My friend Sandi and I at Rocky Point – an amusement park in Rhode Island (think “Adventureland”) – after going on The Flume, a roller coaster-type experience that ends with the cars careening through water. Hence: our drenched appearance. We were both underage so no, we did not go into the Beergarden. Rocky Point is no more, alas.
Years later, Sandi and I stand in the rain on Clark Street in Chicago, waiting for the 22 bus to take us downtown. It occurs to me now that this looks like the album cover for the first LP of a navel-gazing indie-folk duo. Or maybe something a little bit angrier. This was during the first wave of the endless Era of This Guy, and I am grateful he found me attractive, considering my outfit here. (Kidding. But still: what’s with the bandana, Sheila.) Sandi, Mitchell and I were headed to see Schindler’s List. My main memory of this day is Sandi bursting into stormy sobs at the end of the movie and Mitchell holding her in the aisle.
These photos are so great! Especially the second one. It really does look like an album cover, or a photo from some interview where you were a singer-songwriter duo in another life.