UNEASY Pussy Galore

While photographing them in a Toronto park, I mentioned that I had Cocksucker Blues (Robert Frank’s 1972 Rolling Stones documentary) on video. The band had some time to kill, so they drove out to where I lived with my family in the suburban neighborhood of Etobicoke.

The family had recently made a rule that smoking was only allowed in one room in the house, and where we were watching the movie wasn’t that room. So they were lighting up, and I was like—uh-oh. But I didn’t want to look uncool in front of Pussy Galore, so I didn’t tell them they couldn’t smoke.

My little sister Meghan was home, so I went upstairs to talk to her. “Please,” I said, “make an exception, I don’t want to make a bad impression on these people.” A few minutes later she walked into the room, and as everyone turned to look at her, she said, “I wouldn’t want to be you when Mom gets home.“

My chances of ever becoming a cool person rapidly decreased at that moment.

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