I read Marni's post today, and it reminded me of a very special life moment for me.
When I was a very little boy, we used to live next to a family who had two teenage children - whom I thought were supercool. At the age of 6, the girl in the house used to babysit me (she would have been around 14 I guess) and play me her vinyl records. She was a bit of a bogan, but at the age of 6 I could not imagine anything cooler than black ugg boots, skinny tight black jeans and a flannelette shirt.
About this time I started to acquire an taste in rock music; the band who really captured my imagination were KISS. Here were these 4 really mysterious men wearing make up and lycra suits, one whose tongue was so long that there were rumours he'd had it lengthened. They played tunes that made this little 6 year old think he was somewhere a million miles away from Perth suburbia. (yes, the suffocation of suburban life was getting to me even at 6 years of age...)
So when my mother heard that KISS were playing a live rock concert at the Perth Entertainment Centre the following year, she decided to do the most amazing thing. She camped overnight in front of the centre with my best friend's mother to secure tickets for us all.
And so it came about that my first ever gig was KISS, at 7 years of age. Mum bought me some skinny black jeans and a Paul Stanley t-shirt, we turned up at the gig, the only slight dampener being when Mum made me put cotton wool in my ears.
I love my Mum. She rocks, much more than KISS .