The Six Degrees of Robin Zander
A few years back, there was a movie called Six Degrees of Seperation, which I never saw, but was reported to be about how everything is interconnected and you can take any object or person and within six steps, relate it to any other object or person of your choice. This was followed by a book, whose authors were interviewed by Jay Leno, called The Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon in which they related anything and everything to Kevin Bacon in only six steps.What the hell does this have to do with the lead singer of Cheap Trick, you all are asking me right now, and what does a good Southern Girl care about some Yankee music group anyway? Well, the book and the movie have nothing to do with Cheap Trick, in six easy steps or otherwise. But I was at the drug store today, getting my husband's prescription filled, and mentioned being at the Young At Heart Festival down at City Hall, a yearly carnival/music event with rides, games, food vendors, and really old music groups that can't get gigs anywhere else.
The clerk at the pharmacy counter asked me if Cheap Trick was playing at this festival and I told her no, but they'll be at On The Waterfront in September, and at the Riverbend Festival in my former hometown of Chattanooga, TN on June 24 (I think that's the day. It's the last Friday night of the two-week event.) Again, you're asking yourself, what does this self-proclaimed keeper of the flame of All That is Right and Southern care about a bunch of Yankees who bang out tunes?
And here's the answer. I really like Cheap Trick. I mean, I really, really like them. As in, if I was twenty years younger I would sneak into their hotel and tie myself to Robin Zander's bedpost. That kind of like. I didn't know they were from Rockford, IL until I met my husband (who wasn't my husband then, but you get the idea) and he told me all about them. I'd always liked their music, but after meeting my not-yet-but-one-day-soon husband I started looking into the band as a whole. And Boom! An obsession was born.
I can't explain it, although I've tried. There was just something about that music (so...raw!) and those lyrics (so patently suggestive) that made me think, "Damn! Play that again!"
I soon owned every album they ever put out, and a few they probably don't know about and I'm in no hurry to tell them. And I realized, as I listened, and watched concert DVD's, and combed the web for fan sites, and bought memorabilia off E-bay, that Robin Zander, in addition to being incredibly talented, is the closest thing I've ever seen to sex on a stick.
Now, you know how it is when you admire someone famous. Suddenly you are running into people everywhere who know them, or know someone who knows them, or met them once, or got their picture taken backstage, or used to date a girl whose brother sold them illicit substances, or someone who's great-aunt Marcy went to church with the guitar-player's grandmother. You can't get away from it. Talk to six random people about their favorite group and its gonna lead back to the one you like.
So, for the first time in my life, I'm panting after some famous dude who looks good in black leather pants and has a voice that can melt your knickers. Not that I'd wear any but that's another post. I regret not pursuing this fascination when I was nineteen or twenty, but I was severely religious then and if I did chase after rock stars, it would have been to convert them from their sinful ways. Which left me with a huge burden of regret on top of my obsession with Yankeeboy Robin.
Of course, he's married and has a couple of Zanderettes and now lives in Clearwater, FL, which makes the chances of bumping into him in the produce aisle almost nil. And I'm married and have a litter of my own to keep up with and don't have time to chase after rock stars. Needless to say, my rock star/groupie fantasy didn't go far, but it has made for the nice beginnings of a very steamy novel. One day, I'll head down to FL, look up Mr. Zander and thank him for that. If it ever gets published, that is.
So where is the 'six degrees' in all this? And what does this have to do with being Southern? Well, other than the obvious connection to Cheap Trick's early song, 'Southern Girls', it all leads back to the pharmacy clerk. Seems she has the same problem I do, only she's actually met the guy, kissed him, and has the pictures to prove it. Bless her little ole pea-pickin' ugly Yankee girl heart. I looked her straight in the eye and told her I would hate her forever. And then proceeded to tell her how my husband's met him. And the guy who roadies for my husband's band used to roadie for Cheap Trick back in the day. And the guy who's wedding my husband is performing at this coming weekend is in a band with Robin Zander's daughter. And so on. I figured, maybe if I kept on counting, the degrees would eventually lead back to me and I'd have a connection somewhere.
So why do I care? Let's chalk it up to the age old tradition of good girls falling for bad boys. You know, like the Salvation Army lady and the gambler in Guys and Dolls. I have a long, long history as a disgustingly good girl. And the object of my obsession used to be, I am told, a very naughty fellow. So it makes a kind of perverse kind of sense that this good, church-going, wholesome Baptist Southern girl (or Southern Baptist girl, take your pick) would find herself drawn to a wicked Yankee who dances in and out of the flames of hell in the process of making a living. Don't it?
Which also explains why I ended up marrying my husband, who could probably give lessons to Mr. Zander, et al, on how to be a naughty boy and still get a good girl to marry you.
God, I love that man. (My husband, not Robin Zander.)
And now, friends and neighbors, its time to show my naughty Yankee almost-was-a-rock-star husband why tossing brats on the grill is NOT barbecue!
posted by Zoe Richardson @ 3:21 PM
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