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Can I induct JOAN JETT into the Rock Hall, please?
from: cleveland.com
By Christopher Evans
I hate myself for loving you, JOAN JETT.
It was 1983. The U.S. invaded Grenada. The final episode of M*A*S*H aired. And "The French Song" seduced me - it was a crunchy, three cord pop punk Picasso that painted the portrait of a red-lipstick-and-black-leather guitar goddess. In three and a half minutes it offered the best of the best -- the swagger, the tease, the kinky chorus: J'aime faire l'amour sur tout a trois.
Jett is the only human who looked good in a mullet. She is living proof that you cannot wear too much eye-liner. She chews gum until it pops. She owns the best album title ever: "Glorious Results of a Misspent Youth."
JOAN JETT in concert is an adrenaline rush - hands waving in the air, people dancing on their seats, speaking in tongues, singing along: "I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation."
She is a testament to the health benefits of a rock-n-roll workout. Sinuous, sweaty, she owns the stage and the crowd.
Jett has played gigs from Whisky a Go Go in West Hollywood to West Point to the Isle of Wight and the world beyond.
She has worked with legions of music legends -- the Sex Pistols, the Beach Boys, the Sugarhill Gang. She toured with the Eagles of Death Metal, Motorhead, The Police and Queen. She opened for Green Day and Def Leppard.
Jett inspired a generation of glam-rockers like the New York Dolls, riot grrrl bands like X-Ray Spex, L7, The Donnas, and other women with attitude such as Courtney Love and Chrissie Hynde and Patty Smyth.
She's a pop culture icon. In the omnipresent Orwellian orchestra of cash registers, Mattell released a JOAN JETT Barbie Doll in the '80s. She played an assassin on "Walker, Texas Ranger." Walker killed her with a chorus of karate chops. If only Jett had had a guitar instead of a knife.
She's a total Baltimore Orioles fan. She sang the national anthem the day Cal Ripken Jr. tied Lou Gehrig for consecutive games played. She was there when Ripken broke the record too.
Jett once wanted to be an astronaut. She once compared life - "strong and fragile" - to quantum physics: "It's a particle and a wave at the same time."
I mention all this in the wake of my friend Troy Smith's post: "Rock and Roll Hall of Fame 2015: Who should induct JOAN JETT AND THE BLACKHEARTS?"
Smith lists the usual suspects: Dave Grohl, Alice Cooper, blah, blah, blah.
My name? Nowhere.
I mention the oversight now, in time to correct this lapse.
I realize JOAN JETT seems unattainable. Everything worthwhile appears impossible.
This could happen. I want it to happen. I've got a couple of weeks.
So, put another dime in the jukebox, baby.
And don't worry 'bout my bad reputation.
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