I Didn’t Mean To Break Your Heart

I’ve enjoyed reading about the lost loves of both Lanea Stagg and Deborah Nam-Krane in the past two days.  But I have to confess: I’m feeling a bit of guilt over the subject matter I’ve chosen to write about on this “You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feeling” blog hop.  I think it’s because my old love helped me get through one of the darkest times of my life, so admitting that I’m no longer a fan feels a bit like a betrayal. But honesty has become something that is lauded (and oddly debauched) these days, so I might as well come to terms with it.

In the early spring of 1999 my first marriage ended. Don’t get uncomfortable. This post isn’t about him or us. It’s about how I coped with the complete disappearance of the life I had envisioned at the time.  There was one deliberate decision I made during the packing of the “this is mine – that is yours” boxes that made everything easier. Though I knew full well that my ex was the driving force behind the purchase of one specific CD, I slipped it in with my things. Maybe out of spite? Okay, it was entirely out of spite. But that decision led me down a path of fandom that could have lived still to this day…except…well I’ll get to that later.

The CD was Stunt by the Barenaked Ladies. Yeah. You just take that in. I’ll give you a moment.

Ya ready?

OK let’s get into it then. At this stage in the Canadian band’s career, they were finally getting a taste of the popularity that had consistently eluded them in the United States.  It was an exciting time. The guys were young and free spirited. Their music was witty and fun. It was everything I needed to feel hopeful again. So I pretty much wore the disc out.

Months later, I was working a temp job in my old hometown. It was mindless work – slapping labels on court folders – so those of us that were able to multitask were chatting about various things. I don’t recall who brought up the Barenaked Ladies first, myself, or the guy at the other end of the table, but as the conversation went on, it became clear that he was not just a casual fan, but rather a full-fledged aficionado. This knowledge paired with the discovery that I had attended high school with his lovely wife made us fast friends. Friends don’t let friends go through life believing that Stunt is the best the Barenaked Ladies had to offer, so Matt and Kellie convinced me to join them for the band’s Maroon tour stop in Cleveland.

Oh. My. God.

I was blown away. I mean, completely blown away by the energy, the camaraderie, the Kraft dinner pelting me in the back of the head. It was a life-changing experience. I left that arena determined to soak up every album they had ever recorded prior and every album they ever would release ever until the end of time ever. Ever.

My fandom knew no bounds.

I bought every CD. I joined the fan forum. I saved up vacation time to follow them on three consecutive tour dates. The guy from the 90210 Peach Pit highlighted them in a documentary but only released it in the UK and instead of accepting that I just couldn’t have that one piece of memorabilia, I befriended a guy in Colorado that mailed me a VHS copy at no charge.

I was relentless.

Me being relentless with Tyler Stewart and Kevin Hearn and enourmous glasses.

Their sound evolved and I evolved with them. Their material got political and I got political with them. They threw together a kids album and I…I…

I just couldn’t relate anymore.

I tried. I really did. But…7 “ate” 9? I’m all for whimsy, but there’s nothing sadder than forced whimsy. And this felt very forced.

As it turned out, it kind of was. Steven Page had a little run-in with the law and left the band within the next year.  While the remaining members have been successfully carrying on without him, it’s just never been the same for me. I have officially fallen out of love.

I guess there’s not much else to say to them except, “Thanks. That was fun.”

Be sure to visit Jami’s blog tomorrow to see what just doesn’t do it for her anymore.