I was driving the car with my mom in the passenger seat and my husband and kids in the back. Tom Petty’s song, “Last Dance With Mary Jane” came on the radio, and my mom said, “This song is about me.” I just kind of looked at her, and then she said, “No, really, I swear! I was in Indianapolis, staying in a hotel by myself, right near Market Square Arena. I was having a good time, listening to some loud music and dancing around in my underwear. All of a sudden, I realized the curtains were wide open, and a man in the hotel across the street was watching me from his window! It was Tom Petty! He was in town on tour. I about died. When this song came out, I knew it was about me.”
Normally I just ignore my mom’s stories, but I had to question this one a bit when she said, “But you know, that was like 20 years ago and I looked a lot better then.” I said, “I’m pretty sure the song isn’t that old. I think it came out when I was in college. Isn’t it actually about marijuana?” She said, “Oh, maybe it was more recent than that. I guess he was too far away to tell how old I was. Still, that’s my song. Your Mama inspired a Tom Petty song!” She also told me that she and a friend were responsible for turning the Black Panthers into a peaceful group, that she gave them the idea to promote Sesame Street for urban children, that Mel Gibson felt her up in an airport, and that when I was in jr. high a boy pulled a knife on me but I karate kicked him down a flight of stairs. When I said I thought I’d remember it, she said I must have blocked it out.