Last night I watched the Cameron Crowe movie on Netfilx titled Almost Famous, and I was reminded of my experience with Ms. Slick. I was nineteen, she was forty (a hot forty at that). Regardless, watching Mr. Crowe's film about Stillwater's treatment of young William Miller reminded me a bit of my experience working at the Inn in Troy Michigan that rock bands on tour stayed at while in Detroit, as well as it all made me think of my own fifteen year old son (the age of the young Mr. Miller in Cameron's rock and roll film Almost Famous).
I don't do reviews here on my blog, but, I will say that Patrick Fugit's performance in Almost Famous convinced me that my own son is somehow ready for the world. Although I am not as smart as Ms. brilliant Frances McDormand is as Billy's (Patrick's) mom... My kid is fifteen. And, I realize he will never get stoned and have to save some groupie who got dumped by the lead guitar player in a fax Zepplin band and all that (because he doesn't dig the weed, doesn't do drugs at this juncture in life - unlike the drug professed world that I was introduced to). But. Still. To my surprise. The movie got me upset. And a bit teary eyed. Thinking about how difficult fifteen actually is/was.
Look, the movie was cool and all. I saw a Detroit buddy of mine Kate Peckham in some scenes that were in the film, which, was/is exciting, and, deserved. I just don't want Grace Slick humping my fifteen year old son and somehow making him think drugs and fast sex is the answer. Almost Famous (the movie) was deeper than that (and perhaps that's Cameron's overall point). And, having spent a brief time with Ms. Slick as a young man I would say she's deeper than that as well.
Wow, now tell me if that's not a weird entry.
My wife mentioned she thought this was a weird entry into my blog.
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