i don't think enough has been written about the woman who, whether you like it or not, goes by the name mrs. billie joe armstrong.
when i was in the midst of my green day/american idiot fever, i attended a show in atlantic city where billie joe armstrong was participating in a vh1 tribute featuring elvis costello.
i know, i know i've written about that before, but not this part: i ended up sitting in the row right in front of adrienne armstrong and her friends, but i didn't realize it until i felt this heat, this presence behind me in my blue plastic aisle seat.
i turned around and there they were: a gaggle of pre-teen girls dressed from head-to-toe in green day apparel.
adorable...
that's when i saw mrs. armstrong; the girls had stalked her out and were ready to descend upon her person with cameras, autograph books and cell phones --
i relinquished my seat so they could move closer to her...
she made her way through the aisle after a woman standing next to me called her, and, as she did, i heard some man randomly ask her what she was doing at taj mahal?
she smiled and answered, "my husband is playing tonight." that's it. completely normal in her unassuming jeans and dark hoodie.
she approached the little girls and said, "i have to go talk to some people but i'll be right back, i promise."
i looked at those little girls and thought, 'oh god, i hope she does come back, i mean she promised!'
i knew that none of my adult friends could appreciate the weirdness of the moment; they were long past the point of rolling their eyes whenever i'd mention green day -- instead i turned on my cell and called one of my teenage guitar students, max -- (max has always been a good listener, even to the craziest stuff) --
a few minutes later, adrienne armstrong returned and, with honest affection, she signed the autograph books and took the cell phone pictures with every last one of those little girls...
how about that~
i turned around and there they were: a gaggle of pre-teen girls dressed from head-to-toe in green day apparel.
adorable...
that's when i saw mrs. armstrong; the girls had stalked her out and were ready to descend upon her person with cameras, autograph books and cell phones --
i relinquished my seat so they could move closer to her...
she made her way through the aisle after a woman standing next to me called her, and, as she did, i heard some man randomly ask her what she was doing at taj mahal?
she smiled and answered, "my husband is playing tonight." that's it. completely normal in her unassuming jeans and dark hoodie.
she approached the little girls and said, "i have to go talk to some people but i'll be right back, i promise."
i looked at those little girls and thought, 'oh god, i hope she does come back, i mean she promised!'
i knew that none of my adult friends could appreciate the weirdness of the moment; they were long past the point of rolling their eyes whenever i'd mention green day -- instead i turned on my cell and called one of my teenage guitar students, max -- (max has always been a good listener, even to the craziest stuff) --
a few minutes later, adrienne armstrong returned and, with honest affection, she signed the autograph books and took the cell phone pictures with every last one of those little girls...
how about that~
