ZEPPELIN OBSESSION

I have a secret I haven't told many people, (except my closest girlfriends). I have an obsession with Led Zeppelin. The reason I keep this undisclosed is I'm a rather conservative, traditional girl, and this obsession doesn't quite fit into my lifestyle. I listen to Norah Jones and the classics, mostly. I'm the president of the PTA. I attend the ballet and cocktail parties, where the women are cultured, sophisticated, and polished; where women get their fingernails lacquered and their cheeks botoxed. Women in my circle would think Led Zeppelin is devil music. Yes, they're snobbish, a bit Hollywood, pretentious, but surprisingly, strangely interesting.

Before work, I put on my suit coat, black dress pants, and gold earrings; I line my lips with mute, Lopez lipstick; I place a South Beach peanut butter bar in my Louis Vutan bag. I am complete. Or am I?

I get into my baby blue BMW by 8:00 am, and crank Whole Lotta Love to the maximum volume. "You need coolin' baby, I'm not foolin / I'm gonna send you back to schoolin' / way down inside honey, you need it, / I'm gonna give you my love."

I know all the lyrics, and I sing along with Robert Plant, the beautiful, longhaired, sexy Robert. His voice is like something grinding and hungry, like something reaching down into your soul trying to draw something out. Oh yes, baby.

The Zeppelin obsession is a part of me I hide. It's the side of me that wants to smoke a joint, wants to make out with old boyfriends, wants to dance all night, wants to kiss the world. Music, without hesitation, can bring one back in time, even to places they may not want to go. And in my case, Zeppelin unleashes my wild, young, uninhibited, single years-my tight skirted, big haired, margarita years.

Some people take drugs, booze it up, have adulteress sex, smoke tobacco, or run marathons to get their rocks off. Not me. I let Jimmy Page make love to me with his guitar and allow Plant to seduce me with his mouth. It's quite simple really.

In the future, if you're driving on the freeway in Duluth, Minnesota, look for me. I will be the woman cruising a baby blue BMW at 70 mph. My hair will be blowing out the car window like black silk. Most likely, I'll be adorn in a dark business suit, but please don't be deceived by first appearances.

Zeppelin will be piercing the smooth leather interior like a mind-blowing rock concert, and Robert Plant will be bewitching me with his mouth, his body, his words-

"Way down inside, honey, you need it / I'm gonna give you my love."

Learn more about this author, Kim Robinson.
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