being friends with boys

I've had guy friends my whole life.  I was a tomboy growing up, and then ended up in a music world with many, many dudes.  It was inevitable that some of them would become my pals.  As a woman, my male compatriots have had a different role in my life than have the females.  Well, the straight ones, that is.  Oddly, most of them are musicians, while most of the ladies are not.  So, the guys and I have that in common.  We talk about records, guitar sounds, drum machines, other musicians, the highly controversial topic of Rick Rubin, and sometimes: girls.  I'm kind of a bro, and I'm fine with it.  In fact, I love it.  It means that I have peers with whom I share likes and dislikes, and speak a common language.  I have this with my sisters too, but about different things (like Adam Sandler).  My very first best friend was a guy, and some of my dearest today are men as well. 

As I've gone through this testosterone-filled world, I've befriended a few imposters, accidentally.  They look the same, act the same, do the same things... All until they don't.  What happens?  They like me.  I mean, they like me, like me.  Yep, just like grade school.  And also just like grade school, when they don't know what else to do about it, they turn into mean little boys.  Four days from my wedding day, I'm reflecting on the more recent wave of casualties in the epic story of Boy Likes Buick; Buick Doesn't Care, and it's an impressive figure.  What surprises (and impresses) me more than that list, is the list of guys that didn't go that way.  I don't mean to say that I think every man should fall in love with me like I've got some witchy power over the opposite sex.  Quite the opposite, actually.  I'm always surprised when anyone is into me.  What I mean to say is that there are men with whom I have successful friendships and/or professional relationships today, that very easily could have have devolved into something else.  Some of them have a History of Crushing, and got past it.  It is to their credit alone that they are not on the bad list.  Hat's off, gentlemen, hat's off.

I've been foolish enough to miss the signs of Boyhood so many times it's embarrassing.  Make no mistake, age plays no part.  I've have known some grown-ass fellows to fall short in the dignified behavior category.  Those are always the saddest.  Like, come on.  You're old.  The most insulting, and oddly most common, are the jerks who feign professional interest in my music in order to have a reason to spend time with me.  That is possibly the single worst thing a regular person could do to me.  (By "regular" I mean not related to me.  My relatives have a particularly horrifying set of tools with which to dismantle my sense of self-worth.  Custom made.)  To act as though my heart and soul, which is my music, is anything you believe in, when it in fact is not... Well, son, that earns you a lifetime without having me around, at all.  What I'd like to know is, what did you think would happen?  That I'd kiss you and you'd transform from your toady self into a prince, and then after the wedding you'd admit that you're not actually into chick musicians?  You'd end up dead in the back yard.  I think you got off lucky here, friend, I really do.

When I got engaged almost a year ago, there was a mass exodus of dudes from my life.  One day they all just vanished.  The weird, sad singer/songwriter guy, the brilliant producer guy, a couple of whatever bassist guys... Gone.  Like we'd never known one another.  When you think about it, it's kind of amazing.  I wish it were surprising, but it's not.  I've been leaving 'em behind since Babyface was in a band called The Deele.  At least the offenders in question then really were eleven years old.  They get a pass.  It's not because I'm anything special, I'm just my own entity.  A certain brand of person is drawn to that and wants to pin it down like a butterfly, for further inspection.  Only, it's not yours to know, and therefore you will never just be able to enjoy me for who I am. 

In light of the Lost Boys, I'd like to give a thunderous round of applause for the men in my life who love, support and stand next to me through whatever goes down.  Some of you go back decades with me, and others only a few years.  Whatever the case, I salute you, and thank you from the bottom of my heart.  You all restore my faith in men, partcularly in ths world filled with boys.  As far as the rest of you go: It's your loss, I'm a great pal.  And I want my book back, jerk.

All woman,
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