A (Good) Groupie Grows Up...

I was on my lunch break, waiting in line at Target to pay for SXSW necessities when I delved into my e-mail on my BlackBerry. A quick scroll through my blog Gmail account showed me one new e-mail with "Interview request" in the subject.

Oh yay, more accidental South by PR, I thought. That's what you get for listing your affiliation as 'blog' to all these parties. But I clicked to open it and see what bands thought they wanted an interview.

What I read instead left me stunned.


When I started this blog, I never would have dreamed a year later (nearly to the day) I'd be on the phone with a research assistant for a Canadian documentary dissecting the modern day groupie phenomenon and how I play a role in it.

But that is exactly what I spent an hour doing tonight.

And the craziest part? The reason they wanted to talk with me was because of my Paul Anka post. All I could think as I waited to get back to the office and return the e-mail was "HOW did they even find me?"

Turns out I get some damn good Google search results when you run "groupie" and almost any band I've written about/tagged in my blog.

I returned the e-mail, we set a time for a pre-interview via phone and this evening my phone rang at 7 p.m. on the dot. When I picked up, the lovely Marie-Claude from Quebec was on the other end. She explained based on what she'd read in my blog, she was interested in my perspective as a "groupie" for their documentary - and based on our conversation and the director's decision, she may call for a follow-up.

The director is working on a documentary on "super fans" (she was hesitant to use the word 'groupie' because of the connotation - and I told her, "Me too, that's why I put the good in front of it!") and the relationship between fans and artists, focusing on two Canadian musical groups that could not be MORE different: Mr. Paul Anka (which is how they found me) and early 2000s pop-punkers Simple Plan. And the director? She used to be a VJ on Canada's equivalent to MTV.

Wild, right?

So Marie-Claude and I began chatting. Her French accent was so charming and made me sad my own French is so terrible. She asked me lots of questions like how do I define a groupie, what's the difference between a "good" groupie and a "bad" groupie, what bands do I listen to, who do I follow around like a groupie...

It was a nice change of pace to be the interviewee rather than the interviewer, like I'm used to doing in my work life. I shared stories, Marie-Claude giggled at my ridiculousness as she made her notes. And then she dropped a bomb.

I was babbling on about the difference between good and bad groupies, boiling it down to a choice of lifestyle when she interjected, "Oh, like Pamela Des Barres?"

My heart jumped, excited she knew the groupie to end all groupies, but also reluctant to compare myself to her because I will never have a lifestyle close to that of Ms. Des Barres. While the woman has lived a life I would love to have, I really don't mind that "good" part of my name.

"Yes," I answered. "Except, I would never sleep with Mick Jagger like she did. I could live without that."

Marie-Claude laughed. "We actually interviewed her as well for the documentary. She will be in it."

I'm pretty sure it was impossible NOT to hear my jaw drop.

Here I was sitting at my desk in my pajamas babbling on about following Hanson around the country and jumping on stage with Quiet Company two weeks ago...and I'm being considered to take part in a documentary THE GROUPIE is in?

HOLY. SHIT.

(I'm sorry. There are no other words.)

It took me a moment to gather myself and continue with our conversation. All I could think was, "Pinch me because this cannot possibly be my real life!"

We continued on, talking about the difference between 1960s and 70s groupies versus modern day groupies and finally my impressions and tale of seeing Paul Anka live. It was just shy of an hour later when Marie-Claude announced she didn't have any other questions but said I have given her plenty of great information which she would relay to the director in her report and would be back in touch. She thanked me profusely, we hung up and I just sat there in awe for a moment.

Who knew a crazy quirk on Gilmore Girls would ever lead to me being in the same sentence as Pamela Des Barres?

Certainly not me.

I'm not holding my breath on this, but I'll keep you posted.