Episode 1: The Sizzling Backstory…, by Whitney Farmer – Un Pop Culture #1

November 18, 2009 Whitney Farmer 6 Comments

People might try to make me become cool, but it doesn’t work. I have what might be officially called a cool job in music, but what I take of it with me isn’t cool. I tend to swap cell phone pictures of new puppies with rock stars rather than illicit or sweaty experiences. My personal goal for shows is to get my hair looking like Yeoman Janice Rand from Star Trek. When I party, my vocabulary expands exponentially and I don’t throw off any danger vibe at all.  But I don’t even party anymore because it bores me.  I have contacts, but I prefer wearing my glasses.  And the rims on them?  The way I like ‘em – big and black, like my motorcycle boots which I almost always wear at the club, even under evening gowns. I talk to God and I really, really love my parents. I’m not interested in changing any part of this.

Once upon a time, we had a death metal night at the club with eight bands playing, one after the other on the main stage.  On our other stage, we had a neo-soul/hip-hop DJ dance night.  Before the night, our staff talked about potential security complications that might arise. It probably isn’t possible to have two more different groups of people in one place and not risk opening up a wormhole in the space/time continuum.

But the night played out differently than we had all expected.

I first was suspicious that I was going to learn something when I watched the vampires, Goths, and psychobillies walk by the hand sanitizer pump dispenser at the box office desk.  They almost all stopped, and with black manicures all-around, they carefully squirted out a dollop to help them stay healthy. These were the same guests or musicians who had either paid money or been paid money for music glorifying death. (One snark remark from a New Yorker was heard, goading them to risk only trying one squirt if they thought they were so tough…) What occurred that was more surprising was the migration throughout the night that we experienced between the two rooms.  Some Neo-Soulers and Death Metalees got along beautifully.  I remember one guy with three foot long jet black hair who had just performed on the main stage. After his set, I found him sitting at the bar in the midst of our DJ dance party.  His hair was swaying as his head bopped and he grooved, and he was enjoying a mutual eye dance with a lovely “Nubian Queen”, as Lt. Uhura was once described by some alien warlord.

Judging from the outside, these groups shouldn’t have liked each other and shouldn’t have enjoyed each other’s music.  But just like using the hand sanitizer, some of these people did something worth remembering:

They did what they wanted and ended up having an even better time because of it.

This gets to the heart of something that might be important to ponder regarding pop culture. Pop culture gets a bad rap perhaps unjustifiably because we the population let it drive us rather than being in the driver’s seat.  If it’s a good idea, have fun with it.  If it’s not a good idea, let’s not waste time fulfilling an expectation or prejudice.  Go ahead:  Use two squirts of sanitizer, and go have more fun.  Then you end up being the person everyone is watching.

Quote of the Blog:

…overheard from Ed, our Dude of Light and Fog and Resident Sage: “So, tell me how to help you not be a d _ _ k.  I’ll do my best but, remember, I’m not Jesus.”

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Whitney runs a rock music venue located in L.A.  She has an M.B.A. and no one cares.