Thursday, November 15, 2007
A few days ago an illustrated Simpson's version of my sister popped up on my computer screen. She was ichatting me to ask if I knew any music journalists. Quickly and sarcastically I typed back, Ben Fong Torres.
"Yeah", she instantly replied. "I've already emailed him."
I was taken aback, slightly. It is not surprising for my sister to hang with fame. Her music video is the debut of Beck's little sister. She's friends with offspring of both the Bee Gees and His Royal Highness, Willie Nelson. She lives in LA, so I could go on and on.
"Remember when we met him?", she continued.
Slowly the fog lifted. We were at SXSW. Shopping on South Congress and I looked across the rack and saw Mr. Torres. I had met him once before at a book signing in San Francisco. He had written an amazing biography of one of my favorite musicians, Gram Parsons.
And I started to recall. My younger, freer, wilder self. The me who went to see live music many nights a week. The me on the front row who got backstage. The me who could stay up past midnight. The me that was almost famous.