We saw bands like The Go Go’s, Bad Religion and Social Distortion before they even had record deals. We hung out with Exene from the band X, Iggy Pop, and members of The Clash. It was all very exciting and a great time to be young.
Often, when I ventured out, my mother showed up, and my friends had to inform me of her arrival. There was a night my friend, Samantha, who had made her way backstage to where I was hanging out, saw my mom walking into the club.
“Brenda, your mom is looking for you, and you wouldn’t believe what she is wearing,” Samantha yelled from across the hall.
Damn it!
I pictured my mom’s outfit of choice for driving us to school. I hoped that she had the good sense to put on something more appropriate. I had my fears. I waited for Samantha to give me the details.
“She has on her overcoat with her pajamas peeking out underneath and a head scarf.”
Yes, that’s the outfit. I’m gonna crawl in a hole now.
That head scarf was what she called a “babushka,” which made her look homeless. Samantha was laughing hysterically.
“Easy for you to find enjoyment in my misery,” I told her. “This is so embarrassing, Sam.”
Eventually, my mother caught up with me and read me the riot act. There was nowhere to hide as I watched kids my age pointing at me and laughing. She yelled at the top of her lungs so everyone could hear. It was grueling, but that was my only punishment. This happened several more times. She managed to show up wherever I was and pulled me into her car. When I was under her control, she would often let me go back into the club and allowed me to stay.