And I don’t care who knows.
Years ago (mid-2005), I wrote an article titled, “The Myth of Celebrity Worship”, in which I argued that celebrity worship was a myth. No person is deserving of worship, and even those who crave it, crack under the weight of it, and quickly resent it, even as they need it for their livelihood or because the people (the studio) pulling the strings tell the celebrity they must continue the game.
I even attempted a chart that broke down the hierarchy of celebrity worship (I’m not sure if it does):
Later that year, I alluded to those thoughts on celebrity worship in this post.
HOWEVER, in spite of my observations and conclusions on celebrity worship, I have always loved Dave Grohl.
I am awed how everything he touches turns to gold. He has had no train-wrecks, professionally or personally. He is a great father (from all reports). He laughs at himself. He has a tremendous amount of positive energy and enthusiasm. Somehow he is a super-rock-star… even though he does not have personal chaos and drama. He played the drums in many famous bands. Then he turned to the guitar and was named Best Guitarist by Guitar World magazine. (There are a lot of good guitarists.)
And, he is everywhere.
He’s in Time magazine, the Muppets movie, on stage with Tenacious D, on stage with Will Ferrell, reaching out to the trapped Chilean miners, in the studio with everyone, on TV shows (before it was cool!).
I have casually mentioned my admiration for him in my class, on occasion.
I felt like I was home. (I was home! In my bedroom!)
Here were people loving someone I loved, for all the reasons I love him. I was not alone.
And there was Dave. Of course. (He’s everywhere!)