but I am pretty sure that's what I saw)

And also, upon ordering (I am telling you, that was awesome music store and also I was clearly throwing every single cent I earned through babysitting and allowance right at them, it was a symbiotic relationship) the video for The Chauffeur? (Note: I have not heard that song in eleventy evers, but I still remember every single word, am singing it to myself right now, singing blue silver to the amusement of my dog)
(Also Note: That video was also confiscated after I saw it once, and at that point I was not allowed to order any more Duran Duran videos from that music store anymore, but if memory serves, whoever is making the Fifty Shades of Grey book into a movie needs to hire that video's director)

Not-suitable-for-middle-school-girls-videos aside, I possessed every thing there was to have re: Duran Duran, papered not only my walls with posters but also inside of closet, finally inside of drawers, and then I ran out of space and my parents would not let me do the hallway leading to my room
 (Note: In later years, such as when I was in law school, I did not have authority figure saying no, which lead to my roommate and me making an awesome Brad Pitt wall, which we laminated before we threw a big house party so no hooligans would hurt him, we did this in semi-sardonic, semi-joking, semi-not joking don't mess with our wall way).

And of course I begged and pleaded to go see Duran Duran's Seven and The Ragged Tiger tour, they were coming to a nearby town, and I think I was so totally annoying that it was agreed that I could go if my aunt took me and my friends.

My aunt was in her twenties, with long, wavy blond hair, and she lived in an apartment, and I pretty much thought she was the most exotic and sophisticated and cool person ever.

And good-natured, as we made her take us 10 hours early to sit in a line of crazies who would pull out posters of the band and start screaming and crying and rolling around, as if they were going to come to life out of the poster right then.

 (Note: this gave me practice for the crowds at the midnight Twilight shows.
I am aware of where I stand on the Bell Curve of Crazy.
 I am fully aware that I am totally on that curve, but do not land in the area sloping downwards where I think posters will come to life and flip out over the catering truck at the concert hall, which these girls did at  Duran Duran, they stampeded the catering truck, which was idiotic because they lost their place in line, on the off chance that the band was smuggling themselves into the concert venue via catering truck, and I know I was young and uninformed in just about everything, but I knew they would not show up at 11 am for a night concert, and also surely there was a back entrance for the bands so the crazies would not eat them alive)

My aunt dealt with this nonsense all day, and we had great awesome time at concert and randomly I lucked out and the side we ran towards was the side where one Mr. John Taylor was playing his bass, in a very possibly brooding way, and I was pretty much in SQUEE YAY WHEE heaven.

(Note: It was photos like this that most likely were my gateway drug into Please Have Floppy Hair and Be Tall and Play Music, Preferably That You Wrote About How Allison Is Awesome But If Not Make It A Song That I Can Pretend Is About Me.)

(Also Note: I very ridiculously got myself a Panama hat and a white jacket like he is wearing, and wore those things myself. A lot. That was not a wise move sartorially, especially for a 13 year old girl.)

(But Also Note: I learned my lesson, which is It Is Fine To Have Beloved Good Haired Musician As Your Pretend True Love, Just Do Not Dress Like Him.)

So that Duran Duran concert was totally the highlight of my EVER at that point in my life, which made it all the more depressing when going to see them on their next tour.

 "How was that depressing,?" you may ask.

And I may say, "Do you want the long version or the short version.?"

 And you may say, "Um, the short version?"

And I will say, "Ha! There is no short version. Remember who you are talking to? I don't do short."

But it WAS depressing because my friend LH (Remember way earlier when I was talking about bothering people enough that they'd agree to be huge fans too? Same LH) and I got her sister to drive us down to a town a few hours away to see the concert, and the whole ride down, we listened to their music on my portable cassette player, uphill, in the snow.

(Note: youngsters, you have no idea what I am talking about. Maybe there is one in the Smithsonian or something. Otherwise, it was thingy that played music before CDs and disc players (And subnote: youngy youngsters, those were the thingys that played music before iPods, maybe they are in Smithsonian too) )
(Also note: it was not really snowing, in fact it was super hot outside and the car had no air conditioning, just setting the scene here)

And when we arrive at our destination for most excellent Duran Duran concert, lo and behold, the shabby sign said "DU AN  DURAN CANCELLED."

My brain could not process that, as that is NOT what I wanted to be happening. 

Also, they could not scrounge up an extra R for the sign? Tacky and rude.

So I delusionally determine that the concert is NOT actually cancelled and they are wrong.

Do not ask me how I thought that would be a workable strategy in my negotiations with the ticket taking lady who would not take my ticket since the concert was cancelled, but I tried for quite a while, using various tactics (Note: this is before I did Forensics, debate, read all those super helpful books like The  Art of War, The Republic, The Prince, law school, and raising toddlers, so I was ill-equipped) but alas, no concert.

No Du an Duran.

And yet I remained and still remain a loyal fan, I promise, like any good deranged fan, I CAN'T QUIT YOU. 

(Note: I can add to my list, you may have company, but don't worry, that company will have a combination and preferably all of the following important traits: British, Floppy Hair, Tall, Musician, so you can hang out broodingly, remember to brood, but I won't cross you off the list unless I have to for some reason like:  you shrank, you cut your hair, you stopped singing, no more brooding, or whatever.)

So I am steadfast Duran Duran fan, and was super happy when they had the good sense to start with the reunion touring and all, although as long as one Mr. John Taylor, Simon LeBon, and Nick Rhodes are there, I never cared about the other Taylors, Andy and Roger, they were not at all tall and very boring and did not know how to do their hair right at all.

And I am going to see them next weekend, with my friend CC, who not only tolerates but encourages my crazy, and it will be huge big fun whee. Have not decided what to wear yet, but I do know this: it will not be Panama hat and white jacket.