The scene: My home in Knoxville, Tennessee, shortly after 6:00 p.m.
Cast: Me (16 years old), My Dad (much older)
Background: My Dad was the manager of a local Holiday Inn near the University of Tennessee campus and downtown Knoxville. Every now and then, bands who were playing in the area would stay there.
This conversation occurred mere months after I was deeply scarred by the Prince/Purple Rain tour debacle.
Dad, just arriving home from work: “Oh! I wanted to tell you. This group of kids is staying in the hotel…”
Me: “A group of kids???”
Dad: “Yes. A musical group.”
Me, growing more excited since I was a music junkie: “WHO???”
Dad: “I can’t…remember…their name. I don’t know, young kids. A BUNCH of them. They’re famous.”
Dad: “They have a huge hit. They’re brothers and sisters.”
Me: “THE JETS????”
Dad: “YES! That’s it. The Jets. Nice kids!”
Me: “THE JETS ARE STAYING AT YOUR HOTEL??? AND YOU TALKED TO THEM??? EEK! CAN I GO OVER THERE?”
Dad: “Nah, they aren’t really staying at the hotel.”
Me: “NOT. FUNNY.”