That was then but this is now.
I'm not sure if admiration is the word I'm looking for, but I've always thought it was cool when someone was really super passionate about something. Like, as long as their enthusiasm for that thing stayed on the healthy side of creepy (and it's a very delicate line, with juggalos failing badly) I think that's cool. Everyone's got at least one thing that they're the most into out of all the people they know, and to other people that thing sort of becomes their defining characteristic. Whether or not it's accurate isn't the point; that thing acts as a kind of shorthand that's especially useful around the holidays. What do you get Joe Blow? Well, he's a huge (blank) fan, so I'll get him something having to do with that thing he likes so much. And that's why people wind up with crap they don't want or need. Isn't that how it works?

I have no idea what my thing is. I think it's for other people to make those assumptions. If I had to guess, I'd say "Ryan Adams". People probably tend to associate me with him, but is that really my thing? Yeah, I enjoy the guy and his music, and my bedroom walls are adorned with posters of his likeness, but that just means I'm a 16-year-old girl, not his biggest fan. I don't follow him around on tour, or even go to every single show when he's in my own city. I don't collect his bootlegs and I'm not on his mailing list. So even with the things that I like a lot, I'm like the most passive fan ever. Or maybe it's the Union Jack. I love the Union Jack. If I get a Union Jack thong for Christmas, it would genuinely make me happy.

Anyway, I'm not sure I understand what it means to have the kind of devotion that inspires people to, say, follow the Grateful Dead Phish Morrissey (not a knock on Moz or his fans, I'm just can't think of anyone else with obsessive fans right now) around the country. So people who have that trait intrigue me.

...

Last week I saw Superdrag, who are in my all-time top-five favorite bands ever. You know how it is, you get into a band when you're 15 and that relationship is for life. I bought Regretfully Yours on tape in 1996 on the recommendation of some girl I knew on AOL and that laid the foundation for the type of music fan I would become. I saw them at the Troubadour in 1998 with a parental chaperon. I met so_gracefully at another Superdrag show at the Troubadour in 2001, a meeting which to this day I still credit for being the kind of life-altering encounter that only happens a few times in your life. I think it's safe to say that if it wasn't for Superdrag, my life on just about every level would have turned out very differently.

When Superdrag went "on hiatus" a few years ago because the singer found Jesus and started putting out Christian rock albums, it made me sad. Not because of the Christian rock, but because it was the first in a series of "end of an era" reminders that nothing stays the same. The first link to my youth was potentially lost and gone forever. No more shows where I knew (most of) the words to every song. No more opportunities for busting out the air-guitar! No more rocking out with abandon and scissor kicks and falling into people while sober. So when they reunited last year, I was obviously elated. They announced some east coast tour dates and for a minute I had actually considered flying out to see them. I didn't, of course, because I just don't love anything that much. But when I found out they were coming to LA, I was pumped.

You know what I learned at the show? That no matter how hard you try, resistance is futile. Once the past is gone, you can't recapture it. In the year 2008, Superdrag are obviously not a band that's hip with the kids. Their fans mainly consist of people who got into them 10 years ago, so most of the crowd was in their late-20s to mid-30s and beyond. That lent the show a weird vibe, making everyone in the room feel even older. It made the dudes on stage seem downright prehistoric. It was like being at a show where everyone there was "the old dude at a show". I'm not saying that I want to go back to being 17 or 21 again, but, yeah, I was hoping to reclaim some of the feelings associated with those times. Some youthful exuberance or something. The music was still great, and they played mostly classics, and I rocked out pretty thoroughly, but I couldn't shake the feeling of defeat, that even after giving it my best shot, the old college try, I had to own up to the fact that I'm getting older and certain things don't give me the same pleasure they used to. The highs don't get you that high anymore. It's a sad realization. But it's okay to let the past go. Also, I don't remember waking up with a sore neck and calves the morning after a show back when I was 21. I guess nature has a way of telling us when it's time to start acting your age.

This song will always rule, though. No, it's not that one, it's the other one. Yeah, there was a second single.

"Destination Ursa Major"