My Metal Addiction

Screams are like sweet lullabies in my ears.

Metal music is as normal and good to me as is the Grateful Dead or Celine Dion. Is that weird to you? I'm sure it is. But metal has been part of my life for many, many years now and I don't know if it will ever part from me.

My love for rock music started when I was a child. The first rock band that I remember choosing to listen to was The Doors. My father gave me a tape and I used to play it in my little WalkMan. I was heavily and permanently influenced by my father's (and mother's, actually) musical tastes, but like most children, my tastes evolved once I flew the nest, and for me that was into metal. A lot of people my age gravitated toward rap or hip-hop or R-n-B, but not me. Metal has just always made sense to me and it doesn't make me feel uncomfortable like I am sure it does to many. The funny part to me is that while I don't need to listen to it every day like my ex-boyfriend, there comes a time every week or so where I literally crave some metal. Sometimes it's Ihsahn, well actually, a lot of the time. And other times it's Metallica or Otep (though that's a story for another day). And I spend a couple of hours listening, enjoying, rocking-the-fuck-out, and then I'm good.

I actually do wonder if this is something that I will do for years to come. If I will be a mom and still listening to metal. Or a grandma! I mean, hey. My grandma still listens to music she listened to when she was my age. Above my computer I've posted a cut-out comic strip from the brilliant Dan Piarro's "Bizarro". It simply says, "SENIOR MOMENT - 2060" and has an old man with all sorts of tattoos and piercings asking, "Now where did I put those car keys?"

Yeah, my generation kicks ass.