. We were acutely aware that, as band trajectories go, we were skipping the line. “You’re supposed to start by playing for the bartender on a Tuesday night,” was how Heather’s husband put it. But we had gotten into this late, and we didn’t have time to waste.
So we lugged our instruments onto the porch, plugged in our amps, and flipped the switches. What came out of the speakers was the screeching howl of feedback. I figured the rock and roll gods would come to bite us at some point. If you’re a working mother — any kind of mother — you know that things are going to go wrong from time to time. That’s why you need a solid group of friends. Long before we were a band, Heather, Imge, Leila, Martha and I were a surrogate family. We met when our oldest kids were babies, and we started getting together for pizza every Friday night — weekly gatherings that evolved into holiday meals and joint vacations and the knowledge that we could count on each other for anything.
More recently, we’ve been building songs together. Heather wrote a song about a dead relative’s ashes that sat on her kitchen counter — though it’s really a song about living your life without regret — and a song for her 25th wedding anniversary, which she describes as what would happen if Sid Vicious wrote a love song. Leila wrote a song about watching her daughter face the challenges of teenage-hood, and how she once went through it all too.
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