Scar Tissue (65 page)

I’ve never met a girl that had more style or spunk than Jennifer Bruce. I don’t think anyone has. We used to drag ourselves out of bed and grab a simple breakfast at Joseph’s Café in the heart of Hollywood. I wasn’t doing too well and she was right behind me. Bless her heart, we loved and needed each other in the worst way. 1985.

This is Christmas. Right out of a fairy tale! It would have been the second or third Christmas that Jennifer had come back to Michigan with me. We were still in love and still perpetrating classic ’80s California fashion. 1986.

This is from the “I love my mama” series of photos. There were dozens, but I could use only a couple. There is no stronger or more reliable creature on Earth than the Mother. This is mine at her backyard wedding to Steve Idema. Lowell, Michigan. Summer of 1973.

To this day, Mom’s house in Michigan is still my greatest sanctuary for peace and relaxation. Here we are in the yard sometime in the mid ’90s. As you can see from her shirt, she is forever my number one fan, and like my dad, she has been from day one.

When I was fourteen, I moved back to Michigan to be with the family for the birth of my youngest sister, Jenny (the baby in the picture). I stayed for the first semester of ninth grade and attended Lowell High. By this time, I was a pretty regular pot smoker, and I’m probably stoned in this photo.

This must be our first U.S. tour when we played Top of the Rock in my hometown of Grand Rapids, Michigan. The next day the paper wrote, “If I had a son like that, I’d shoot him.” My mom wrote a letter to the editor putting them all in their places. Flea and I were having fun. 1985.

Hard to say where the hell I got my sense of style from. This was taken a mere few months after the Red Hot conception, and I had no real performance role models. I think I wore whatever I could find nearby. Back then we would often end up wearing each other’s clothes. 1984.

My book publishers tried to kick this photo out of the lot, but I thought it was way too picturesque. Notice the flowers, my favorite hat, and the buttons on my jacket. 1972.

Childhood portrait of my mom. She reminds me of my amazing nephew Jackson in this picture. Funny how a family thread keeps on weaving its way through the generations. What a cutie. 1940-something.

In 1974, the single most important possession in my life was my fiberglass Bane skateboard with Cadillac trucks and fan urethane wheels. The second most important was my li’l sis, Julie. This is us sharing a bit of love for the camera on summer vacation.

My mom took pictures of me after I had been crying over a tricycle wipeout. I think it shows her skill as a photographer. It was just the two of us living together at the time in West Los Angeles, and we made the most of our togetherness.