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Laugh all you want. But Highway Child is the only title I have. No, there’s not any hidden normal moniker on some rumpled birth certificate like Lisa or Jane or Kelly, so get over it. I had to. The story I remember being told goes something like this: my loser parents didn’t know what to call me when Mommy popped me out in the back seat of their stolen Caddy. So, they said something totally stupid like, “We’re just gonna call you the highway child until we think of a name for you.” But they were too stoned to come up with a name, so Highway Child just stuck. When I ended up in L.A. when I was fifteen I decided to shorten it to H.C. And there you have it. The End.

Me, Daddy’s little spring flower? I think not!  I have my own rock and roll story now.

Dandelion Dagger, thanks very much. You know my daddy Derek, blues rock relic from waaay back in the 60s and 70s.  You may even know my notorious mama, Tulip.  She’s the most famous groupie of yesterday. Daddy wants me to follow in his footsteps.  But man, it’s the 1980s, hair is big, and I want to be big, too.  Bigger than Mama, better than Mama. All I need is that mysterious, disappearing bad girl Highway Child that I met at Hollywood High to come speeding back into my life.  Then we can track down little miss southern belle Carolina Clampett, Daddy’s favorite teen backstage queen, and mold her into our third wheel, whether she likes it or not.

Oh, the tales we’ll tell!

Watch out, Sunset Boulevard.  Things are about to get hairy.

 

August 21st is Release Day for me! Please visit my BOOKS page for links to my new releases “Gunning for Groupie Gold” and “Transformations,” and to my first book, “Girls Gone Groupie.”

Welcome to my website. I’m a total novice trying to figure all these things out for myself. It only takes me three hours now when it used to take me five. Getting better!