Debbie's angelic alter ego. My parents liked her.
Virgin Mary. The irony.
Yeah, catholic girl.
There are no photos of me in Sergio Valente 'pour on a pair' jeans, a t-shirt, shag hair, and liquid lip gloss. In a haze of Chantilly perfume. The 80s.
That's me on Tuesday, October 26, 1982.
At the best rock and roll concert of my life. Could be the drugs talking. Let's just say everything came together real nice.
The Diver Down tour. Second time I'd seen Van Halen. Running with the Devil tour in 1979 was the first. Tell me you can't hear the opening chords of that song right now.
Eddie Van Halen set our world on fire. His guitar riffs—the soundtrack of Lake Huron summers.
David Lee Roth. Pure showman.
I'd look at the Creem magazine posters of him on my bedroom wall as a teenager, and things would get hot between us. "Reach down between my legs and ease the seat back."
Running the gauntlet of Toronto cops at the entrance to Maple Leaf Gardens. The crush. Cute guys in denim jackets with long hair pressed against me.
The good stuff was already in me. A flask or two made it through. Thick pot smoke mocking security. A garnish for my altered state.
By the end of the setlist, I was flying.
Panama was on the next album. 1984. A classic rock and roll anthem.
The shots of packed concert halls in the video. Imagine me out there. Holding my Bic lighter high.
Fuck, I love her. So much fun.
She's still around.
We didn't take selfies. Certainly not in the bathroom. That's where we talked about our problems. Scratched our initials with a boys in a heart on a stall wall. Bummed cigarettes and tampons.
Most of my photos from that time are of the people with me. That's what was important.
I'm not being judgy. I love seeing your beautiful faces. In studio lighting.
But me as the subject of interest. Not the point.
And it's a value to remember.
No one took cameras to concerts.
It was all down to memory. While under the influence.
The second video is a fucking gem.
Thank you, Eddie, Alex, Michael, and David Lee. 🤘🎸🔥