I didn’t think much of it at first; I didn’t really started connecting the dots until my last date last night with a very special kind of human belonging to the Rob Gordon Species.You see, there are many types of men, I think, but the Rob Gordonites are definetly one of a kind.
These are the ones that consider High Fidelity the greatest movie or book of all time, who have found a character that has personified all of their insecurities and sensibilities, justified their screw ups, paralleled their past loves and break ups with the ones seen and lived by this character.These are the guys that hold a high regard for Stevie Wonder (of course, vintage Stevie Wonder) and would possibly like I Believe (When i Fall in Love it will be Forever) played at their wedding, the guys who have had a inevitably their heart broken at some point or another and who constantly struggle between their inability to commit and their faith on true human love.
The guys that will quote Is that Peter-fucking-Frampton? As they stumble into a bar, and absolutely, unapologetically, pride themselves in their music tastes and knowledge, which they have worked hard to construct and deconstruct.
Let me just clear something out, I have nothing against this species. In fact, I have noticed a pattern in my dating life where I am immediately drawn to their subdued bitterness, to their cigarette smoke, to that hidden sweetness. The last three men I have seen have at one point or another stated High Fidelity is kiiind of the movie of my life. And of course, you start thinking, in which category do you fall...Are you the sweet Penny, the sad one that he ends up sharing a bed with for 2 years, the iconic Charlie, the exotic and new Caroline Fortis, or and only if you are lucky, the one and only Laura.
I didn’t really become aware of this pattern until recently. But then you start remembering lines quoted from the movie; an exasperated Are we having the state of the union talk? As you laid in bed, the chuckling when you play Belle & Sebastian and have that categorized as Sad Bastard Music, the inevitable top fives.
Pieces of Rob Gordon are reflected in all of my past conquests. In my first love with all the right jokes, In the boy with the tattoos which whom i discussed sadness and the things missed and how he said that he missed intimacy most of all, the sleeping with someone and the little idiosyncrasies from past loves like the rubbing of feet an equal number of times and then the guy who works for a radio station and has an undying love for pop music and all its ramifications.
After thinking how is it that I always end up meeting these Rob Gordonites I came into a very clear conclusion.
I am one of them too.
I too think that the best flirting technique is talking passionately about shared tastes, I believe (and follow) all the rules when making a music compilation, I too have the understated insecurities and have inner conversations with Bruce Springsteen (well, Bob Dylan, whom, was the first choice in the movie but couldn’t compromise due to scheduling conflicts) and have at one point or another played Dry the Rain just to witness all the heads slowly move and ask Hey, what is this?
I did, at one point, think I had my Laura, and at the same time, my Charlie. Saw all of the insecurities, the feeling of fraud and who am I kidding? I dont belong here. Saw someone with all the fascination and glow in the world, I have also said I will never get over this and rationed it to the first night a band opened for Nirvana, something as monumental as that. Thankfully, I came into the same realization as Rob on that one, and even if I wasn’t necessarily left for "the Dreaded Marco" but for a far less exotic, attractive or threatening kind, I still felt it could have been me at one point in the past, standing in the rain, screaming Charlie, you fucking bitch, let’s work it out!
I think I want what all of us, Rob Gordonites, want. I think I want nothing more than the image of browsing used vinyl’s while debating the greatness and mutual exclusivity of Art Garfunkel and Marvin Gaye, something along those lines. I want to never untie what I love, and who I love, to the music I hold closest to my heart. See, I too, organize my albums in an autobiographical way and think that there is no better complement to life other than that which is music and what it provides for us. Our entire history can fly from speakers, and the question of What came first, the music or the misery? May never really be answered, but hopefully we will remain strong among the few. And we’ll play some damn sweet tunes along the way.