Rissa’s mom has got it goin’ on

If I’ve inherited anything from my mom, it’s my undying passion for music and the men that perform it.

However if I’ve ever disappointed her, it is because I utterly refuse to rock Led Zeppelin merch.

Frequenting the Led Zeppelin message boards, she told a friend about my obsession with Aaron Carter when I was younger. Her friend’s response was, “Think about it. You love rock music, the only way she can rebel is by listening to pop.”

But I never used music to rebel. I genuinely can’t stand listening to Led Zeppelin because I’m pretty sure that’s the only music I heard from the time I was conceived until I was 5. (As I type this, I can already see the scowl on her face as she reads it.)

Aaron Carter (who I’m going to see this month) is cute and had catchy songs — the formula for a pre-pubescent girl’s obsession.

I remember one time, when my Aunt Bonnie was babysitting me, I made my cousin Ian listen to Aaron Carter. I wouldn’t blame him if he still holds a grudge against me to this day.

Despite her utter disappointment, she forced my sister to come along with us to my first concert. Which, of course, was Aaron Carter.

It was the best night of my young life. My sister and mom sat there with earplugs, both sporting matching Led Zeppelin shirts while I danced and sang my little lungs out.

I don’t think my poor sister was ever more scared in her life.

I was the youngest member on both sides of my family up until my cousin Eric was born nearly six years ago.

Respectively, my sister Nicole is the eldest of both sides of the family.

The West Coast Wellness Group stated the youngest is most-likely to get picked on. I can attest to this.

No blame is to be placed on my sister for picking on me. She would have gotten a pony if I hadn’t come along.

But to this day, the thing I get picked on the most from every member of my family is my music taste.

My sister had my cousin Sarah to grow up with and not far behind her was my cousin, Ian.

Being ‘80s children, they tend to lean toward that era.

Sarah never could quite understand why I love the music I listen to, but I like to think I’ve made her proud as we exchange our mosh pit and backstage stories.

As I grew up, Ian and I became closer in our shared love of performing music. Again, I don’t blame him if he hates me for forcing my undeveloped music taste on him.

Nicole’s favorite band, Flickerstick, unfortunately is long broken up. However, she got to meet them several times.

I was too young when they were a band to see them live, because they played venues where you had to be at least 18.

I remember when she came home from a Flickerstick concert and she told me about how our Uncle Chris guarded her so she could enjoy the show without worrying about getting pushed away from her front row spot.

Uncle Chris has always encouraged my taste in music, despite the fact that he’s stuck in the ‘70s like my mom.

For my 12th birthday, he burned me a CD of Aaron Carter songs I didn’t already have. He and my Aunt Bonnie also bought me the Dream Street Live DVD that year.

My Uncle Brad and I love Green Day. He’s also encouraged my taste in music, and one year for Christmas bought me an Aaron Carter doll that I still have in mint condition to this day.

As I grew older, my mom became more accepting of my choice of music as I discovered how awesome Green Day is, and then I started getting into rock bands such as Panic! at the Disco.

She and my Aunt Bonnie went with me to see Panic! at the Disco, and I was on cloud nine as Ryan Ross and I locked eyes.

Then, there was the Green Day concert incident where I mistakenly purchased general admission seats, and they haven’t been with me to a show since.

Nowadays my mom tells me, “I’ve forgotten more about music than you’ll ever know.” I’ll just let her keep thinking that.

Anytime I come home with a new story of meeting someone or going to a show she says, “Yeah, but did you meet Metallica in a bar?”

She then shows off her picture with James Hetfield.

Which is freaking awesome, and I am jealous she had that luck.

Seriously though, I’ve met at least one member of all my favorite bands (expect Green Day, but I’m working on it!) but since she met Metallica in a bar in Cleveland, I guess that makes her cooler than me.

I find myself becoming a lot like my mother in that I say that I’ll name my daughter after an All Time Low song. Even though I hate that I was named after a Led Zeppelin song — no, I won’t tell you my middle name.

One cool thing about my family is that we represent all genres of music. There’s my mom who is stuck in the ‘70s, and she has my uncle and aunt with her, my sister and cousins who are dedicated to their era.

Then there is me. The pop-punk loving, skinny-jean and eyeliner wearin’ princess who would rather be at a concert than a family reunion. The girl who will listen to Green Day and Nirvana one minute and Big Time Rush and Aaron Carter the next.

I’d say don’t judge me by my music taste, but I’m all too use to it, and that’s okay.

As long as I come home to the family collection of vinyl, cassettes and CDs, I’m okay with that.  

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