Given the complaints I received after ambushing my readers the last time with pictures of the delightful Ms. Berry, I feel compelled to offer fair warning that there is another picture of her linked from this post. Be sure to take appropriate precautions.
Following my original post on Lorraine Berry, I found another entry by her at Talking Writing titled Smells Like Regret. It turns out there is more to her story of marital angst. From very early on in her marriage she was pining away for an alpha who had hit it and quit it when she was 19:
He was a disc jockey at the U-Dub’s KCMU…
One night, he asked me out. We split a bottle of Irish whisky and ended up lying on an outdoor basketball court—red and white in the floodlights—after midnight, making love.
For a while, we were lovers. And then, suddenly, we were not.
This guy went on to co-found the record label which signed Nirvana. Since he once rogered her while drunk on a basketball court she knew his secret dream had always been to marry her, but she had somehow let him slip away. Then her husband came along and trapped her in marriage, forcing her to pine away (while nursing their daughter) for the man who once nailed her when she was 19:
I was a new mom. A graduate student. And an unhappily married woman.
Every time I heard “Smells Like Teen Spirit,” I’d think back to what had been. Wonder what my life would be like if I hadn’t drifted out of that relationship.
ok. Time to put the hoods down. Here is what appears to be a much younger Lorraine Berry.
Information on welding mask image available at wikipedia commons.
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