I guess I must have been about eight years old the first time I remember hearing Stevie Nicks’ voice. My mother had just bought ‘Bella Donna,’ Stevie’s first solo album. I was mesmerized by the beautiful woman on the cover, looking so diaphanous and mysterious. When she put the LP on the turntable for the first time and I heard The Voice, I was hooked. Stevie wove a story about a sad, beautiful woman, a circus, and fame that I never quite understood, but enthralled me nonetheless. (I also had a hard time deciphering what she was signing, but oddly loved that, as I strained with my ear next to the speaker. Was that ‘womanish attire,’ or ‘woman is so tired?’)
Mom explained to me that I had been hearing Stevie for a long time. She was the same singer that was on the Fleetwood Mac album, ‘Rumours.’ The one that sang about Dreams and Gold Dust Women. I was so confused. Was she in a band? Was SHE a band? My eight year old brain could not comprehend this new information. However, I knew enough to be excited and ask for a turntable for my room for my birthday. I commandeered the ‘Rumours,’ and ‘Bella Donna,’ albums. I don’t think my mother ever saw them again (I still have them, mother). Days and nights were spent listening to the records over and over, trying to decipher the lyrics and understand the stories. Anytime I head Stevie on the radio, I sang along as loud as I could.
The astute reader will no doubt guess that I was not like the other kids in my small town in Texas. My classmates talked about Transformers and GI Joe. I read comics, watched Lynda Carter spin into Wonder Woman, and generally avoided outdoor activities at all costs. I was the one chosen last at dodgeball, I was shoved into my locker, if I had had glasses they would have been flushed down the toilet. I was also the Odd Man Out in my family. My parents marriage was not a happy one, and more often than I care to remember my sisters and I would huddle together in my bedroom listening to the sounds of arguments emanating from the other room.
Stevie was my refuge, and she was always there with me to guide me. When I needed escape, she could wrap me in the velvet robe of her voice, and transport me to a magical land of Silver Springs, and Gypsies with Wild Hearts. But she was also a teacher. Through her lyrics, I learned when to be strong, when it was ok to be vulnerable, and when to rely on others. I learned that a Landslide may bring me down, but I will be the better for having survived it.
As I got older so much changed during my teen years. My parents divorced, and we moved several times. The constant upheaval just added to my sense of isolation. The only constant in my life was Stevie.
When we finally settled, I began to do theater in earnest, and that’s when I realized just how different I was from the other boys. Rather than being Happy that the final piece of my Self fell into place, I was instead driven into despair. Teen years are filled with the melodrama of angst as it is, when add the burden of a different sexual orientation on top of that, and it becomes almost too much to bear. I hit an all time low. Crying every night, I just wanted to feel normal. I wanted to BE normal. I listened to all of Stevie’s darkest songs, ‘Sisters of the Moon,’ ‘Gold Dust Woman,’ ‘Long Way To Go.’
The only other solace I had were my comic books. Every Wednesday without fail, I would pick up my new issues of Wonder Woman and The New Teen Titans and read them at the theater during rehearsals. In the pages of The New Teen Titans, the dark and mysterious Raven with the husky voice was also having a tough time. She had to hide her emotions just like me. She also looked great in a cape, like my Stevie. One day at rehearsal for The Velveteen Rabbit (where I played the small, but critical role of Toy Soldier #2), I was reading the latest issue. In those days, there was letter column in the back, where you could write to the editor of the comic. If you were lucky, they printed it along with your name and address. On this day, there was a letter from Tony Lower. As he signed off his letter, he closed with ‘Don’t you think Raven would make a great singer/songwriter, a la Stevie Nicks?’ I’m pretty sure I screeched out loud. There was someone else I this world who thinks like I do. Someone who loves Stevie Nicks. Someone who loves Raven. Someone who UNDERSTANDS the connection.
As soon as rehearsal was over, I raced home and typed out a letter to this Tony guy.
To my surprise & delight, he wrote me back:
And so began a series of letters, as we learned more and more about each other. He learned to call me Randy, I learned to call him Antony. He introduced me to rare Stevie songs I had never heard, and we discussed lyrics in incredible detail. As I got more comfortable with Anthony, I debated telling him everything about me. I mean, what if he didn’t understand? My few coming out experiences had gone not well.
I am so glad I worked up the courage, because it turned out Anthony was gay too. I had someone who really Got Me, and could help me navigate the uncharted waters of a newly out West Texas Teen. Anthony was so unapologetic in his identity. He didn’t give two fucks what anyone else thought. He was living what Stevie was teaching. He even got to meet her during a concert stop, and I don’t just mean a handshake during the Edge Walk (but I’ll let him tell that part of the tale).
Our letters were my lifeline, and I waited anxiously for each one, but it wasn’t enough. So at the tender age of 19 and not knowing any better, I wrote Anthony about coming to Philadelphia to visit. He was excited and said yes. I hopped a greyhound and traveled three days, alone, to get there.
We spent a week together, and much of it is a blur in my memory. We didn’t even take any photos to document the visit. I just remember coming home to Texas knowing I had made a best friend for life.
Letters became emails and phone calls, became texts and Facebook. Before we knew it 20 years had passed and we had not been in the same room together again. Life gets in the way of Living. I met Tom and built a Life with him. Anthony met Nick and did the same. Still, we kept in touch, nearly everyday.
Anthony and Stevie were there for me in the darkest moments of my life. When my father committed suicide, Anthony listened to me cry over the phone, and Stevie sent me ‘Street Angel‘. When Tom and I had a break in while we were home, Anthony would drop everything and take my call, reassuring me that I would be safe again, and Stevie gave me strength with ‘Illume‘. For many years. ‘Gypsy‘ was the song that made me think of Anthony, but that would change in 2011. On the 20th Anniversary of our friendship, Stevie released the album, ‘In Your Dreams.’ The moment we heard the song, ‘For What It’s Worth,’ Anthony and I both knew this was OUR song.
In 2013, Anthony was to turn 50 years old. Nick decided to throw him a surprise party. He called and asked me to come. Tom and I flew up to Philly, and surprised him.
Making up for lost time, Anthony and I now see each other at least once a year, either meeting Lynda Carter in Nashville, wrecking havoc in Washinton DC, or stalking Phil Jimenez in New York.
Now in 2016, Anthony and I will get to see our first Stevie concert together when The 24 Karat Gold tour comes to Dallas in October. To be able to share our love of Stevie will be the highlight of our 25 year friendship.
The Generic, Non Specific Stevie Nicks Podcast 