Birthday Letter to Roger Taylor,Over the last 29 years, I haven't paid much attention to you. You're the quiet one, you do your job, you don't appear to destroy hotel rooms or show/tell about a substance abuse problem, you're aging well and you even picked a more sedate life over continuing with your supergroup in the late 80s-early 2004s*. If you're secretly insane, you keep it to yourself.
The truth about my neglect is as follows: When I took the Facebook quiz, "Which Duran Duran Member Are You", it came out that I was YOU. The moment was very Heathcliff/ Catherine-esque but without the angsty romance and foggy moors. I remember where I was, in my office, the natural sun shining through the window and me smack dab in the middle of Main Street, Realityville. It all made sense. My oversight, my lack of constant praise (you know, Le Bon probably needs it more) for the gift that you are to the world was a minor form of self-loathing. Today I rejoice because I am Roger Taylor. And it's my birthday.
While Duran Duran continued after you left, it wasn't the same. You are an essential piece of the puzzle, the subtle/sublime/poker faced drum-twirl in "Girls on Film" that adds necessary oomph to a moment.
Happy 5__th birthday, you silent rogue!
Eating cake in your/my honor,
Dish
*For which I forgave you but only after several years and not fully. Can one ever truly forgive oneself?
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