Alison Wonderland

Stevie Nicks II

Stevie Nicks

I have to say it.  I love Stevie Nicks.  You probably just rolled your eyes.  You may agree she’s incredible, but don’t feel compelled to announce it on the web.  I’m sure there’s someone who fascinates you so much you behave similarly in their regard.  Heh.  I’m not going to roll my eyes back, in case your person is Amy Lee or Beyoncè (for example.)

I’m probably at that point where I need to chill for a bit (one week unless I still feel guilty.)  Stevie Nicks has a lot of fans.  I’m talking holy shit level.  I suck at being a fan.  I don’t even know most of the rules, so I’m winging it.  I’m assuming I’m her worst fan, based on the fact I didn’t know about her seven months ago.

It’s probably shocking information to those who don’t know I spent most of my life under a figurative rock.  Then I saw Rhiannon live on Midnight Special on YouTube.  And well, duh.  I remembered the song from childhood when my older siblings played music after I was tucked in for the night.  Unfortunately, I heard it faintly through walls and got the lyrics wrong (so much.)  I’m not going to share what I thought I heard (because I want future me to have enough dignity left to recover from this.)

The only music I had at that point was Disco Duck, a few Christian (indoctrination) cassette tapes for children, and the soundtrack for Free to Be You and Me.  (I can still recite that entire movie.)  Most of my siblings were teenagers+ when I was born, so they didn’t share their music (or anything else cool.)  I heard Fleetwood Mac on the down-low.

In May, I heard You Make Loving Fun on the radio while filling up at the gas station.  I finally knew the name of the band that used to sing to me while I pretended I was sleeping.  I purchased a Rumors CD (and downloaded it because Amazon Prime still wasn’t fast enough.)  I headed to YouTube to see if there was any live footage.

After watching them perform Rhiannon,  I immediately searched for Stevie Nicks.  Then I cried for a bit (and felt betrayed by everyone I’ve ever met because that happened in 1976 and I just found out.)  I got over myself because it was my only option.  The fact they’re still performing is the best consolation ever.  If you know someone who has never told you they love Stevie Nicks, please check and make sure they’re aware of her.  Life is hard enough, you know?  Spread the love.

I’m going to take a week(ish) off from obsessing over her because I feel guilty.  I don’t have anything to give her back.  I’m floored by how much I’ve learned from her just since May.  (Music is the ideal method of reaching me and teaching me.)  I don’t understand this world at all.  I can’t figure out how I’m allowed to receive so much for less money than I spend on video games.

I don’t pirate.  Ever.  I don’t steal books from libraries, etc.  But right now I feel pretty close to a thief.  I feel like I’m the big (bad) brother trading my dorky little sister a few shiny pennies for a handful of crumpled up paper money.  Only the sister is no doof she’s Stevie Nicks!  Oofda.  So I’m hoping I can figure out how to cope with this inside of a week.  Who knows; maybe my supposedly exceptional IQ will turn out to be useful for something other than early detection of probable mental illness.  I hope.

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