Violent Femmes
Violent FemmesWhen I was in high school, I bought the Violent Femmes self-titled album. Excited to listen to it, I threw the album cover on the coffee table and blared it on our stereo.
When my mom came home from work, she looked down at the album cover and said in disgust, “Violent Women? Why would you listen to an album called Violent Woman?”
At the time, I rolled my eyes. But later listening to the lyrics—some of them are pretty terrible at times even incel-ish, but the music still sounds good.
Flash forward to a little under forty years later, and my mother and I have gone for a walk in the halls of the hospital while she is waiting to placed in long term care in Toronto.
A worker at the hospital is playing some songs in the waiting room for patients. There are two women there—one is a visitor, the other a patient in a wheelchair. They look about my age and are very welcoming as we sit down and listen to the music with them.
The women were kind of a cross between rocker and punk chicks and looked like they would be fun to party with. They were full of laughs and energy.
The man played“Blister in the Sun” by the Violent Femmes, and the two women started singing and even I did too. My mom didn’t know the song, but it’s upbeat, and she was smiling as he played.
When he finished, I told them the story of my mom saying, “Why would you listen to an album called Violent Women?” and everyone laughed including my mom.
After he left, we stayed and chatted with the women. They too were from London and told me that the musician plays at the Richmond Tavern sometimes. The one who I’ll call Dee said the Richmond used to have a bad reputation but it’s fine now.
We exchanged ages and realized we were both 54. I forgot to ask what high school she want to.
Dee said back in the day, she went to the Rideout once when there was a stabbing and she never went back. She said the Rideout was way worse but the Richmond had the bad reputation. I agree. I only went to the Rideout a couple of times, but it was also know for being violent—stabbings, shootings, fights.
I asked them if they used to go to the Brunswick or Key West which were some of my old haunts where I drank underage, and they both did.
Dee gave me a high five and the other woman told a story about a guy who used to go to Key West said he kept photo of Priscilla Presley on his wall because it looked like her. Creepy.
“You do look like Priscilla Presley,” Dee said, “Especially when you had dark hair.”
“Do you remember Woody from The Brunswick—the bartender?” Dee asked.
“He passed away,” her friend said.
“I heard,” I said.
“They turned the wrong bar into a parking lot,” she said.
We all agreed.
“When I get out of here, the first thing I’m going to do is go to the Richmond. It’s a good time.”
We parted ways with good cheer, and I hope to see them again because they were fun and full of life.
My mother left the interaction smiling too because the woman who looked like Priscilla Presley paid her special attention and even said, “Bye, Mom,” as she wheeled herself into the elevator.
“Music,” Kathryn Mockler, 2025Kathryn Mockler is the author of Anecdotes.Support Send My Love to AnyoneSupport Send My Love to Anyone by signing up for a monthly or yearly subscription, liking this post, or sharing it
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