Loves Music; Loves Being a Dork

There are many things I like being married: having my own personal chef/bug killer on hand, being able to intuit each other’s thoughts & moods, the free-standing invitation to kiss when & wherever we like.  Today, however, I want to write about one specific benefit.  If you’re fortunate to be with your soul mate or something like it, you get to be yourself in wonderfully dorky ways without any fear of rejection.

Case in point: July 29th was Geddy Lee’s birthday & to celebrate, Kurt & I watched Beyond the Lighted Stage the following weekend.  Now, we’ve watched this documentary before with, let’s say, interesting results.  Let me say up front, I love this doc.  It’s a thorough primer to a band I love; the guys give really cool, expressive interviews; and a ton of well-known musicians talk about their own admiration of Rush: Tim Commerford from Rage Against the Machine, Billy Corgan, Jack Black & of course Mr. Trent Reznor himself.  (My heart goes flutter, flutter, skip. . .)

The first time we watched Lighted Stage a year ago, I completely geeked out.  My reactions ranged from transfixed (“Shhhh, I’m watching, no questions!”) to gloriously stupid.  I sang every song loudly.  & bounced in my seat.  Luckily, my husband tolerated all of this, although he did say something that still makes me smile: “This is like going to a renaissance fair.  I appreciate the effort but I don’t get.”  I didn’t care if he didn’t get it, I was just glad he didn’t run away screaming.

So, thankfully, when we rewatched the film, Kurt still had the same quizzical but game attitude.  He is still a little bewildered that a prog rock band with weighty lyrics & a distinct lead singer can inspire so much devotion.  And to be honest, like all dorks, I get defensive when I feel like there’s even the slightest chance of mockery.  At one point we were watching the group perform “One Little Victory” live in concert with the screens showing cinematics behind them.  We’re watching, I’m bouncing when Kurt start laughing nervously.  “What is that?” he says, referring to what’s playing on the screens behind the band.

“IT’S A DRAGON STOP LAUGHING!” I bellow.  & then we both fall against each other cracking up.  Yes, to finish my story, I am the Paul Rudd to Kurt’s Rashida Jones.

But, that’s completely ok, because we know that about each other.  Kurt even tried to listen to some of the CDs I have, but I know it won’t stick.  It’s proof enough that I am married to a wonderful man who embraces my dorkiness as much as I do.


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