The first week of freshman year of high school has just ended for my daughter Jane and her best friend Julianne, and we are driving to the Mann Center in Philadelphia for a concert they’ve been anticipating for months.
For the entire three-hour trip, the girls are at the boiling point of giddiness, chattering and giggling nonstop, fixing their hair, applying and re-applying the special dark purple lipstick acquired for the occasion.
“I can’t believe she’s warming up her vocal cords just for us.”
“I can’t believe this is happening.”
“She wrote some of these songs when she was our age.”
“We’re going to be in the same place as her.”
“Do you think she’s in that limo?”
We all wear T-shirts hand-painted in the basement during a sleepover: “Certified Member of the Love Club,” “Buy Me Orange Juice,” and “Tigers on a Gold Leash” on the front, “Lorde 2014 / Pure Heroine” on the back.
Even when they accidentally spray their legs with gasoline while trying to speed our process at a rest stop in Delaware, filling the car with fumes for the remainder of the journey, their spirits are undimmed. Their chauffeur, on the other hand, gets a little cranky. Read More →