I "Heart" Duran Duran

To say I was obsessed with Duran Duran at the ripe age of 14 could easily be considered an understatement. My room was covered in their posters. I gave a little wall space to Michael Jackson circa the "Thriller" phase, Prince, Robert Wagner (I know, I know I loved "Heart to Heart" and thought he was completely hot even though he was a good 25 years older than me) and a brooding Jim Morrison. I guess despite my love of everything Duran I was keeping things diverse. Any allowance was spent on Duran tees, pics, and even pink sheets that said "John Taylor" all over them. Val would happily pass out on them in a "California Cooler" haze on a regular basis. I would buy imported magazines from Japan that would sometimes cost $20 - a lot of money even now for a glossy mag.

As a kid growing up in LA my Dad ran various radio stations of every format. I got to meet David lee Roth and sit on his lap for a on-air interview,  and hang with Captain and Tenielle who were the figizz at the time. Most memorable was meeting Kiss in their full makeup and silver platform boot glory. I was probably 6 but I still remember vividly asking Gene Simmons to stick his tongue out, which he did and my dad took a picture with me right next to him laughing. Unfortunately, we moved a lot when I was young and my mom "Nancy" was constantly throwing away everything she shouldn't and keeping crap that she should have tossed. The Gene Simmons tongue picture and a autographed Kiss comic book signed to me were part of her trash: it still kills me to this day. Luckily however, spices from the 1930's and Lucky Charm boxes replaced with stale Fiber One cereal always made our moves unscathed. 

Despite his ultra-cool job, my dad would often refer to David Bowie as Steve Boo-ey and could never get the names of bands right. Because of this on my 14th Bday it was no surprise when (to my mortification) in front of my fellow Durranie friends my birthday cake read: "From: John, Paul, Sean, Simon and Robert!" Only two members were right, seriously I am very surprised "Ringo" didn't make his list. My dads sentiment however was very sweet and he took my love of Duran Duran seriously (perhaps in an effort to make up for my mom throwing away all of my childhood memories on a regular basis.)

One glorious morning as I was wearing my white leather John Taylor shoes, Duran tee, bleached bangs and fedora, my dad knocked on my door and told me that Duran Duran was coming to Phoenix (2 hours away) and he would take me and 6 of my friends. I nearly fainted. A month later we all loaded into my Dad's wood-paneled Clark Griswald station wagon and headed to Pheonix.  Since my dad regularly answered the door to my friends with his hair sticking up (ala Billy Idol) wearing just black socks, white BVDs and a button down shirt, I was worried he might embarrass me again somehow.

The show was a teenage outer body experience: mouthful of braces I screamed the entire time.
On the way home I sat wedged next to my dad in the front seat grinning ear to ear until my friends, instead of my dad, embarrassed the shit out of me by saying the word "douche" over and over from the back seat. My dad didn't say anything however I wanted to scream "Shut up you little fucktards" at the top of my lungs.

3 years ago my teenage dream became a reality. Through a connection of my brothers I was able to meet the entire band. I had only wished for a great-hair-and-makeup-day more on my wedding day. My look came together and I even brought my 1984 ticket stub to show them, which they promptly dismissed like a piece of poo poo. 

Nick (who was my favorite as a teen - even with his extreme magenta-colored blush) was so sweet but a good four inches shorter than me. John, while tall had really aged. And then there was Simon. He was just as sexy, brooding and English as ever. I think he may have had a bottle or two of chardonnay but I couldn't have cared less, because indeed Simon le Bon was flirting with me.

Teenage gawky girls with braces, pimples, and a chip the size of Texas on their pubescent shoulders can indeed dream. One day they may grow up to be soccer mom age and have their teen heartthrob give them the once over. Our concert seats were great, my brother was my hero, and my husband "Daddy Warbucks" was a great sport (as always) as I danced along and sang every word of every song.. This time -without braces- I grinned ear to ear for the next week.
Duran Duran 4 ever!  

-Parker