I'm an angry punk........but the 5 year old in me won't let go of the Backstreet Boys

I'm not joking when I refer to myself as a punk historian. You want to hear the history of punk? Pull up and chair and pick an area of the US or a European country to start with because you're about to get learned, son. I did a research paper on just the New York and England scenes from 1970-1979 and was finished in three days. It was 35 pages long. Single spaced.

I know every subgenre from Oi! to Brazilian melodic to early-nineties-LA-bubblegum-glitter-glam. I got friends spanning from Al B Damned to Texas Drag Queen Massacre to Ionia to The Casualties down to the local punks around here in Bleach Drinker. I've read so many books on punk that I had to buy a separate bookshelf just for them and it ended up collapsing under it's own weight. When I was being interviewed for my first internship at 16 and was asked about my experience in the field, I had none so I talked for an hour about the impact of the Sex Pistols on modern music in general. That's how I got hired over college grads. Safe to say, I know my shit.

I also have an undying love for boy bands. Say what you will, I promise I give a shit. Not really. It started when I was 5. I had been listening happily to Marilyn Manson and Slipknot for around a year (my mother used to be an Aerosmith, White Snake, Def Leppard and Motley Crue groupie (unsuccessfully, thank god)). Then "It's Gotta Be You," was heard blaring from the TV where my eight year old half sister sat staring dreamily at these five baggy pants and tank tops wearing, hip thrusting young men. Their lack of makeup and masks did confuse me, as did the missing of screaming and curse words, but their voices were so melodic and, well frankly, pretty. I was hooked. Now my days consisted of badgering my mother to make me mix tapes of Millennium and Anti-Christ Superstar so I could listen to my favorite guys on the way to school.

Despite a brief obsession with *NSYNC, which faded away with the announcement of their "hiatus", the Backstreet Boys continued to be my guilty pleasure. Yup, I supported them through Kevin's departure, their unspeakably rapid decline in popularity, the lost sounding Unbreakable album , the dance hall heavy This Is Us, Kevin's blessed return, everything, okay? I even got beat up when I was ten because I refused to refer to them as the "Back Door Boys".

Oh, turning twelve. Emo was happening and I was on the boat to skulls and studs island. My Chemical Romance became my lords and saviors and everything I owned suddenly turned red and black. I pruned my closet of anything brighter than a dull grey (blood red not counting of course), and boxed up my precious boy band tapes in fear that someone would find them and declare me *gasp* a poseur. But late at night, when my panda eyes had been rubbed off and my fake piercings had been removed, you could find me curled up under my (black) comforter, listening to "Let me tell you about the call that changed my des-ti-nay-ay......"

Over half a decade later, and I still love My Chemical Romance and Slipknot are still the greatest band in the history of the universe in my opinion, and my nickname is still Joey after I wouldn't shut up about the Ramones for a solid year, and my bedclothes are still black (which makes finding my black phone in them at night fun), and I STILL LOVE BSB. These boys (men, really, they could be my dad if I'm being honest) still have a special place in my heart. I have every album (including the rare European version of their debut album). I have the singles, the magazines (with hearts around Brian, who was destined to be my husband in my mind, and who is still my favorite member), the hoodies, the posters, the key chains, every embarrassing merch item my preteen hands could grab. I made a fan art that had all of their singles wound into the picture for their twentieth anniversary. Judge me if you want, I'll be over here listening to "Bay-bay, it's the way ya make me, kinda get me go cra-zay, never wanna stop!"