LAST. DAY. OF. PACKING. Thursday morning, countdown on til 9am Friday, when the movers arrive with their big magic truck that will take all of this crap far, far away from us, to a land called The Bronx, never to be seen again (until January 2016). We are dragging. Fingertips bleeding, backs sore, hands cracked from all of the packing (only a slight exaggeration). Our wonderful friend Alexina Carothers came over the night before to help and best thing she could have given us was the Otis Redding station on Pandora. Mellow, soulful, perfect for end of our 2nd day of hell. Next AM, Anthony put it on as soon as we got up, ready for our final day. But it wasn’t working. Everything sucked. We had hit a packing wall and it was only 10am. I needed something more. I NEEDED DEF LEPPARD. And it was amazing. Pour Some Sugar On Me was naturally the first song, followed by Journey’s Don’t Stop Believing, then White Snake and Here I Go Again. I was in heaven. Anthony walked into the closet where I was sorting clothes and took this picture — I was rocking out to Aerosmith and wearing my old motorcycle helmet. It just felt like the right thing to do. He laughed at me and asked why why why but I didn’t care. I was back.
Of course two hours later I hit a dark spot and it was all Indigo Girls and Tori Amos everywhere. But for a brief shining moment, the hair bands saved me. Thank you Joe Elliott, hottest lead singer in rock history, and you too Rick Allen, one-armed drummer phenom. You and your band are singlehandedly responsible for getting my home packed up. I wanna rock.