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Get Your Pash* On

Get Your Pash* On

By: Jenna D. Banks

Some girls have a thing for movie stars. For others, it might be basketball player or soap opera hottie. I have a friend who is hopelessly in lust with Brad Pitt. She owns every movie heís ever been in and has intimate knowledge of his career and personal life that could only be obtained through years of intensely-focused, sitting-in-a-tree-with-a-camera-type stalking.

I admire her dedication.

But, for me, itís always been the musicians. Drummers, guitarists, bassists, singers, I donít care. Give Ďem a Marshall, a microphone, and a little eyeliner, and Iím done for.

I think it must have started in preschool when Bobby Meyer played Mary Had a Little Lamb on his Playskool plink-plink piano. My little 4-year-old heart skipped a beat, and - though she gave a valiant effort - Mrs. Elston could not drag me away from his sunhine-yellow, play-mat stage. She spent the rest of the year repeatedly explaining to me that Sunnybrook Daycare did NOT have a BACKSTAGE, and that milk and cookie time was NOT the AFTERPARTY, but it was no use. My interest in construction paper collages had fallen by the wayside, and from then on, it was all about the music.

Early on, it was David Cassidy and Leif Garrett. Tiger Beat was like prepubescent crack.

By high school, my taste in rip-out-and-tape-up wall art had taken a definite turn. My bedroom was plastered with Ozzy, Angus, Blackie, Crue, Ratt, Hagar, and Diamond Dave. If they hit the pages of Circus or Metal Edge, you can bet theyíd eventually adorn my walls, where they would have my motherís finger shaken at them and be accusingly referred to as ďTHAT,Ē as she questioned my musical taste and good sense. God love her, she never understood my Aqua Net addiction either.

In those days, it was the blonde, pretty-boy lead singer that did it for me - Vince, Jon, Bret, Thereís just something about a man that can sing. I dated a pretty blonde singer for a while. His band sucked. Actually, he wasnít all that great either, but with his cool brown aviator shades and sufficient distortion, my best friend Heather and I could sit for hours and watch them rehearse.

Serving only to feed my fetish, one of my friends owned the local music shop and another had been a bodyguard on a couple major tours - connections that landed us backstage fairly often.

Throughout the years, passing fancies have included Sebastian, Steven, and Zakk (back in the late-80s Ozzy days, long before Black Label Society). I had a short-lived Jani Lane thing after a backstage party at a Poison/Warrant show in Cape Girardeau, MO. Same for Robert Sweet, only substitute Evansville, IN. These days, the badboy du jour is Tommy Lee if Iím feeling naughty or Nikki Sixx if Iím feeling downright nasty.

I know Iím not alone in my choice of mind candy. Seems the internet lends a certain anonymity that encourages the free expression of thoughts that might otherwise live only in the realm of imagination. There are hundreds upon hundreds of fan sites, band/musician worship sites, and plenty of fanfic for your reading pleasure. Fanfic - a fiction subgenre in which fans shanghai an established fictional character or real life celebrity, enlisting them into the authorís literary fantasy. The sub-subgenre, bandfic or rockfic**, narrows the focus to - as its name suggests - rockstars and has been known to be of an X-rated nature.

No matter where you get your rock pash fix, the question remains: What is it that draws us to musicians? A psychologist might offer up a lengthy explanation involving celebrity worship, self-esteem issues, anonymity, bad-boy attraction, or any other in a long line of statistically legitimate factors. I have a few theories of my own that Iíll share in the weeks to come, but for now, Iíll just say, ďYum,Ē and go back to working out Shout At The Devil on my plink-plink piano.

*pash - As in passion, slang for crush or infatuation

**rockfic - Typically X-rated, not for the faint of heart. WARNING: For my loyal contingent of readers who are themselves rockstars - I know youíre out there - I would NOT recommend you search out your own rockfic. If you do, I am SOOOOOOO not responsible for the traumatic effects on your sex lives. (But, I SO want to hear what you thought of what you found!)