The Good Girls Are Home With Broken Hearts
I’ve been a fan of music since I was old enough to have an opinion about what I liked. I would ride around town and go hunting with my dad when I was 3 or 4 and we would blare the classic rock station, or play his Full Moon Fever cassette. I used to sing ‘Runnin' Down the Drain’ at the top of my lungs in an old Ford Bronco. Anyone who asked about my favorite musician would always hear ‘Tom Petty’ in a loud little voice, never missing a beat. My dad eventually gave me the cassette because more often than not, I had it in my room. I listened to that cassette until all the print was worn off and my mom had to write ‘Tom Petty’ on it in permanent marker. My favorite song was always ‘Zombie Zoo’ and the line ‘sometimes you’re so impulsive you shaved off all your hair, you look like Boris Karloff and you don’t even care’ always stuck out to me subconsciously. I remember wanting to shave my head to look like the girl in the song. I didn't know girls were allowed to shave their heads until that song.
When I was high school I met Brandon in band class. I introduced myself and he asked me what my favorite band was. We were cute kids who wanted to get to know each other, and we discovered that Tom Petty was our mutual favorite artist. Later, we ended up getting lyrics from ‘Wildflowers’ tattooed on our arms for our second anniversary. We would listen together and he showed me albums I hadn’t heard. We saw him live a few years ago and I felt like a little kid seeing their hero.
My hero died yesterday after suffering full cardiac arrest.
I spent yesterday reading news articles and updates and it was unclear all day, wether he had passed or not. Around 8:30 his longtime manager confirmed that the world lost an incredible, and prolific musician.
I struggled all day with feeling stupid for being so upset. I’d never met this man. I didn’t know him personally, and yet I was crying because he died.
I’ve been really thinking about how to put into words what Tom Petty and his music mean to me and it’s been difficult to do. Tom Petty shaped my taste in music. If it wasn’t for him I wouldn’t have gotten into Bob Dylan. If it wasn’t for Tom Petty we wouldn’t have the Gainesville scene, and all the incredible music that’s come out of it. Tom Petty solidified my love for the underdog vocalist. The gravely, the nasaly, the non-traditional and the imperfect. Tom Petty made me a fan of good songwriting and a sucker for rad lyrics. Tom Petty made me feel like it was ok to get stoned. Tom Petty taught me to never fucking back down.
Yesterday was a giant pile of fucking shit for America. I had woken up to the news of the terror attack in Las Vegas, followed by news of the death of my friends’ sweet French bulldog, immediately followed by the news of Tom Petty. I still haven’t really processed or thought about the shooting in Vegas. I honestly haven’t processed any of the horrible shit that happened yesterday.
As soon as I saw the news about Tom, my heart went into a familiar fit of palpitations. I got really drunk yesterday on beer and wine. I watched some music videos and cried more than I want to admit. I smoked too many cigarettes and coughed through this morning. I feel a bit better today just knowing for sure that he is dead. Friends kept posting articles saying that he wasn’t dead yet, but I didn’t want to get my hopes up when I knew the inevitable would happen. I honestly wasn’t prepared for this. I often said it will be a very rough day when Dylan dies, when Springsteen dies, and when Tom dies. I had a specific order in my head about how it would go, that I had come to accept. I didn’t expect that Tom Petty wouldn't be one of the two remaining members of the Wilburys.
To put it into words that every music fan will understand: yesterday life beat me down, broke my heart, and stole my crown. Rest easy, Tom.
-Chels