writing

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Hayden Stockwell

Dr. Keri Behre

WR 323

12 February 2019

The Crunge

The seat I was sitting on in the car was pressed and worn, sweaty from the heat of the

summer road trip. The air inside the car was stale, with hints of multiple fast food meals in the

air. Looking outside revealed only a bleak, dry landscape, populated by rocks, dirt, and

Canadians. Clearly this was a view that was far from anything visually interesting for an eleven

year old. My only form of entertainment left was the music playing. Unfortunately entertainment

transformed into torture, as Robert Plant screamed “​HEY HEY MAMA SAID THE WAY YOU

MOVE GONNA MAKE YOU SWEAT GONNA MAKE YOU MOVE​” again for an inconceivable

amount of times. That is when I had developed a stubborn vendetta against Led Zeppelin.

I was irritated often during my childhood years, although these moments of irritation

were usually intentional. From when my little brother pulled the classic “I’m not touching you!”

to my friends and I teasing each other as a mean-spirited form of comradery, pestering on

purpose was consistent in my life. What would annoy me the most however was when these

kinds of things happened accidentally, especially if I was the only one who is conscious of

whatever would be going on. Something about Led Zeppelin had gotten under my skin deeply,

so much so that from then on I would make sure others would be from then on aware of my

suffering.

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I maintained this disdain for the 1970’s superstar band for about a decade. Whenever a

Led Zeppelin song went on the radio, the station would be changed aggressively. My hate for the

band frustrated the rest of my family as well, as I would immaturely groan and be passive

aggressive towards anyone playing them. As time passed my visible distaste for the group

weakened, yet I still disliked Zeppelin.

Eventually I moved out of my parent’s house, meaning the outside world had to now deal

with my unnecessarily aggressive stance against the artists. I moved in with some close friends

from Portland State, and I connected with them really well. One of my roommates was Sky, the

physical embodiment of raw power and fury against the patriarchy, who also had some similar

tastes in music as me. She oftentime leaned towards music that’s louder or more rebellious than

me, but it is all still music to my ears. Of course, the one exception to this was that she saw Led

Zeppelin as one of the most important musical groups of all time. Obviously we did not see eye

to eye, but I kept my views to myself. She did not. Unfortunately the truth came out when we

had company over, leaving me at the mercy of Sky.

“Hey Hayden, what’s your most unpopular opinion?” she asked me inquisitively drinking

her cider..

“Well, I have some strong opinions about Led Zeppelin,” I meekly replied, knowing the

wrath of the apartment matriarch would be soon coming at me with an unstoppable fury.

“Are you serious? You’re telling me ​you​ don’t like Zeppelin? Coming from the guy who

only listens to old man music?”

“Yes.” I knew I was done for. Sky’s eyes furrowed towards me, raised a single index

finger at my face, and took another sip of her cider. Now that anytime music was brought up in

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conversation, Sky berated me, typically in disbelief that I did not like one of her favorite bands

of all time. Throughout the first months of living together, my roommate was persistent in her

verbal attacks, and soon the cracks in my armor were starting to show. I caved, and agreed to

listen to Led Zeppelin.

I stepped out into the living room, illuminated by a harsh glow from my computer screen.

The only sounds from the apartment were my footsteps, and I was careful to tread lightly so that

my roommates could sleep soundly. Sitting with a bounce in my well used computer chair, I put

on my headphones, opened Spotify, and started playing Zeppelin’s first self titled album.

Over the next few days I listened to the rest of their albums, partly so I could say that I

had listened to them, but also because I was beginning to like their sound. Some songs were

definitely a miss for me, but I was enjoying the most popular of their songs. There was an aspect

about their sound; every drum kick felt like John Bonham was smashing my chest in. The power

from some of their songs ignited my interest. I also started to recognize some of the songs that

my Dad would play on repeat, and much to my surprise they did not make me want to claw my

ears off of my head. But the rest of the songs did not feel the same. There were as many lows as

there were highs, and I had been treading this middleground for much of my listening

experience.

At this point I had listened to all of the Led Zeppelin albums many times through, and my

point of view of the group had blossomed from fiery hatred to overwhelming indifference. They

are not my favorite still, but I am not going to furiously change the station whenever they are on

the radio now. I would not say that the group is overrated, but I can recognize that they

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influenced a lot of the sound of rock music during the 1970s. They are adored by plenty of

people, and those people clearly like the band more than I did.

I was prepared to tell Sky that I had listened to the entirety of Led Zeppelin, hoping that

my shift in perspective would lighten the barrage of quips from her. As I walked towards Sky’s

door in our apartment, a chill shot up my spine. I knew that she was always busy with her

classwork, I do not think a day goes by where she had not locked herself in her room to work on

stacks of papers. I knocked softly against the cold, wooden door, just to insure that I was softly

letting my presence be known. I knew Sky’s power, and I didn’t want to give her a reason to use

it.

“Come in!” I heard Sky warmly welcome me to open her door. As I stepped inside, I

immediately notice Sky was huddled inside a burrow of blankets, her kind smile fixated towards

me. Her laptop was sitting on her nightstand adjacent to her bed, displaying the talking heads

from CNN discuss the oh so stable political environment we all were living in.

“Okay, so,” I started, “I listened to Zeppelin.” Sky’s eyes widened, a grin curling up her

cheeks. Whatever I was going to say she knew she would have a chance to chastise me.

“And?” she asked, looking for the weakness in my eyes, “do you still hate them?” I

gathered myself, fulling prepared and aware of what was coming.

“They were… better that I thought they were goi—”

“AH HA!” Sky exclaimed, denying me any satisfaction from finishing my sentence. “I

knew it! I knew you were going to like them! I told you so! ‘​blah blah I don’t like Zeppelin

they’re the worst blah blah,​’ HA!” I was expecting this, and accepting of it all too. Just as long

as it would end the prodding, I was fine with it all. But much to my surprise, Sky pushes this to

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this day. As whenever any musical opinion is mentioned while we are both in the room Sky will

give me a sly grin and side eye.

My personality is notoriously stubborn, so to me it is important that I had this change in

perspective on something so minor as musical taste. Being more open to things that I thought I

would never like benefited me as a person, getting me more comfortable being uncomfortable,

broadening my horizons to new possibilities that I never thought I would enjoy. Is a person’s

opinion of Led Zeppelin important? I would not say so, but the fact that I had changed my mind

on something that I was so explicitly against for so long is enough proof to me that I can change

my mind on anything.