The year was 1983. I was 13 at a Christian summer camp in the Poconos of Northeastern Pennsylvania.
In the mid-mornings, we had circle time. Eight to ten us in each circle with a counselor discussing various topics. The topics of circle time varied from the deep and biblical, such as faith and sex, to light and cultural, such as movies and school.
Today’s topic — music.
The counselor kicked it off, “Let’s go around and start with everybody’s favorite song…”
My circle just happened to be all girls on this morning. The go-around started with the girl sitting to my left and went clockwise. I would be last. This was the summer of Def Leppard’s (really, Mutt Lange’s) mega-hit, Pyromania. In fact, in just a few weeks, they’d be playing the Allentown Fairgrounds. All the cool kids I knew were gonna be there. Anticipation was high. One of the older kids at the camp ran around all week in his Union Jack shorts, made famous by drummer Rick Allen in the videos.
Not surprisingly, every 13 and 14-year-old girl in our circle’s favorite song choice was from that album. “Photograph…Nah, Rock of Ages…Photograph for me, too…Mine’s Too Late for Love…” All 7 or 8 of them.
Then they got to me.
Now I liked Pyromania as much as the next teenager (Still do. My choice would have been Foolin’). But I just couldn’t do it. I’ve spent much of my life trying to fit in, but at this moment, with 8 teenage girls and a counselor putting me on the spot about my favorite song, I was inspired. Channeled even. I was fortified in my rebellion.
“Tom Sawyer. Rush.”
And there was a collective groan.
“Oh, you would…Who’s Rush?…I’ve never heard that one before…Those guys suck!…You geek!”
And such was the beginning of my life as an outted Rush fan.
(more to come…)
