Tag Archives: Moms

Here By Intervention

I want your attention

This morning, I woke up to a text from my daughter’s boyfriend. I watched the short little iPhone video clip, immediately recognizing music from the song “1985”. Turns out, the video was of my daughter Heather, bravely belting the karaoke song, in a very crowded bar. It appears to be a post-graduation celebration with many other gr long after yours truly went back to her hotel room with kids, husband, dogs and a wayward grandma in tow. (is it weird that even as I sit here writing, I’m slightly jealous – I could have used some celebrating and light-hearted fun that night myself!!)

Now, while I do still have this video, and will keep it for future use when she least expects it – I can’t share it here, unfortunately. I actually enjoy living, as it turns out. I will say though, that the shout-out to mom was VERY obvious as she sang the line “thought she’d get a hand on a member of Duran Duran”.

Best. Thing. Ever.

The thing is, as much as I know singing this song was indeed a way of poking good natured fun at me, the-mom-who-writes-a-blog-about-Duran-Duran (and who wouldn’t chuckle about that anyway?!?), I love it. I know the song “1985” wasn’t an ode written for me. However, Bowling for Soup may as well have been living at my house, or even down my street when they wrote it. I own it all, too. Proudly. I mean, what else can I really do? Guilty as charged!!

Hits you with a groove

As I was chuckling to myself over the video this morning, it made me think back to my dad. When he passed away, the one main request he had for his funeral was that we would see him off by playing “Everybody Wants to Rule the World” by Tears for Fears.

That’s a strange song to play at a memorial. Truth be told, I don’t think my dad ever actually listened to the words at all. He just loved the tune. Back in 1985 (I wish I were kidding about the year – but I can’t make this up!), my mom and dad bought a motor home. That summer, and each one following for the next several years, we took a two-week camping trip as a family. It was required attendance for my sister and I, so we took turns choosing music to play on the stereo as my dad drove. Much of my musical choice was—Duran Duran of course—but after a while they were outlawed in the motor home. Apparently my dad got sick (*gasp*) of them. So, I put on Tears for Fears. “Everybody Wants to Rule the World” came on, and next thing I knew, my dad was bopping his head going down the highway to this song.

From that day on, that song was his most frequent request. It played each and every time we went camping, whether the two-week summer trip, or a quick weekend getaway. I began to equate the song with my dad, and now—I can’t think about the song without a memory of being in the motor home, sitting at the table watching my dad bob his head in time to the music as we ambled down the highway. It is both a comforting, as well as bittersweet, image forever burned in my head.

We covered all the angles

Aside from that, and a wayward Beach Boys song that may or may not have my name in it, I don’t really have musical memories that align directly with my parents. Both of them did like Elvis Presley, and I suppose that when I do hear him, I do think of my mom and dad. (Which is rare, I must say – for being The King, I rarely hear Elvis’ music today. Isn’t that interesting?) I have definitely left a lasting legacy for my kids. My “mark” has been deeply engraved into 80s pop culture, and I’m not sorry.

All three of my children liberally tease me about playing “Hungry Like the Wolf” at my funeral. We are kind of dark that way, I guess, talking about my inevitable end as though it is a joke – but it’s how me and my kids roll. In any case, I laugh at them in response, all the while promising to haunt them for all eternity should they happen to pick that song.

Let’s face it – they are totally going to blare that one, for all the planet to hear when my time has come. Well played, Duran Duran. Well played.

Hate to bite the hand that feeds me

Every time Heather is out and about and happens to hear Duran Duran, I get texted, as though I’m personally responsible. Even Gavin—my quieter, less bombastic child, chuckles when he recognizes a song, TV show reference, or something else entirely. It is my legacy, or as they prefer to call it—my curse.

My youngest is still at the stage where she will sing along to Paper Gods. She still loves “Last Night in the City” and “Pressure Off”. She’s not as familiar with their other albums because I’ve had THAT one in my car for so long now – literally half of her life at this point. Even so, every so often she’ll be humming as she’s doing math problems, and more often than not it is some super obscure Duran Duran song I didn’t even know she knew. For example, last week she was singing “American Science”.

I don’t know how that happens, but I love that it does. I may not have taught my kids very much – but they do know Duran Duran. It is my lasting legacy. Or my curse. You’re welcome, kids.

-R

My biggest personal moment (2018 edition)

DDHQ asked a very interesting question this morning. “What is your biggest personal moment with Duran Duran?”

Rather than try to think about the most mindblowingly huge moment I’ve ever had with Duran Duran, I decided to read through the responses. I wasn’t quite sure what I would read, but I was curious.

So many people attribute things like marriages, births and yes, even divorces to the band. Others wrote about meeting their best friend, or seeing the band live for the very first time. Quite a few wrote about meeting the band, and some have even had opportunities to interview one or more of them. Still others recalled career changes, or major directional changes in life. I sat back, kind of overwhelmed, really.

What would be my own answer?

I’m not exactly sure I have one. I mean, there was that time I regained consciousness hearing Hungry Like the Wolf in the background. That memory always comes to mind first with questions like this because I was giving birth to my youngest, and I’d flatlined on the table – which is absolutely RIDICULOUS (but it’s a true story), and that damn song, combined with a baby – MY baby – crying, is what I first heard when the medicine they’d given me to counteract whatever the hell was going on with my heart at the time finally took hold. No, I can’t even have a baby without a little drama.  But really, was that a huge moment?

Yeah, I guess it was. For me, anyway. (I have a very dry, slightly inappropriate, and always sarcastic sense of humor that doesn’t always come across well in print unless you know me personally. Read that here.)  But the band wasn’t even there!! (Thank goodness, actually.)

What else do I have? I did meet Amanda because of Duran Duran. There’s that. She’s very important to me, obviously. I can honestly and truly say that if it weren’t for her, and my loyalty to her, this blog wouldn’t still exist, not to mention that our friendship keeps me going. She and I met at the Duran Duran fans convention in New Orleans back in 2004. I’ve known her for nearly fourteen years now!

I saw the original lineup for the first time back in 2003. You’d think that seeing all five of them together would have completely changed me – I mean, they were a huge part of my childhood, and apparently much of my adulthood, as it turns out. But in those moments as I stood back in like, the 16th row or something, all I could think about was how “out of it” I really was. I saw all of these people hugging one another and talking before the show. It was the first time I’d ever really paid attention or seen anything like that. I wanted to know how they knew one another. “Do fan clubs still exist?” I thought to myself as I waited for the band to take the stage.  I wanted to be a part of something like that. Even so, was this one of my biggest moments? Probably not.

No, if I really had to pinpoint a moment – it would have to be the show I saw at the House of Blues a couple of years prior. I know that Amanda and I have written about our biggest moments before, and perhaps my answers have been different each time (would not surprise me), but as I answer this now with a bit more wisdom and history behind me – it was that show which changed everything.

I’d gone about ten years in between Duran Duran shows, I believe. I’d graduated college, gotten married, moved to and from Illinois, and had two children during that time. (I’m tired just from writing all of that!) My ears would perk up any time I’d hear their name, or a song came on the radio – but in a lot of ways I felt like I’d moved on. Also – becoming a wife and mom changed me. I’d kind of forgotten who I was in all of that, and instead, I was just a shell of a person.

I really can’t remember what I was like back when my two oldest were very small, but I think about myself as though I must have been on autopilot. I fed them, clothed them, cleaned the house, and made dinner. I drove them to and from school, did my chores, and in some sort of a last-ditch effort to find some sort of fun out of all of the drudgery (and yes, with parenting there can be a lot of drudgery, particularly if you’re isolated as a stay-at-home parent. Not everyone is cut out for that, even if you WANT to be), I joined the MOMS Club.

I feel like maybe a lot of people are not familiar with MOMS Club, so let me explain. It is an international support group for moms, specifically stay-at-home moms, particularly due to the isolation thing I mentioned above. The idea is that a lot of clubs or groups don’t allow moms to bring their kids along – which makes being involved very difficult. So the MOMS Club solves that by insisting that every single event on the calendar (planned by local chapters) be kid friendly.

That’s all fine and good, but sometimes, moms just want to get out. Where’s THAT group??

After a while, not even MOMS Club sufficed. I think it boiled down to the fact that I wasn’t necessarily very happy. Don’t get me wrong, I loved my kids. I loved being a mom…it just wasn’t enough. But, if you talk to me (even now) for any length of time, it will become very apparent that I wish that I’d given myself the chance to have a real career. I still do – and that’s one of my deepest, darkest secrets.

Now, if you’re wondering how that has anything to do with Duran Duran, stay with me.

It was during this period of time that I went to that Duran Duran show at the House of Blues in 2001. I didn’t even want to go at first, but my husband convinced me. (I didn’t want to spend the $65 a ticket. I laugh about that now. If only I knew what I would spend on tickets several years later….)  I didn’t even want to stand in line for a good spot that night, opting to go eat before the show. I stood near the steps in the back, figuring that I’d head to the bar during the show. I mean, it was just Simon and Nick at the time, with Warren I guess, but I didn’t care. I figured I’d see them, lament over how they weren’t the same, and then go home.

Instead, something very bizarre happened to me that night. Simon came out on stage, grabbed the microphone, and I had an out-of-body experience. It was like something woke up in me and I was getting a glimpse of myself back at 13. I liked it. I can barely remember much of the show, but I can tell you that I have never felt anything like it. I came home, found duranduran.com, read the message boards, and never looked back.

I met Amanda in 2004. We immediately joked about writing a book. We’ve written a few manuscripts and we haven’t stopped – someday, something will get published, or we’ll die trying. I do have a job now – one that I love, but it’s not really a true “career” since it’s just part-time. I also have this blog, which has kept me alive (and I mean that in the truest sense of the word).  I’m still working on the career thing, but I feel like I actually have a life now, which is a start.

Yes, I’ve met the band. I’ve gone places, seen great shows, done amazing things, and have great friends and memories. But none of that would have happened without that show in 2001 at the House of Blues in Anaheim. I am forever grateful.

-R