My favorite musician, rock star, and someone for whom, I am proud to say, I have man love for is Brandon Flowers. If you are not familiar with Mr. Flowers, he is the lead singer of one of the most influential rock bands of the last 15 years, known as The Killers. He has also created two brilliant solo albums, and every year, The Killers write a new Christmas song. I implore you to give these songs a listen, and all the proceeds are donated to Project RED. Listen to their take on “I’ll Be Home for Christmas,” their only Christmas cover song. It’s brilliant. Yes, even I know it is past Christmas, but you will thank me. Brandon also happens to be a practicing Mormon and was, openly, an admirer of Mitt Romney.
A few weeks back, Brandon penned a letter about the Vegas valets, or as he called them, “my people.” It was an open letter about the need to take care of the valets, since parking is no longer free at the casinos. It was a heartwarming letter. He himself, being from Vegas, he always had a desire to be a valet, as were many of his family members. At the end of the letter, he wrote that he isn’t a journalist and, to paraphrase, the current plight of the valet has caused him to speak up. Well, Mr. Flowers, I’m not a journalist either, but a few say I can write, and today, I want to speak up, just like you did, for the plight of the 62 million, “my people.”
So Dear Brandon: Here is “My Shot at the Night.”
With 15 days to go, our country needs a band, and I mean a big influential band to play for America’s Inauguration. It is not only Donald Trump’s inauguration, it is ours. I think, Mr. Flowers, this often gets lost in the shuffle. This isn’t about performing for a person or a party; it’s about performing for a country, and Lord knows our country is out of tune. I have no idea who you supported or didn’t support, and the truth is, I really don’t care. You were the theme song for my first Los Angeles relationship, when all I kept saying to myself, “it was only a kiss.” I bought countless singles of “When You Were Young” and handed them to my female friends, saying listen to this advice. I stood in line for eight hours with a different relationship to get into general admission, so we could be front row at the Forum, to listen to Battle Born. I hate lines, and I hate standing, but my ex convinced me, and it was an amazing 11-hour experience that I would gladly do again. I’ve watched you debate Dawkins on the merits of God, and I’ve watched you on Kimmel’s couch. I’m not a Mormon but have always found it fascinating that the lead singer of a band was. Heck, you have made the idea of the pilgrimage from Nogales to Magdalena sound so incredibly romantic that even I have thought about going on that journey. Obviously, I wasn’t lying about the man love.
Do we who vote and think differently need to throw away our playlists? Are we not allowed to enjoy any sort of entertainment? Are we relegated to “cat scratch fever,” not a dig on Mr. Nugent, but I do need music written after 1978. Is this our punishment for thinking differently? You always prided your band on being anti the “scene” — well, what better way of proving that now? What is going on is truly a national disgrace that I say can’t scream loud enough. That musicians are fearful of playing out of the fear of being excommunicated is a pox on our society. It takes one to stand up, and I nominate you, Mr. Flowers.
Yes, this makes me sad, and I know people will say who cares, and for the record, people who say who cares tend to always care, and yes, I care. My fear is where does it end? Will I only be allowed to go to concerts, if I wear an arm band with a capital D? In your version of “I’ll Be Home for Christmas,” you spoke of the bravery of your teacher Mr. Hanson, standing up in front of 25 children and not only telling the story of the song but singing it a cappella, too. Now I know what I’m asking will take a vast amount of bravery, too, but I promise you won’t be singing alone.
Again, this is an inauguration, it is Americana; it is Sam’s Town and Dustland Fairy Tale. You have kids, you are a father, and you are a church member. Please don’t make me drive to every Mormon Church in Vegas on a Sunday morning to look for you; not that I thought about doing that. I think you get it, sir. America needs a band, and The Killers need a new audience. These are the men and women, young adults and old, who voted for the President-elect. They are black, white, Latino, Jewish, Christian, Evangelicals, women, tons of women, gay, straight and everything in between and of course Mormons. Some band owes it to the country, why not yours? You say you are rock and roll, now prove it. Because in my humble opinion, there is nothing more rock and roll about being counter-cultured, and yes, the Trumpicans are most certainly that.
I realize the odds of this reaching you might be slim to none, and slim has left town. But if this letter does happen to reach you, since you are a Bible man and the Bible is laced with stories of men being the ones, why don’t you be “the one”? Why not be the one rock star who says I’ll play? You are also from Vegas, and I’m “coming out of my cage” and asking you to gamble on us. Gamble on the 62 million, and I promise, you will have 62 million new fans. Yeah, you might take some heat, but I promise you that we will have your back. If you can take anything out of this election cycle, it is that Trump supporters are as rabid as they are loyal. Since the President-elect can no longer barnstorm from town to town with his crowds of 30,000, maybe you are the band to take up the mantle; you are The Killers, after all; oh, and feel free to bring Wayne.