Thursday, March 10, 2011

My Love of Boy Bands

I felt sort of like the priest who was approached by a police officer outside of church while getting in his car.  I was being arrested for crimes against young boys, but I was being questioned about them.

A co-worker, whom I happen to like despite her questionable and startling taste in music, asked me with all seriousness, "Which boy bands do you like?"  Or words similar.  Then, as if that weren't a terrifying enough question, she started rattling off names.  Backstreet Boys (it may be spelled with a "z," I don't know), O-Town, and a host of others.  Where in the world did this question come from?  Do I come off as a pre-teen girl or a man attracted to shirtless, well-choregraphed boys and young men?  I cannot be mistaken for a female (no matter how hard I try), and I didn't think I gave off that vibe my old Myspace page not withstanding.  So where did this question come from?

I asked, but did not get a response.  Chilling.

My closest brush with boy bands came when I watched a few episodes of that show which made O-Town.  I was curious about it, as I thought (correctly) that it would show the type of Frankenstein machine pop music originated from.  Lou Pearlman was O-Town's originally manager, and if anyone had the pedophile NAMBLA vibe it was good ol' Lou.  For some reason I always pictured him in the dark looking at photoshoot outtakes of shirtless young hopefuls as he sweated and masturbated to all hours of the morning.  I'm sure I'm not the only one, either.

Did I come across as a Pearlman type?  I've written about music from Prince to GG Allin, and my tastes are fairly well-known and I would imagine somewhat obvious.  Where in the name of former NAMBLA Boy of the Year Fred Savage did I appear to be a fan of pre-fabricated boy bands? 

Perhaps my co-worker was joking.  Perhaps she was serious.  I had previously given her three types of grief over what was on her iPod, and maybe this was her way of getting back at me ... or seriously trying to figure out what I listened to in my down time.  (For the record, it was Sigue Sigue Sputnik the other day.)  She knew I listened to Prince.  Maybe she thought other short, dancing males were on my playlist as well.

They aren't.

Now, in order to cleanse my soul of such a misinspired violation of all that I hold holy and to be in good taste, I shall listen to some Cannibal Corpse and put this whole ugly incident behind me.

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