So this morning I read a press release/article on Josh Groban’s upcoming world tour that began “Cat ladies get our [sic] your credit cards…” before proceeding to actually impart the useful information on the tour. As well as the fact that when Groban last toured, four years ago, he sold out all 81 dates on his world tour. But I kept coming back to that first line. Way to perpetuate a stereotype. Curious, I googled the author’s name- Amy Sciarretto, apparently a music journo of some renown in the heavy metal/alternative circles. Well, okay. So maybe she got slammed with the assignment and went WTF? But you know, even if the music isn’t to her taste why on earth did she feel the need to begin the piece with a backhanded slap at who she assumes are going to be the first in line?

Key word there, “assumes.”

Because she’s wrong. Wrongity wrong wrong wrong with a side of wrong sauce.

Are there stereotypical “cat ladies” who also follow Groban and have inappropriate fantasies about him? Probably. But you know, when I was at American Idiot on Broadway, I saw just as many women who could also fit that particular profile in the audience, slavering over the fact that they were about to see Billie Joe Armstrong performing. In fact, the woman who sat in front of me was a diehard Green Day fan, traveling from California for this performance. She happened to have with her in attendance, her twentysomething daughter who in her tight, lowslung jeans, rib-tickler corset top, long, straight hair, and shoulder-grazing hoop earrings, looked “the part,” if there is such a thing, of a Green Day fan far more than her Chanel and Gucci-clad mom.

Am I going to be lining up to get tickets as soon as I can should Josh announce a date anywhere near my neck of the woods? Probably. Given that I’ve been following him for over ten years now and have watched the evolution of his career with a huge amount of interest, bemused by the parallels of his journey within the music industry to mine in publishing (except, of course, without the massive success *g*).

The only thing that might stop me are the variety of hardcore fan that I’ve encountered at Josh’s concerts. They’re of a different ilk altogether, Deadheads for the new millennium, following him from concert to concert, knowing all the lyrics to every song, and the stage patter, and feeling a certain superiority/sense of entitlement from this perceived closeness to the band/act and being utterly obnoxious about it, ruining it for the people around them. Just bad concert-goers from an etiquette standpoint.

Thing is, though, I’ve seen fans of this type for many acts. They’re certainly not exclusive to the Groban camp. And I have no idea if any of them have cats.

Oh, and for the record, the sole cat in my house happens to belong to my son.

And I’m just as likely to line up to be first to buy tickets to a concert by Sting or U2 or Mumford & Sons or Chris Botti or Metallica or Sara Bareilles or Bruno Mars or Eric Clapton or Red Hot Chili Peppers or…

You see where I’m going with this?

These days, especially, music lovers are difficult to categorize. There’s so much genre/boundary crossing and bending. Hell, Groban’s latest album was produced by Rick Rubin. You know, same guy who produced Metallica & Chili Peppers & Beasties.