Hi, My Name is Rhonda

Good morning, Duranies!!!

I have approximately 30 minutes to write about something that could easily take hours, and then I’ve got a full day of homeschooling a less-than-motivated 10 year old (with the attitude of a 13 year old) along with laundry and grocery shopping ahead. Yay me!!

Today though, I’m going to write about being a fan. Now I can hear you saying, “Don’t you do that every day???” Yes, I suppose so, on some level. However, there’s more to it than that…which is really the point I’m about to make.

Those words are all remainders

I had a conversation this weekend with someone who may or may not be known as the touring guitarist for Duran Duran. We had a very short chat about being a fan. As odd as it seems, I think I dislike being “labeled”. Just think about it for a minute. I go through my entire day here at home, and I’m almost never addressed by my actual name. I’m “mom”, most of the time. That is followed closely by “Daily Duranie”, “fan”, and then “dear”.

My name is Rhonda. I don’t really mind hearing someone call me by my real name all that much. That’s one reason why I made sure Dom (yes, that Dom) knew my name back when we met, and not just “that-crazy-fan-who-writes-the-blog”. He meets tons of people all the time, and yet I had the nerve to quiz him several times about my name. More on that later.

He never forgot my name, by the way. For some really weird reason, that small, seemingly silly thing made me see he was a real person. He wasn’t just a musician…a rock star…who didn’t care about the people he was meeting.

I’m changing my name

Identity is huge, isn’t it? For example, I know that I’m identified by this community, most likely members of DDHQ, and perhaps even the band and support people as “Daily Duranie”. They know me as a fan, and a big one at that.

Now, that word “fan” has a certain connotation to it. I’m no dummy. I’m well-aware of both the positive and negative attributes associated with the term. l am both proud, and a little weary of the word myself.

As I explained this weekend, sure, I’m a fan. There’s no getting around that at this point. I write a blog that is happened to be named DAILY Duranie. Some might automatically assume that makes me Mayor of Crazyville. I hate that part. Truly, 100% despise it.

I wouldn’t say that you were ruthless or right

It’s funny. In order to write this post, I keep typing things and then I delete them, thinking it’s too much or that I want to keep the conversation private. The truth is, in order to really explain my point, I have to share the context. I hope this post makes it back to Dom though because he needs to read it. Obviously.

I had just finished saying something to him that his problem (with me specifically) was that he sees me just as a fan. I’m one of thousands in an audience. I can imagine where some of you are going in your heads with those words…let me explain before you freak out. Context is key.

He’d asked me where I was at the shows. I told him I had been in 4th row that night. He was incredulous because he said he had been looking for me. He actually accused me of sitting on *gasp* John Taylor’s side. Indignantly, I replied that I had been on HIS side (thankyouverymuch), and followed up with my comment about being a fan. Making the point that because I’m just a fan to him, I was just one in a giant sea of faces. One of thousands. How on earth could he possibly see me anyway?

Can’t tell the real from reflections

Again, don’t read more into his looking for me than what he said. I’ve known Dom since Andy quit. We met on a plane to New Orleans. Yes, I knew who he was, but at the time… he was just some guy standing in for my favorite guitar player. No one really knew him. Most fans just accepted that he was the session player. Then the band announced the split and that Dom would fill in for a while. Those were big shoes to fill, and I saw how people treated Warren when he joined. Hell, for that matter I knew how *I* felt about Warren. This felt very different. Talking with him on the plane was easy. I couldn’t help but like him. So I’d regularly wave at him when I’d go to shows after that, while he was onstage. Usually, he’d see me immediately. Almost like we were being friendly. Imagine that!

As an explanation that came a few years back, Dom told me I was one of the few familiar and friendly (see? friendly!!) faces he saw at shows, so yeah, he looks for people he recognizes. He mentioned that he usually finds me near the front with all of the die hard fans. Of course now there are many, many, fans he knows. Oh, there’s that word again. Oops. Anyway, the point was that we were teasing one another about his not seeing me on Saturday night, until he answered my comment about being just a fan to him with, “Well, you ARE a fan.”

I visibly bristled. On one hand, he isn’t wrong. I AM a fan of Duran Duran. I’ve loved them since I was ten. I go to shows, write blogs, watch videos, etc, etc. Yep, I’m a fan. No doubt about it.

When all these faces look the same to me

I’m a fan of a lot of people and things. My daughter Heather is a dancer/choreographer, and I attend every performance possible. I cheer for her, buy tickets to see her (Oh yes, even for my daughter – there are no free rides!!), and applaud the competition teams she coaches. I have friends who are in other rock bands, too. Seeing their shows, going backstage, and even wildly cheering for them, are all things I do in support of them. I’m their friend, and I’m a fan of their work. I am proud of what they do.

When I think about Duran Duran though, my feelings are a little different right now. They are people I’ve never really met, beyond a quick hello at a signing. I put posters of them up on my wall, and I’ve waited for them outside of venues. They were my idols, particularly when I was growing up. I never imagined I’d ever meet them, nor did I ever fathom writing a daily blog…about anyone for that matter.

Even so, just as I replied to Dom that night, I don’t really follow any of them anywhere after a show. I haven’t been backstage, or to afterparties. I have ended up at the same place, but only out of silly, dumb, luck. I’ve never “stalked” any of them, or waited for hours in lobbies, or outside of restaurants, or even at their homes. Some might even say I’m terrible at being a fan if all of these things act as the litmus test. I mean, think about this: after meeting Dom in 2006, I have seen Duran Duran approximately 42 times. Out of those 42 possibilities, I have spoken in person to Dom maybe five times, and I think that’s probably an overestimate. I have taken a picture with him just one time. Just once! I’m a fan, but I’m pretty sure I suck at it.

No steel reproaches on the table from before

I would imagine that some might assume from this blog post that I think I’m entitled. I can hardly wait for those emails and comments to come rolling in! That’s not really the point I was trying to make, either with Dom, or in this post. Make no mistake. I know I’m a fan. It’s the connotations that go along with it that bother me, I guess.

Much of that feeling comes from writing this blog. People assume Daily Duranie is synonymous with “obsessive.” I hear the judgment all the time. “Oh, they’re fans.” Sure, some people can be overzealous. I get it. Unfortunately those people tend to be louder than the rest. Then there’s the people who act normally, and are there gathering because they’re friends with one another. There’s even a few people who make it past that barrier and genuinely become friends or even more, in SPITE of originally being fans. *gasp, shock, awe…horror*

I can still feel those splinters of ice

I wasn’t in that bar that night because I thought anybody from the band would be there. Usually, I’m dead wrong about where anyone is going to be anyway! I was there because I wanted to see my friends. Turns out, some of my friends happen to be involved with the band, in one way or another.

So in short, yes, I’m a fan. I’m also a pretty damn good friend along with a thousand other things.

My name is Rhonda, by the way.

-R

(took WAY longer than 30 minutes…)

2 thoughts on “Hi, My Name is Rhonda”

  1. The only one who could recall my name was Andy, because my name is Spanish and … o yes, we all know where he lives.
    This writing of yours inspired me to do one on my own that I’ll share on the (agonizing) DD VIP Forum.
    The point is your ease of saying about your meeting with Dom, with that kind of openness and simplicity
    My blog won’t read any offensive or obscene, just I hope you can catch the irony when due.
    I encourage you to carry being Rhonda and being the Dom’s fan that you are.
    Thanks for being (once again) thought-provoking.

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