Band of admirers becomes hit-making band of rockers

Kat Richardson
Staff Writer

    I have had a horrifying (and absurd) thought. Every single person that I have ever been romantically involved with has the potential to join forces against me in what could be the ultimate form of public humiliation: chart-topping rock band.
   For the most part, I tend to go for the artistic types (musician, actor, professional depressive, etc.).
   I'm talking about the kind of guy who always wears the same faded t-shirt with the same esoteric band logo on it; who sits at the back of the classroom and scribbles bits of unintelligible poetry instead of taking notes (something about hearts and icicles); whose glasses are so thick and hair so curly that they look like lost members of The Strokes; whose overall demeanor is always so sad and gloomy that even Morrissey is like, "Dude, lighten up."
   For years, these guys were the silent minority, the misrepresented who attended every high school in America and were known by everyone, but not really known (if you believe their poetry, that is).
   Of all those out there, I have been involved with three musicians.
   And, since musicians tend to run in tight circles, I think it's a perfectly legitimate concern that these three might meet and decide to start a band together.
   For their protection, I have changed their names to ones that I think are better than the originals.
   I haven't yet figured out what the title of the band would be, but it's certain to include the words "Kat" and "troll."
   The first member of the band would be Caleb, my junior high romance who swept me off my feet ... and right into the punch bowl of the 8th grade dance.
   He was a cute, funny, smart pianist who idolized Judy Garland and loved to bake.
   According to his MySpace profile, his orientation is "questioning."
   Since the piano is technically considered a percussion instrument, he'll be on drums.
   Next up is Sebastian, my 11th grade love, who used me to get to my much fatter friend Veronica, whose name I have not bothered to change.
   He played bass in a band called 5th Hour, which played songs in the key of Creed, without all the Jesus thrown in.
   Lastly would be Bob, the guitarist/singer and also the most recent of my affairs.
   When I first met Bob, he had a scraggly hobo beard, smelled kinda funny and was wearing a Willy Wonka t-shirt that said "drugs" and "serial killer" on it.
   Of course I fell in love with him. He played guitar and sang lead vocals in a band called Copernicus Welcome, so my assumption would be that he'd do the same in this as-yet-untitled humiliation project.
   Since I intend to become a music journalist, I'm sure that it will be my duty to write about this up-and-coming band for Spin, Rolling Stone or possibly even CosmoGirl. I will be sure to give them a bad review.

Tell a friend about this article