Recently I went home to see my family and somehow, over dinner, Kenny Loggins came up. My dad abruptly excused himself from the table and my mom looked at me strangely. I asked if I had done something wrong. She said, “We don’t speak of Kenny Loggins in this house.”
Why? Why don’t we speak of Kenny Loggins in this house? And how did I not know this? I guess it was because this was the first time in all my 28 years that I had EVER mentioned him at all.
Later that night, when we knew the coast was clear and my dad was tucked into bed, my mom filled me in:
When I was 18, my friend Rhona and I were hitchhiking back home to Rockaway from Brooklyn. This guy picked us up and told us that he was Jim Messina. Jim Messina was a musician who was in Buffalo Springfield and who had formed a group with Kenny Loggins [Thanks, Mom]. They were called Loggins and Messina. We had never really heard of him. He told us that he was playing the next night with Kenny Loggins in the city and that we should come and tell the crew that we were invited. The next day we went to the record store and looked at the albums. The guy who picked us up really did look like Jim Messina so we went to the concert.
When we got there, we spoke to the sound crew. They laughed at us and told us that our driver couldn’t have been Jim Messina because Jim Messina had just flown in from LA, but they invited us backstage to watch the concert anyway. We went to their hotel afterwards and hung out. One of the guys told me that they were going to be playing in Bridgeport, Connecticut the following week. My boyfriend [aka MY FATHER] went to school in Bridgeport, so I decided to go. I cooked a lasagna to bring to the band. Before the concert, the sound crew and Kenny Loggins ate my lasagna, and then I watched the concert afterwards with my boyfriend’s sister [aka MY AUNT]. Then the crew invited us to go on tour with them and we went for five days—Virginia, Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Delaware. First I had to go back to my boyfriend’s house [again, MY FATHER] to get my things. He was not happy with me. I remember him standing outside in the cold playing his flute. Since then, if I ever uttered the names Loggins or Messina, he got upset.
Thirty-seven years later, Kenny Loggins came to town, and I wanted to go see him. I told your dad that thirty-seven years had passed and it was time to get over it. We went and Kenny was great. Dad sat there with his arms folded and would not smile or clap. We had meet & greet tickets, so afterwards and we got to take a picture with Kenny. I whispered to him, “I am sure you would never remember this but in 1972 I made you lasagna and went on tour with your road crew.” He was very sweet and lied and said, “I think I remember that.”
Have I mentioned lately that I love my mother?
Lindsey Gentile is an actor, writer, comedienne, and all-around gal-about-town. Every Thursday, she reports from the front lines of single life in NYC. Check out her website HERE. Need more Big City Siren? No problem.
