i used to be obsessed with Motley Crue. my brothers listened to them all the time, so i quickly caught on that Tommy Lee was very obviously the love of my life. i think i was probably ten. at some point, they eventually rolled into town and my brothers and the boy next door went to that concert, obviously leaving me all disconcerted and crying, forlorn and heartbroken, alone at home. before they left, I BEGGED them to get me their autographs. i imagined then, in my little ten year old baby head, that they could just walk up to one of the greatest hairbands of the 80's after the concert and be like, yo man sup, great show, sign this here autograph book for my nerdy little sister yo (....did they actually talk like that then...?) and the next morning, i got up at the crack of dawn, salivating over the autographs i would soon be pressing close to my heart.
naturally, my brothers cruelly sneered and jeered at me over breakfast, but later that day, Brian, the boy next door, came over with four little slips of paper with completely disparate signatures on each: Vince Neil, Nikki Sixx, Mick Mars, and, oh JESUS, TOMMY LEE. I kept those little slips rolled up in a little China shoe I had on my nightstand for years, even when it finally dawned on me that Motley Crue really never had been sober enough to sign shit that night, let alone for three pimply little boys from the stix.
a couple of years ago, Tommy Lee crashed some party i was at. it was electric seeing him - he had a shirt on that said, "I would fuck me", and i managed to sidle my way into some personal space with him where i promptly realized he was absolutely fucking disgusting. i spent the rest of the night trying to get over multiple buzz kills, mainly through having to lean as far back as i could hoping that he wouldn't sweat on me.
i celebrated a birthday the other day, which is always great, but you know what i've just now realized? it's time to grow up.
here's to you, Kid.
