I Don’t Care About Your Band by Julie Klausner
I’ve dated countless disappointments; fauxhemians, moody artists, narcissistic actors, bi-polar designers, and other emotionally unavailable men. I’ve spent a lot of time standing to the left side of a stage because I dated musicians. Some of them are nobodies, some of them are has-beens and one of them performed in the closing ceremonies of the Vancouver Olympics (big whoop). So you can see why I was instantly drawn to Julie Klausner’s dating memoir I Don’t Care About Your Band.
In her book, which is really a collection of personal essays, Klausner recalls the low points in her history with men; from the lessons she learned by Kermit and Piggy’s dysfunctional relationship to her many, many one night stands with writers, students, pornographers and criminals.
Klausner has credits from TV Fun House (SNL) and the Upright Citizens Brigade and her writing, as you’d expect, is tight and comedic. Her descriptions these types of men are bang on. I alternated between completely identifying with her experiences, cringing at her most disgusting sexual encounters (cold sores and bedbugs!) and feeling sorry for her (cold sores and bedbugs!). Although this book is promoted as a humour book I found myself more often gasping in horror than lol’ing. Then again, I think I’ve only ever lol’ed from two books ever.
Klausner’s stories in structure are almost formulaic: she meets some guy randomly (through MySpace, at a gig, set up through a friend) they exchange a series of texts or e-mails, they meet up for a drink or something even more casual, she goes back to their place, judges them based on their furniture or collection of DVDs/books, then has lame or awesome sex with them. Then the guy does something ‘crazy.’ Luckily Klausner, a likable character and very forthcoming about her own issues, engages the reader with savvy insights and witty asides in her storytelling.
Klausner is smart to acknowledge that she didn’t want her story to have a Hollywood happy ending (‘and now I’m finally in a successful relationship’). Somehow she finds herself enlightened which assured me that she’ll no longer pay for a cab in the middle of the night to go to some loser’s apartment (ladies, myself included, take note).
As much as I am jealous that I didn’t come up with this idea first (particularly the title), this book will probably inspire me to write some of my own stories (actually, I already have). A fun and easy read I Don’t Care About Your Band has given me the reassurance and proof that the more you insist being treated well (aka basic human respect) the better relationships you will attract. If only I could go back in time and give this book to my 13 year old self before I ever started dating musicians.
Sara Bynoe 