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aldo-vallon - December 27, 2017
Becca Brown has come a long way since we first found her in that prep school and I blame Jack Black for it wholeheartedly. Back then she was a promising young cellist, probably on her way to becoming the next Yo-Yo Ma. Regardless, she had a bright future ahead of her.
Then comes Mr. Black with his talk of rock’n’roll and partying, putting all sorts of ideas into her malleable head. No adolescent girl is going to choose classical music over the glamorous life of a groupie, except maybe for that bitch Summer. She had Ivey League written all over her.
Only a couple months with a bad influence touching the “hearts” of those kids was enough to corrupt them. Becca went down the dark road of a bassist and wound up where we see her here: leather jacket (sure sign of a no-goodnik), boots, and an old chair. I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that she is living in a punk house. I do not know if those still exist, but if there is still one, then she probably found it.
Let Becca’s life serve as a cautionary tale to all you youngsters so that you do not make the same mistakes. You can either make the sensible decision to play the cello at Carnegie Hall, or find yourself playing bass in a Ramones cover band. The choice is yours.
Photo Credit: Becca Brown Instagram