Thursday, November 19, 2009
Hey Sid...this is Nancy calling.
I used to think I adored jocks. In high school, I used to pine over the boys in baseball pants, or the tough guys who could handle a slide on the gymnasium floor in basketball shorts. But in all honesty, my main man would have to be an artist of sorts. Preferably, a musician.
Artists are far and few between these days. Well, decent ones to say the least. A musician to me can be anyone, the drummer in the garage metal band or the cello-wielding nerd. What's so fascinating about musicians? Maybe it's because I see something in them that I'll never have -- talent. I can't even read a sheet of music. I love the passion that a musician has when they play their instrument. When playing a song on a guitar he has written himself you can see a burning fire in his eyes. It's enough to drive a girl wild.
Maybe I thrive off of what Hollywood has portrayed musicians to be. I mean, don't they all write songs about us and serenade us into the early morning? Sit around looking grunge-y and throw the guitar case over their back when they leave the house? I'll admit that's what I fantasize my "life" to be. I like to imagine I'll be riding on the tour bus from bars to stadium arenas, being my boyfriend's number one fan. It would be a sweet life. Maybe I am just looking for a guy to live out my rock star dreams for me, since I have yet to be able to play chords on a guitar. Maybe all musicians aren't like that, but I'll find my Kurt Cobain/John Lennon/Yo Yo Ma someday.