![]() Now, flash forward more decades than I am willing to admit, I’m the mom of the 15-year-old concert-goer, navigating the world of tickets, transportation, and “merch,” and advising on how best to spend hard-won babysitting money. While I remember every detail of that epic show, perhaps especially the moment when Joey Ramone handed me a guitar pick, more important to me now is the heroic example of parenting set by my mom. After we finally got in, a lovely bouncer took one look at us and said to my mother, “You can go back there and hang out – I’ll keep my eye on them.” ![]() ![]() ![]() She drove me and my friend to the show with the intention of reading a good book in the parking lot, but ended up coming in with us when we got stopped at the door for being underage and without ID. ![]()
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