“For me, summers in Winnetka, Illinois, were about all these long-haired high school girls riding around in Rabbit convertibles. There were bonfires and new swimsuits to wear, escapades into the city with fake IDs and big, bombastic Midwestern thunderstorms. And, of course, there was the annual Dead-show event. We’d go up to Alpine Valley [Wisconsin] to get away from our parents. That was where I first tried drugs. There was this bunch of girls, and we’d get into scraps and try to keep each other out of trouble. My girlfriends all had brothers that were about two years older, and the summer before senior year, everyone in their circle dated one of us. I remember that I felt pretty that summer.”
“My high school was very Ferris Bueller, The Breakfast Club. John Hughes went there, so at one point the national perception of the teen experience was somewhat based on our high school. We were so giddy and power-bad, but that attitude changed. One night my friend and I were driving her Rabbit home from a party, and we’d both had too much to drink. I was leaning my head out of the passenger side, resting it there because the metal felt cool and nice. Then I noticed the parkway trees whizzing past my hair. I was like, ‘Shit! We’re driving up on the grass!’ That pretty much sobered us up. I guess the whole summer euphoria sort of ended.”
Transcribed from:
Rolling Stone, July 9, 1998