I Was The Daughter of a Rock Icon—Not all Cults are Bad
Published By admin with Comments 0
Recently, while strolling in the depths of the San Fernando Valley, I saw a sidewalk stencil that said, “Not all cults are bad.” I had to laugh. In my memoir, I revisited the old territory of growing up the daughter of a rock icon who I always saw as one part Spock and one part Jesus. I didn’t just compete for his affection in my childhood home, I battled the fervent flock he ministered to, his fans, proselytizing to the feverish believers with his acerbic, satiric siren songs.
My family dynamic was not dissimilar to a cult. I willingly ate, slept, drank, and lived for our larger-than-life leader. Only ours was the good kind because I couldn’t get enough of my father’s gallows humor and unending output of creativity. Sign me up for that kind of isolation.
Each album in my father’s vast catalog is a time capsule, each tune a memory generator transporting me to a fixed location in space and time. Sometimes I’m as tall as his tibia listening to playback in his makeshift studio in our basement in what would become our Laurel Canyon compound. Or I’m tucked in tight in my top bunk in the bedroom I shared with Dweezil, hugging my raggedy Ann and hearing his latest composition warbling through our intercom system. Or I’m suddenly nine and sitting atop a big metal case on casters on the side of the stage at one of Frank’s shows watching my God-like father I idolized smoke and sermonize on his guitar, in a halo of magenta and chartreuse light.
I received my first journal when I was 5, with an inscription from my blood hero in Frank’s beautiful block script in black ink. When I wasn’t writing short stories about my imaginary camels T’Mershi Duween and Sinini, or drawing myself dressed as a nun, I was crudely sketching Gail and Frank sideways and naked, stacked on a mattress like pancakes from DuPar’s. I reported what I saw or hoped to see instead. Or what I feared about UFOs and aliens since Gail told me her Naval officer father was murdered for what he knew about Area 51.
Content retrieved from: https://www.newsweek.com/i-was-daughter-rock-icon-frank-moon-zappa-1941044.
