By Mandy Feder
I posed the annual question last weekend, “what do you guys want for Christmas?” Nicole, 23, countered the question with, “nothing mommy, you already do so much.” She has said this as long as she could speak. She follows by asking what I want for Christmas. She”s so sweet, but this makes shopping for her a bit challenging.
This is not the case for Miranda, 18, who wants the world.
When? Now would be nice.
I know exactly what Miranda wants for Christmas, anything Tom Petty. More specifically, to meet Tom Petty. She”s running down a dream.
This has steadfastly been so since she could speak.
It started out from God knows where, at a yard sale when Miranda was 2. I bought the cassette tape, “Damn the Torpedoes,” for a dime. I liked Tom Petty”s music some. She loved that tape. She played it until it wore out.
Each holiday that followed, Tom was somehow involved.
Miranda tried to involve her pre-kindergarten friends in her obsession. They didn”t get it.
During her fourth birthday party, she put the live version of “Breakdown” on. She urged the party-goers to listen around the stereo. When Tom Petty addressed the audience in the sing-along saying, “You”re gonna put me out of a job,” Miranda rolled on the floor, eyes tearing, red-faced, blond hair whipping wildly, laughing. Alas, she was one laughing kid amid 15 totally confused youth.
So I laughed with her. It made her happy. Whenever she was sad about something, I put the song on and we laughed together.
At some point she memorized Petty”s history, first band, birthplace, names of his children, middle name and any other pertinent information she gathered reading about him.
For her sixth birthday, I took her to see Tom Petty”s show in Sacramento at Arco Arena. We were somewhere near the front. The woman next to us noticed that Miranda knew the words to all the songs. “Can I put her on my shoulders?” she asked. The woman seemed OK, so I agreed.
Mr. Petty, what you did next was unprecedented. It was the last nail in the coffin for my child”s unwavering love.
He looked right at her, dropped the spotlight on her and sang “American Girl” right along with her.
I told her I would get her a T-shirt afterward. The man at the concession stand handed her a small shirt. “No,” she said. “I want a large.” He asked her why and told her it would be much too big. “You don”t understand,” she said. “I”m going to wear it for the rest of my life.”
Tom Petty”s songs were morphed regularly. On one road trip, when Miranda was 9, we stopped at a gas station to use the restrooms. The restroom was occupied and she was dancing around singing “I need to go. If you think you gotta pee then you better say so …”
At the next live show when she was 8, she made a valiant effort to get backstage and meet him. I was exiting the restroom when I saw her holding up the sign she made the night before, “I”m your biggest, littlest fan.” She proceeded to conjure up a tear or two and tell security her mommy was back there. I tapped her on the shoulder from behind and shook my head “no” to the guard. He laughed and said nice try though, kid.
The last mother/daughter, Tom Petty-inspired outing, took place at Raley Field in Sacramento on Petty”s birthday.
We were in the second row, center and she was in her early teens. It was an amazing show, Jackson Browne opened. Petty gave the crowd a gift for his birthday, he brought Stevie Nicks onto the stage.
Miranda jumped up and down on the folding seat and sang along with every song. His eyes remained squarely on her. “Maybe he thinks I”m his kid,” she said. “I kind of look like him.” I assured her she was not one of Tom Petty”s offspring.
When he broke into “American Girl,” he reached down to her with a birthday crown. She went ballistic when he smiled and sang “Take it easy, baby …”
When the show was over, he turned to me before walking off the stage and said, “thank you.” I said “no, thank you.” We both smiled, I grasped my daughter”s hand in mine and asked how she liked the show.
“It”s the best day of my life, mombo gombo,” she said.
It”s funny how simply through my daughter”s enjoyment of one person”s music, we have so many great memories.
Once again, this year, I am preparing for a very Tom Petty Christmas.
“Well, she was an American girl, raised on promises. She couldn”t help thinkin” that there was a little more to life somewhere else. After all it was a great big world with lots of places to run to and if she had to die tryin” she had one little promise she was gonna keep … And for one desperate moment there he crept back in her memory. God it”s so painful when something that”s so close is still so far out of reach.” ? Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers
Mandy Feder is the Record-Bee managing editor. She can be reached at mandyfeder@yahoo.com or 263-5636 ext. 32.
