The Man Who Is Dave Grohl

by Liz Heather in , ,

You know what's weird? You don't know how much I love Dave Grohl. This is the first time I'm mentioning him on the blog since its inception two years earlier, and that seems kind of fucked up to me. I used to adore this man. And it's not as though I don't anymore - it's more of a silent "Ahh yes. Dave Grohl" kind of feeling now. Just a buried love affair that once was. I don't want to get into too much detail about being in my late teens & early twenties and fully believing that I would marry this man. 

I mean, look at him.

And I was too young to like Nirvana when they were around, so I boarded the Grohl train in the early Foo Fighters years. They were at the first concert I went to (Summersault 2000) and that was when I fully knew how I felt. I mean, someone hurled a water bottle at his face and he casually caught it mid-air and then took a sip. Can you comprehend how cool that looked? 

In any case, does this post have a point? Not really. It just felt weird to write on here for so long and not mention his name. Oh, and also - if you're not in love with this man's voice after the acoustic version of Everlong, then you, my dear, are dead inside.

I don't get nuts when I see celebrities, but him and Martin Short are the only two people I think I would convulse at seeing in the flesh. 

All right, that's all.

Sidenote: Happy Birthday to one of the best humans I know, my brother Gary. You're in my top three of people I couldn't live without and I hope you're aware of how much I sing your praises to everyone I know. (And also, you kind of introduced me to the magic of Dave Grohl, so I kind of am in debt to you forever for that.) Thank you for being everything that you are. I love you enough to temporarily give up my Perfect Strangers collection.