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When I was twelve, I was ugly. I had braces, with along with my extra-large schnoz and broomstick hair, I looked like a keebler elf version of a typical junior high dork.
When I was twelve, my dad decided that it would be fun to travel to Montreal. One, he wanted my sister and I to practice the French we had been studying since the 3rd grade. But also, he thought it might be nice to show his two fairly-suburban-with-no-popular-fashion-sense daughters what a real metropolitan city looks like.
We checked into our fashionable metropolitan hotel. My sister and I, dressed in lovely ensembles of clashing paisley shorts with striped polo shirts, stood off to the side studying the similar pattern on the hotel carpet as my dad checked in. As we got ready to get on the elevator to our room, the doors opened and ALL of the members of the Counting Crows got off the elevator.
How did I know? You have to remember that this was the early 90's. Not only were the Counting Crows sitting on one of the #1 singles on the Billboard charts, but I could tell those dreadlocks of the lead singer, Adam Duritz, from miles away.
Of course, I got shy. We whispered to my mom that those were the Counting Crows.
"Who are the Counting Crows?" she screamed.
"SHHHH Ma-ah-hm. Geez. They are a band we like," we replied in total disbelief that we could ever have such an embarrassing mom.
We refused to go over to ask for their autograph. So Mom did the unthinkable. She hitched up her acid wash jeans, readjusted her vinyl fanny-pack, and marched over to where they were standing.
My sister and I were mortified. I could barely stand to look at her. I went over to the glass wall that separated the lobby from the pool and tried to imagine jumping in there. Anything to get away.
Soon she was back. Apparently, she asked them if the were the Counting Crows. They said yes. Then she asked why they were in Montreal. They said they had just had a concert and were trying to get back to L.A. Then she asked what they were doing (I don't know what she asked this, what can I say?), and they said they were making a fax.
When she finally returned to where we were waiting, I asked eagerly, "What were they like? Were they cool?"
She replied, "Oh, I liked them."
"Really?"
"Yes," she said matter-of-factly. "They were obviously Jewish."
Oh Mom.
