I gave up the dream of becoming a rock star in sixth grade, to be precise, when my mother would not let me attend a Rick Springfield concert. I loved Rick Springfield and really wanted to stand in the front row swaying to “Jesse’s Girl.” I begged and pleaded, tried everything I could think of to get her let me go.
Last Friday, though, I finally lived the dream. Alas, no Rick Springfield, but I did to rock out (a little further back than the front row) at a concert of the Dixie Chicks.
I’m trying to ignore the fact that I and my two friends Rachel and Diane fit the Dixie Chicks fan demographic so well it was almost too predictable. But I let the Chicks do what they do best–give me an excuse to sing at the top of my lungs about all my deepest angst.
Seems like all their songs cover these ever-appropriate themes: leaving home to try something new (Taking the Long Way, Long Time Gone, Wide Open Spaces) the expectations of other people–and ourselves–that never seem to be met (Steppin’ Out, Not Ready to Make Nice, Top of the World), dreams for what life can be (Cowboy, Take Me Away, I Believe in Love, More Love) and the deep seated need to be a rebel when everyone around you wants you to be respectable (White Trash Wedding, Sin Wagon, Some Days You Gotta Dance).
Makes you want to be a rock star, doesn’t it?