By Katherine Goldstein, From Slate:
As a kid, I imagined many things for my life. Marrying a rock star was not one of them. I appreciate and enjoy music, but have no passionate or fanatical interest in it. I don’t know any obscure bands and can’t talk knowledgeably about any artist’s “catalog.” I don’t particularly like going to see live music that much—it’s too loud, and I get too tired. I don’t hang out in rock clubs wearing leather miniskirts or do anything else featured in Almost Famous. I am a normal-looking brunette.
I started dating Travis Morrison, a computer programmer who worked at my company in early 2010. We got to know each other through chatting at the lunch table. We were the only people in our small office who regularly brought in food from home. I had the vaguest recollection that I had heard from a colleague he had been in some kind of famous band, but I didn’t really know the details. The first time we socialized outside the office, I was shocked when one of the people attending a small dinner party lit up when she recognized him. “I LOVE your band, I saw you all play at least three times in high school!” She squealed with glee. I had never heard of his band, “the Dismemberment Plan,” and it didn’t really sound like a band I would like.
As we started dating, I naturally inquired about his musical past. He had been the lead singer of the Dismemberment Plan, but they had broken up in 2003 and hadn’t played a show together since 2007. He’d put out some albums as a solo artist and then decided to leave the industry and go into computer programming full time. He worked at the Washington Post and then the Huffington Post, where I met him. I asked him about his albums, and he told me that I should just listen to the one he considered the best, Emergency & I. When I asked about the others, he said he didn’t have any copies, and that I would have to buy them on iTunes. So I downloaded and listened. I enjoyed them, although I didn’t memorize any lyrics or listen to them on repeat. But that chapter of his biography didn’t play much part in our lovely blossoming romance. At the time, Travis got his singing joy largely from an Episcopal church choir. I would attend the monthly services to support him, and we’d go to brunch afterward.
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