I haven’t written for a while. I will admit I’ve felt somewhat discouraged lately about my writing, so I stopped. No excuses, other than I am having a hard time getting this blog thing to take off. I’ve tried Tweeting the link, posting it on Duran’s FB page, sharing on FB, and tagging with every word I can think of to attract people, but I just am not getting the readers I envisioned. I am not a very patient person, anyone that knows me knows that, so after several posts and no real followers, I started thinking maybe I needed to focus on something that really mattered, something that could help people. When I had the idea of this blog and shared with my mom, she questioned the idea of incorporating Duran Duran into my story, saying that it might limit my audience. But, I held true to my vision and soldiered on for a while. Sadly though, the discouraged feelings really started setting in and that itch and excitement I felt at the beginning faded. I started to believe that maybe this WAS not the best idea, that maybe my writing just isn’t that great and blogging is a waste of time.
A couple weeks ago, I did some heavy soul searching, asking myself what it is that truly makes me happy and fulfilled. Of course spending time with my family and my kids is number one, but also listening to my favorite band and helping others and writing were top on my list. I realized at that moment that I am not writing to become famous or get thousands of readers, I am doing it for ME. If just one person reads it and likes it, that’s all I need. And I decided I am not going to change a thing about this blog, especially the Duran Duran references. This is my way of saying thanks to a band that has brought me joy in so many dark times. I just wish they could read it. Or at least another Duranie. Someone. Anyone. Is there anyone out there, anyone out there…
My blog is unique and won’t be everyone’s cup of English Breakfast. But if I touch at least one person, then I have done my job. And writing is good therapy. So here I am back at it.
On Wednesday, I was able to see my favorite band for the 3rd time this tour. It doesn’t get old. I was dancing my ass off the entire show, while I saw other fans sitting! Not sure how you could spend that much on floor tickets and sit still while there is such energy all around. Duran makes me forget about anything negative and stressful and I am in another world for 2 hours. What a great way to spend an evening with good friends I don’t often see. I want to go again. And again. And again.
I am at a point in my life where I want to make some changes. But that’s not always easy– I’m not 20 years old and single, able to do whatever I want whenever I want. I can’t just pick up and move to the beach, or quit my job to write full time. I realize this, but I also realize that life is too short and you need to be happy. There are a couple of things that are up in the air right now for me and the family, and I have been really hoping and praying this one ‘big thing’ happens for us. I know in my heart it’s right, but life has a way of going in directions that you can’t control. Of course if you’ve read my posts, you know that I really believe in signs and guardian angels. Once again, the other day I was headed to work and I had no idea what song was in queue on my shuffle to play. I was in one of those moods where I just want this so much that it exhausts me just thinking about it. None of the Above is a song from the Wedding Album–the album that brought Duran and I back together after a short break (sorry boys, I can’t imagine life without you now, but for a time I was forced into being a Stones and Zeppelin fan, not that there is anything wrong with that, but they aren’t you). The song never really had any meaning to me other than it was a catchy tune, but on this day as I was sitting in the usual rush hour traffic, I heard some lyrics that summed it all up perfectly. No matter what happens, I am enjoying myself right now and leaving it all up to the universe. Shouldn’t take a health scare to make you do that, but for me that is exactly what needed to happen. I know things will work out they way they should. And I am no longer afraid to be myself. I don’t care so much what others might think like I used to. And it feels amazing.
There was a time I was so afraid
Of everything people around me said
That I wanted to hide my face in the shadows
There was a time on a bed of nails
I was dreaming a plan I thought could not fail
But no power under the sun could pull it together
I can’t take this attitude
Got to show now I got to move on
God knows where I’m going to
Its a lonely burning question…
Cancer. It is something ugly that I dealt with in 2014. But that was then and this is now.
When the big C hit me in January 2014, there was still a Happy New Year Balloon dancing around the house, all cheery and colorful. When I bought it for the kids, it was with the belief and hope the new year would be an even better year than the one before. When that ball drops at midnight and you kiss your loved ones while clinking your glasses, you never think that maybe the new year won’t be that awesome and happy. You want it to be a great one, better than the last. But you just don’t know. I remember when I was diagnosed just staring at that damn balloon thinking how ironic it was because happy new year turned into crappy new year for me. I wanted to take a kitchen knife to that thing several times, but I just couldn’t do it. Call me superstitious.
It was a rough 2014, no doubt about it. But that year came and went, and I spent that NYE with my husband, kids and close friends in one of my favorite places, Disney. I always forget about things at Disney and I was so happy to see 2014 go. So when the fireworks started going off at midnight, I was thrilled to usher in 2015.
2015 was a pretty good year. I finished my treatments, and saw some new places. First time visiting Las Vegas (now I am hooked), Colorado, Seattle and to finish it off, went on a cruise to the Cayman islands and spent Christmas at Disney with my parents. I hoped 2016 would even be better, and it was.
I had a lot of quality family time–my husband, kids and I went to Vegas, Hoover Dam, Grand Canyon. We then went on another cruise and back to Disney, this time staying in a childhood favorite hotel of mine The Contemporary. It always makes me happy to see my kids at Disney enjoying themselves so much while remembering my childhood there. Nothing compares. I also celebrated my birthday with old friends and new ones watching Duran Duran perform in VEGAS. (I told you I am hooked!). That concert had me on my feet the entire time, I was even jumping up and down for many songs. I don’t dance like that, but there was something about seeing them and the music and what I had been through that just got me. I cried, sang, laughed, screamed like a teenager. The only thought I had about cancer was that I was so lucky to be there enjoying myself and that it was behind me.
One memory about 2016 that stands out is one that I firmly believe was arranged by a higher power.
Let me start this by saying that Duran Duran has not only gotten me through my cancer, but life in general. I am working on a book that goes into more depth on how their music has been my therapy, but lets just say that some of my darkest hours have been made better by simply hearing one of their songs. As I wrote in a previous post, the song “What Happens Tomorrow” got me through the darkest time after my diagnosis. I hadn’t listened to the radio in my car for about a week, I would just drive around numb in silence. One morning, I was really scared and asked for some sort of sign that I would get through it. I decided on the way to work that morning to turn on the radio for some noise in the car, and what came on blew me away. “What Happens Tomorrow” was just what I needed and I know someone from above was giving me the sign I begged for.
So, fast forward to September 2016. I had just gone through my second and last surgery for reconstruction (my 4th surgery since diagnosis) and Duran were playing at a small venue downtown. My husband got me really good seats and my friend Tina came down to see them with me. Side note: Tina is also a survivor, we met through an online support group and have become really close–proof that something amazing can come out of something horrible. When we met, we quickly learned that we both love Duran Duran so we always said we were going to see them together when they toured, never thinking it would be twice!
The concert was amazing, though I didn’t have quite the energy I had in Vegas because of my surgery. But that couldn’t stop me and I didn’t sit down, determined to keep going for my guys and show them the love they deserve.
Tina and I joked that maybe we would run into them downtown after the show, but never really thought it was possible and it never happened. The next day, Tina went back home and I went back to work after my surgery leave. A coworker and I were scheduled to go to lunch, but I tried to cancel, telling her we should just stay in the office and not venture out. It was too hot to walk around, and I was really tired from the surgery and the concert. She insisted, saying that she wanted to treat me for my birthday since we never celebrated. After several minutes of going back and forth on it, I gave in. We went to one of her favorite downtown restaurants in her favorite hotel. Before going to eat, she showed me around the hotel, pointing out the history and the beauty. What happened next blew me away.
While heading over to the restaurant, we turned the corner and right in front of me was John Taylor. I stopped dead in my tracks and looked at my coworker, not even believing what was happening. She knew how much I loved Duran and that I had been at the show the night before, so she put two and two together and realized that I was standing in front of one of them. I was speechless and borderline crying. Then Roger walked over from the concierge desk joining our little circle. This was too much–I had met John a couple of years ago, but he was behind a desk signing books and there were a lot of people in line, so it was rushed and not as personal. This was like magic. They were on their way out, so had we not walked around or if we arrived at that spot just a few minutes later, I would have never seen them. I couldn’t even relay how I felt to them and why I was so emotional. I wish I could have told them what their music has done for me and how it got me through. But I couldn’t utter much at all. John could see the emotion on my face and actually consoled me, he must have known the impact they made on me by my reaction. This meant so much to me– they were really nice about the whole thing, confirming my devotion to this band.
When I went back to work the next day, I couldn’t help but share my story with others. I told one person how the song came on that day giving me hope, and then how I ran into them at the hotel. She said that my guardian angel closed the loop for me–that I was given that song for hope and then arranged that meeting to signify the end of my surgery and cancer journey. It made so much sense and I truly believe that is what happened that day.
So 2016 was a great year. I am yet another year out from cancer, and I have memories I will never forget. I am going to spend the final hours of 2016 cherishing these memories.
I will admit tonight won’t be the easiest night–Duran Duran are playing in MD and my fellow Duranie Tina will be there ringing in the new year with them. I tried to make the trip work, but decided that it was too much to try to go. Now I regret it. I wish I could ring in 2017 with Tina and Duran Duran, but I will have to just live through her posts. Now I know how she felt when I met them after she headed home. I have heard they are adding dates in Texas in March, so I will hold onto that. I have to see them again, I’m kind of addicted.
I know you’ve said this before. Maybe it was on that cold and dreary Monday morning when you slept through the alarm, and your child couldn’t find matching socks which made you even later, then your dog threw up on the carpet, and just as you cleaned the last of it the hem on your pants ripped and then you had to drive to work in the middle of a torrential downpour in stopped traffic which made you late for an important meeting.
Or maybe it was opening the door to the house on a 100+ degree day and rather than feeling the cool relief of the a/c, you realize that there was no a/c — and bonus, you can’t fix it– you need a brand new unit.
Or maybe it was that one time you actually did a full-on grocery run, filling up the cart with a whole week’s worth of high-quality meats, organic milk, cheeses (you are the type of person that gets a few things here and there and goes to the store several times a week) only to put it all away and during the night the power goes out which spoils all the food.
Or maybe it was when you were sick during chemo and every day you begged your 13 year old sweet yellow lab to hang on for you through all of this. You could see her slowing down, but pleaded with her to be there to comfort you. You then watched her pass away right in front of you.
Or maybe it was right after surgery when you finally ventured out in public. You still had tubes coming out of both sides of you and you were still walking a little hunched over from the pain of your incisions. You were so excited to find that perfect decorative vase to go on the ledge by your front door, only to realize when you got up to the cash register that your wallet had been stolen right from your purse. But on a good note, in the midst of this you get the call from the surgeon that they found no evidence of cancer.
Life is full of “really” moments. And you can get hung up on them. I used to.
I now know that a plan has been written for me, but I was not given the details. It’s frustrating, but it is what it is.
Woe is me.
It’s not fair.
Yeah, I could have said that many times in my life. When I got the cancer diagnosis, I never said “why me”. I’ve always remembered that as bad as I thought things were in my life, there are people out there that have it much worse. I was dealing with a life threatening illness, so I could have really been pissed off and feeling sorry for myself. But I didn’t. What about the parents that lost their child while on vacation at the “Happiest” Place on Earth? What about them? What about the victims of Sandy Hook Elementary? The horror that they went through and the incredible loss the parents will never get over. What about people in other countries that are sick but can’t get medical care or even clean water to drink?
I will admit that while I never felt sorry for myself, I did complain and whine. It was my way of dealing with it. But then I think how could I complain that my water tasted so bad on chemo–at least it was clean and available and SAFE!
I don’t have it so bad.
Sometimes when you have a moment of despair and feeling sorry for yourself, you have to ask yourself if there are people out there that have it worse. Most times they do.
I just watched a news report about a family coming home from their kids football game. 4 kids in the car with their parents. Both parents killed.
It puts things into perspective.
I had cancer. I got treatment. I have scars. But I’m extremely lucky and blessed.
What has happened to it all?
Crazy, some are saying
Where is the life that I recognize?
But I won’t cry for yesterday
There’s an ordinary world
Somehow I have to find
And as I try to make my way
To the ordinary world
I will learn to survive…
I’ve been going back through my Caring Bridge journal entries to get material for this writing project. As I sit here, I know this happened to me but as I read some of the posts, it kind of feels like I’m reading someone else’s story. Although I just had my second surgery to put myself back together and still have doctor appointments every 3 months with the Oncologist, it all seems surreal. I think sometimes that I was keeping a stiff upper lip during it all and not letting it get the best of me, though at times I was scared shitless. But for the most part, I was strong. Stronger than I ever thought I’d be.
One thing that happens when you have cancer is you immediately miss your boring and uneventful life. You miss being a normal person– that is gone and now you are classified as someone with cancer. You are someone with a disability. And you never thought it would be you.
You miss the everyday routine things like lying in bed at night watching TV and laughing at an old episode of “King of Queens” before going to sleep. You miss bad traffic in the morning. You actually miss going to work, even if it’s a job you hate. You are jealous when you see others laughing and happy, because you are not. You miss the days when you complained about stupid stuff like endless laundry and kids shoes scattered all over the house.
I bought my kids their Valentines early, before any of this happened. I was at Target one day in early January and saw the candy, cards and plush on the shelves, thinking it was too early (I mean, Christmas was barely over), but I decided to get some things anyway since I was feeling festive. I put it away in hiding, having no idea what would change in my life between then and Valentines Day. It’s funny how you just assume in a few weeks, nothing will be different and you will just be celebrating a holiday with your kids like every other year. Here I was be-bopping along with my life, doing things like picking out candy and running to the post office. All while I had cancer growing inside of me, trying to kill me.
Trying to keep normalcy about everything, I helped the kids make their Valentine boxes for school and took them to the movies to see The Lego Movie. The song “Everything is Awesome” played over and over and that was all I could hear, I couldn’t even focus on the movie. How could everything be so freaking awesome when my life was such complete shit? Ironic.
This post is from the beginning of the cancer chapter of my story. I guess finding the humor in these things is the only way to go.
Journal entry by Kelly Dobrowolski — 2/17/2014
Well I went for my Pet Scan today. For those of you that are not familiar, it basically shows if this nasty Cancer is anywhere else in my body. Nerve wracking to say the least. Waiting for these results has me a bit anxious, but I have to think happy thoughts. I was cranky when I went in because I hadn’t eaten since 7 am and they delayed my appointment because they were running behind. So I was famished and caffeine deprived, and then given a huge container of banana “smoothie” liquid chalk to drink. UGH. The only highlight was that they put me in a private room with a comfy recliner, dim lights and a TV while I waited for my turn. I almost fell asleep it was so peaceful. Getting the test is kind of strange–they fasten your head so you don’t turn it and your hands are fastened to the table. Kind of felt like I was the subject of some sci-fi experiment.
When I went to pick up my kids, my mother in law had a big steaming bowl of pasta and a salad waiting for me, and boy did I eat! I think that’s the most I’ve had since I got this news.
So there are a few things that have happened so far that I just think are entertaining. I will share.
The report from the mammogram I had on February 5 states the following:
Findings were discussed with the patient in detail. The patient wishes to have this biopsy performed as soon as possible, however, did not want to have it performed today as she wanted to sleep with her husband.
FUNNY. What I said is that I wanted to talk to my husband, so not sure how that got mixed up. My mom says we can fix it, but I don’t know, I kind of like it the way it is. It is something that would happen to only me. And it made Michael and I laugh.
Right after I found out (he didn’t know anything at the time) my son Luke was whining about his runny nose, yelling that he hates being sick and it isn’t fair. Then he stomped out of the room yelling “I wish being sick was never invented.” True that.
Two “Happy New Year” balloons I bought the kids are still floating in the kitchen. I thought about going all crazy and stabbing them both with a kitchen knife, but I decided to let them float. The way I look at it is this may not be the best year of my life, but I have confidence that it will turn out happy in the end.
When you are going through cancer, or anything else traumatic, you don’t think you will ever see normal again when you are in it. But as I sit here, I am watching TV and laughing, annoyed at the kids shoes that are not put away.
If I had the choice, I would have cancer all over again.
That might seem completely ridiculous to you, but honestly it’s true.
Because I am working on this blog and my book, I’ve been forced to reflect on the last couple of years of my life and pull out memories — some bad, some good. I’ve been thinking of all the people I’ve met and grown close to because of this crappy disease, thinking of how much more I am enjoying life than I used to. Cancer also taught me a lot about myself–what I truly want to do in life, where I want my life to go. Right before I was diagnosed, I was in a classic RUT. I was so tired of being a spectator in life, a Facebook junkie, that would peruse other people’s lives and wonder why mine wasn’t fulfilling. I would see what other people were accomplishing, whether it was running a 5k, or landing a great new job. I wanted MY thing that made ME interesting. But I just couldn’t figure out how or what I truly wanted. And how to get there.
I have a great husband and family. I adore my kids more than anything in this world. I have a decent career and we live a comfortable life. But I still felt something was missing. I’ve always wanted to write a book, and a blog, but just wasn’t feeling the story. All the soul searching I was doing wasn’t getting me anywhere. Then BAM. Cancer came and while it was living hell, it changed so much in my life. For the better. As I sit here writing and writing and writing, I know that had to happen for this to happen.
Now, I want to make sure I note that while I’m happy about where my life is headed and a lot of it is because I went through a health crisis, I do not want that nasty C thing back ever again. And I don’t plan on it coming back. I despise the word cancer and what it has taken from so many people I care about. I hate the PTSD that I have to endure on a regular basis. Yes, cancer survivors have PTSD. And it sucks.
When I found out I had “nasty C thing”, I sat in bed and searched frantically for blogs, sites, anything I could read that would help. I stumbled across breastcancer.org and saw that there were chat boards where you could discuss things with other women in your situation. This was new territory for me, reaching out to complete strangers, but I needed to talk to someone that actually knew what I was feeling, not someone giving me advice or trying to comfort me with words that actually made things worse. Like the one time someone at work said, “My cousin had breast cancer. She died. But that was because she waited too long to get it checked out and she was advanced. But you-you caught it early!” (Yes, someone did actually say this to me, believe it or not. But I know she meant well…)
One day on the breast cancer site, someone posted that she was brand new to the site and starting chemo in March. Perfect, because that was going to be me too. Brand new to this hell ride with the chemo exit fast approaching, I started chatting with her. One by one our chemo group started to grow and it was becoming more difficult to keep up with the posts, so someone suggested we branch off to a private group in Facebook. And we’ve been friends ever since. From across the globe as far as New Zealand, and all over the US, women connecting and helping each other. We were talking each other off ledges, giving each other advice, listening. Only knowing each other through the world wide web, through typed messages and emoticons, we were still building a special bond just the same. As of today, some of us have met, but many of us have not. But I feel like I’ve known these women forever. I would have never had honor of meeting them, had I not had cancer.
We were doing this little thing in our group where we featured one person for a week, and that person would answer a questionnaire and share photos etc. It was a way for us to get to know more about each other on a personal level, vs only talking about “nasty c” This was so cool, because it truly showed how different we all were. One girl– an avid motorcyclist, one an environmentalist. There was a new mom who was pregnant while going through chemo. A world traveler. Some of these women had such amazing and interesting stories, that when I posted mine, I felt that it was a little, well, boring. Of course I mentioned my love for Duran Duran in my post, I had to. Tina reached out to me immediately when she realized we shared this love in common.
I met Tina about a year after we started chatting in the group. She was visiting San Antonio, so we went to lunch. I had only talked with her online at this point, but it was like lunching with an old friend whom I hadn’t seen in ages. I now understood how people could online date and fall for someone without meeting face to face! She was so much like me and I knew if she could ever meet my other friends they would click too. I knew this was more than a support group member, this was a lifetime friend. After meeting in person, Tina and I would talk a lot on the phone when either of us was having a bad day, or a PTSD moment, or just needed to vent. She had also been a recruiter, like me, so when I was having job issues she was the ear I needed, and she kept me sane.
We always said if Duran Duran went on tour we would meet up again and see them. At first, there were hardly any tour dates, so the likelihood of going was slim. But then we got word that they were adding dates for North America, we immediately got on the phone and started the planning. We decided Vegas was a good choice. Austin was near me of course, but it was too close to one of my major surgery dates and I could NOT risk not feeling well enough to go, so that was out. And Vegas was my birthday weekend, another bonus. It just was meant to be. I immediately called my best friend and “sister” Paula who has been with me through thick and thin and a Duranie since the 80s and pitched the idea to her. I thought how amazing it would be for her to meet Tina and have this weekend with such special friends. She was in. She was in need of a girls weekend like I was, so it didn’t take much convincing. And remember, she was not able to go to the 2005 concert because her dad passed away, so this would finally be our night to shine.
This trip was planned in January and I could hardly stand the anticipation for the months leading up to it. I searched high and low online for the right shirt we could all wear and I found it, “Duran Crazy” it said with John’s picture splashed on the front. Perfect, I thought as I placed 3 in my Amazon Prime cart. We all had to match after all!
This trip meant so many things to me.
A long awaited weekend getaway with an old and dear friend, my Bestie. We had done mini weekends in Florida before, but this was different. We were going somewhere away from kids and obligations. And it was a long time coming. We needed this time to reconnect, to bond.
It meant a reunion with Tina, who I considered a dear friend but had only met in person once, just for that lunch. Only this time it wouldn’t be a 2 hour conversation about our cancer experiences it would be FUN.
It meant a reunion with another member of our support group, who just happened to be in Vegas at a conference at the time, someone that Tina hadn’t met in person before.
It meant a trip down memory lane–Paula and I were going to see an old high school friend from the good old days, simpler days when life’s biggest challenge was picking which bar you would go to–would you stay in town and go to Joe’s and sing Wham at karaoke, or would you venture out to Albany where the bars were a bit cooler and people more interesting? Kent was a blast and I knew we would have lots of laughs again. And we’d meet his wife, also a Duranie!
This trip meant a new beginning.
When I got off the plane and waited for my luggage, I heard the loud dance music playing, signaling I wasn’t just anywhere, but in VEGAS. Right there as I watched the bags going round and round the carousel, I got emotional. I was excited to see Paula and get the weekend started, I was excited to see Tina and introduce them, and I was excited to see my boys. I had to fight the urge to bawl as I pulled my bag off the belt.
Tina had brought her cousin Samantha and all of us immediately clicked. It was like we were all old friends that hadn’t seen each other in a long time. As we clinked our champagne glasses and toasted the weekend, I forgot all about cancer. ALL ABOUT IT.
When we got to the Mandalay Bay, we were all beside ourselves. All decked out in our shirts, buzzed on drinks and high on seeing Duran, we were having the time of our lives. The opening act was incredible, Chic put on one hell of a dance party. The songs “We are Family” and “Good Times” pretty much summed up the weekend. And Nile Rodgers talked about his cancer diagnosis and how he was told to get his affairs in order. But he survived and has been cancer free for 5 years. Filled with emotion I screamed out in support. F U cancer!
When the lights went down signaling that Duran Duran was about to start, I was still out in the lobby area coming back from the restroom. I went into full on panic mode. I couldn’t miss the opening song! I frantically pulled my ticket from my purse, and ran to the first entry point I saw, not even checking to see if it was my section. Nope. “Your section is down that way,” the attendant said pointing down yonder. He could see how distressed I was, so he let me in and I ran at top speed to get to my seat. JUST IN TIME. The thunder and lightning effects started and the lights finally came on to reveal DURAN DURAN.
I sang at the top of my lungs. I screamed. I cried when they played Ordinary World, Come Undone and Save a Prayer. So many emotions and feelings came over me at that show and it was the most amazing feeling. I was saying goodbye to the past and “nasty C” and hello to my new life. I was reliving some of the good times of my past through songs like The Reflex, and creating new memories and letting go with new ones like Pressure Off. This was my movie soundtrack.
I’m not gonna sleep tonight
Till the morning fills the sky
No one’s getting left behind
This is our time
This is our time!
We’re gonna live this night, yeah
Live it like it’s our last night
I am seriously going through duranwithdrawals. What a cool year right? Duran Duran released their AWESOME album Paper Gods a year ago, and fans across the US got to see this amazing band perform shows that were so full of energy and life that even I was dancing for the entire show–right after my 4th surgery! I was lucky enough to go to 2 shows on the tour–Vegas and San Antonio. And in between the concerts, watching the Facebook roll calls from all of the cities was so much fun, it really made me feel I was on the road with them.
I, like many fans out there, am feeling depressed now that this North American tour has come to a close. I still have their Facebook page, but that is simply not enough. So I decided I want to share my stories of Duran Duran–how they’ve gotten me through my younger years, bad breakups, how my guardian angel has used Duran Duran over and over to give me signs, how they saved me from the dark hell of cancer.
I tried blogging before, but it never took off. I couldn’t think of things to post every day, so I gave up. So I wanted to start this new site by posting something I wrote a few years ago. Before the shit hit my fan and rocked my world (I’ll talk more about my cancer in future posts) I had one of the best nights of my life. But thankfully it wouldn’t be the last!
This was written after I met JT in 2012, at his book signing for “In The Pleasure Groove”.
Duran Duran has been my favorite band since I was an awkward teenager in braces at 14. I fell in love with them when I first heard “Is There Something I Should Know”. The music caught my ear, but one band member in particular, John Taylor, caught my eye among other things (come on girls, you know what I’m talking about!) While my love for this band and JT has evolved into more of an appreciation for their actual talent vs. hormonal teenage lust, it is still love nonetheless. And I was able to meet him.
The first D2 album I actually bought was “Seven and the Ragged Tiger”. I bought the cassette and practically wore it out within a couple weeks. It really sucked back then when you had to rewind a tape to play a song again! That tape was all I listened to. When I realized that I couldn’t get enough of their songs and was hungry for more, I bought the album “Duran Duran”, this time on vinyl because I knew there might be more pictures of the band and maybe lyrics inside (God I miss that). From this point forward it was all Duran all the time. Sure I liked Tears for Fears, A-ha, Simple Minds, but no one even came close to Duran.
My obsession started with me simply tearing a Duran Duran picture out of a Teen Beat magazine one day thinking “hey, I really like these guys” as I taped it to my wall, to me buying every last poster that was sold and covering every inch of my bedroom walls with their faces. I was spending my hard-earned babysitting cash buying everything I could with their picture or logo on it, from key chains and tee shirts, to painters caps and puffy stickers. I, like many teen girls at the time, even started trying to dress like them, buying a grey fedora and white Capezio shoes.
I owned every Duran video so my fellow Duranies and I could pause them on John and watch him in slow motion. The one video that never failed to make my friends and I scream with hormonal fervor was Save a Prayer, especially the scene where John was seated on an elephant–shirtless mind you–and the elephant was spraying water on him making him laugh. We died and went to heaven every time we watched that clip. I also wore out my copy of the Sing Blue Silver documentary, where they filmed their ’84 tour. As I watched all the other girls screaming and going crazy at the shows, I dreamed of the day I would get to see them in person. I never thought it would come.
The first time I saw John play live was with The Power Station, the band John and Andy formed with Tony Thompson and Robert Palmer. We had nosebleed seats way up in the balcony and couldn’t see the stage without binoculars, but the fact that we were in the same place HE was, listening to him play that bass LIVE, well, it was just too much to take. I can’t believe I didn’t pass out. I actually wore the fedora and those shoes to that concert, what a nightmare look for a girl. I actually thought if he saw me, he would be impressed with my wardrobe choice and think I was simply adorable. Braces, baggy clothes and all.
Then Duran Duran got back together, well almost. It was only three of them this time–John, Nick and Simon–to do the Notorious album and Strange Behaviour tour. It was 1987. They announced that they were going to be in Saratoga, NY and I died. I couldn’t believe they would be near enough for me to see them! I mean, I had Power Station memories, but this was Simon and Nick too! It was all I could think about! Not only was I going, but my dad, knowing how crazy I was for Duran Duran, arranged for a big, shiny, Wedding Singer-ish limo to take me and four other crazed friends to the show for a birthday gift. We were 17 and not only going to see them, but going in style. With a Chauffeur. We also got seats that were in the 10th row, a far cry from the Power Station show. I couldn’t take it–it totally consumed me. We crafted a banner from an old white sheet and adorned it with their traditional DD logo, a few other Duran drawings and a huge red heart, and we swore that Simon pointed to it and said something to us during the show (of course now I really don’t think that happened-we were delusional). We were absolutely delirious and high on Duran. All night after that concert, my friends and I relived it, playing the songs in the order that they played them, reminiscing about what Simon said and how John looked. We were living examples of what Strange Behaviour looked like! I have to say that even to this day, it was one of the best, most memorable nights of my life. I recently happened upon a You Tube video of the concert. Sigh.
I saw Duran Duran live again in 2005. I was 6 months pregnant, and headed down to Florida to visit my also pregnant best friend who had been there with me in the ’80s through the videos, both concerts, the limo, the screaming (she’s the one in the middle of the Power Station pic with the sweet NECKTIE). We had plans to see the original five back together–it was going to be a special night for us. But her dad passed away the morning I was flying in, so she couldn’t make the concert, which put a damper on what was supposed to be a perfect night. Still, I was on my swollen feet singing every song (knowing all the words mind you) and dancing with my pregnant belly, maternity pants and all, wishing the whole night that she could be there.
Years went by, my babies were born, and I kept up with Duran Duran, buying the albums as they were released just like I did when I was a teenager. I loved all of the songs, despite some of the negative reviews that were out there. I know even the best get slammed every now and then, but I don’t like it when people trash talk my guys! I always wished that John or Simon would write a memoir, so when I heard that John finally wrote one, I was ecstatic. I counted down the days until it came out. I kept reading on Facebook that he was doing book signings, and wondered what it would be like to actually meet him. I felt the same twinges of jealousy toward the lucky people in those cities that I did when I watched “Sing Blue Silver”. I kept checking for San Antonio Texas–of course, nothing. I gave up, but still eagerly anticipated the book release.
When browsing Facebook one day, I just happened to stumble across a comment on a Dallas friend’s post about the book tour. One of her friends mentioned that he was going to Austin, and it sucked that it wasn’t closer to her. I couldn’t believe it.
“John is coming to Austin. Austin is 90 minutes away from me.” I repeated over and over in my head. Then I started making excuses as to why I couldn’t go.
It was scheduled for a Friday night, so that meant I would have to make arrangements at work to get there on time. Then I would have to find someone to come with me–we wouldn’t have a sitter that night, so my husband couldn’t make the journey, and frankly I knew he really didn’t want to see his wife acting irrationally. I couldn’t think of anyone else that liked them like I did, so I wasn’t sure who to invite. Plus I absolutely hate driving, especially in rush hour to a place I am not familiar, it’s completely out of my comfort zone. But excuses and all, I just couldn’t get the thought of meeting him out of my head and the regret I would feel if I missed it. So on a whim, I asked my much younger friend who was only a baby when Duran Duran was at their peak to join me on this adventure. She agreed to come. This was actually going to happen! I went online to purchase my tickets–they weren’t sold out as I feared they may be at this point. And only 10 bucks! How could meeting JT only be 10 bucks???? Fate was on my side because the very next day the tickets were gone.
The day of the signing, I had the nervous stomach that you have when you are about to go on a first date–the butterflies, the near puking feeling. I could barely eat that day, and focusing on work was another issue. The day crawled along until it was 3:00. Time to go!
Nervously navigating my black Honda Odyssey minivan through heavy Austin rush hour traffic while listening to old Duran tunes and quizzing my young friend if she knew this one and that one, I was brought back to 1987–sitting with my fellow Duranies in that black stretch limo headed for the concert, giddy with delight about seeing our guys screaming and signing Duran Duran songs. I felt the same feelings I did as the 17 year old me.
As we stood in line waiting to get in, the stories started to fly. Here I was with fellow Duran fans, sharing our ‘careless memories’. I suddenly realized that I was not even close to being the biggest fan I believed I was for all those years (surely I spent the most time and money, sweat and tears on this band, right?). We all were the biggest fans. We all did the exact same things–pausing videos to scream, buying anything and everything Duran. We even started to try and one-up each other with our tales, and I found at times I couldn’t win! Some of the girls still had old souvenirs and mementos, mine were long gone. The one thing I had that most of them didn’t though, was that I was still a huge fan, it wasn’t just nostalgia. I actually owned all the newer albums that most of them didn’t. I couldn’t stop singing Duran Duran’s praises. At one point, someone in line said I should do PR for them. (I’m working on that.)
My friend got us seats a few rows back from the stage, then went out to grab some drinks for us so I wouldn’t miss anything. While sitting there alone waiting for him to come out, I was anxious. The story sharing continued with some other women in the audience, but I was zoned out–too busy planning what I would say in my head to really focus on any more trips down memory lane. I admired this person so much and wanted him to know what he meant to me. My friend returned and I downed the cheap house red wine she brought to calm my nerves, spilling some on my precious book. Luckily, it wiped off easily with my sweater sleeve. Whew. I wanted to tell him something witty and funny, because that is what I do best–make people laugh with my stories. I thought maybe I could make a joke, then mention something only a true fan would know, like his solo song “I Do What I Do To Have You” which would indeed impress him. We would have a nice chat, a laugh or two, and he would think to himself, “wow, that girl is cool”. I was snapped back to reality when I noticed a tall dark figure pass the doorway through the lobby area. “It’s him”, I shrieked to my friend who was now laughing at me. When he finally came out on stage, I was bubbling with excitement, fighting the urge to get on my feet and scream JOHN while throwing my bra or some piece of clothing on stage. What the hell was happening to me? I wish I could say it was the wine, but it was something else.
I calmed down and really enjoyed the presentation. The reading was incredible– John was funny, witty, smart and still looking good. Way to go JT! I was very impressed by him, by the road he traveled and where he is today. I forgot for a minute that there was still more to this night–meeting him. Again, I was a mess.
My friend was a trooper the whole night, taking care of me like she was my mother. While in line waiting for the signing, I was progressively growing more nervous and shaky. Whatever cool I thought I had in me was slipping away fast. I tried to pull myself together and kept telling myself that he is just a person, that this is a cool experience and nothing to get worked up about. I then got the idea that I would ask him if he could say a quick hello to the friend that could not be at the concert in 2005 and another friend that couldn’t be at the signing. It was all going to be fine.
I neared the stage and knew that this may not go well at all. When I caught the first close-up glimpse of him sitting behind the desk signing books, I could feel my heart practically jump out of my chest. I was feeling vertigo and would definitely trip up the stairs if I didn’t get a grip. Wouldn’t that be a scene! My hands were really shaking at this point. I was getting the phone ready to take my video but worried that I wouldn’t be able to do it right with my frayed nerves. All I could hear is my friend saying she would get pictures, not to worry. I couldn’t feel my legs, but I was walking, each step closer to ‘the moment’. I was a freaking basket case. As I climbed the stairs all I could hope for is that I wouldn’t fall flat on my face. I reached the top and there HE was, right in front of me.
If a psychic would have told me in 1987 that I would be here in this moment standing right in front of JOHN TAYLOR, I would have just died right there after screaming for about 30 minutes.
I managed to mumble, “would you say hi to my friends Paula and Amy please” and he looked up at me and said “hi Paula and Amy please” flashing that same smile that I remember from all those years ago. Age may have put a few lines on his face, but didn’t take that smile. It was right then that I completely and utterly lost it. “THANK YOU OH MY GOD I LOVE YOU SO MUCH I WASN’T SURE WHAT I WOULD SAY TO YOU UP HERE” the words just flew from my mouth in the most high pitched squealing tone you’ve ever heard. I was not talking, someone else was. It was the 17 year old me. I had officially lost my mind. I blew it!!!
“I think you found the words” he said back with another smile.
I tried to get my iPhone to go back to camera mode so I could capture this smile forever, but I couldn’t work the phone at this point. I wasn’t even sure if I got the video. I was quite simply an utter mess. I was even asked very firmly by one of the assistants to leave the stage, you know, to let others get their books signed–this wasn’t all about me. I should have felt like crawling into a hole, but I was too elated for that. I MET JOHN TAYLOR. The embarrassment would come later as I watched the video back on my phone and could hear my squeals of delight.
Is it bad when you’re feeling this good?
Are we all misunderstood?
It’s fine, going out of my mind
Going out of my mind, going out of my mind
Pressure Off, Paper Gods
Note: Little did I know then that it wouldn’t be the first time I would meet a member of Duran Duran, but more on that in another post…