A chance meeting the author in Costa Rica, Barb Morrison, would not fit the usual type of person I would connect with on a social level, but they just came across as so warm and authentic. Accompanied by their wife, it was quite comfortable to hang out with them. During our couple visits they dropped some tidbits about their life from a poor, dysfunctional family in NYC growing up in a female body, but wanting nothing more than to be just like their brothers and a total badass at that. During our conversation, they casually let it be known that they had written a book about their life growing up.
Now... I am not a big book reader, let alone be open to reading books about lifestyles I cannot relate to and have little or no interest in. And if all that was not enough to ensure I had no interest in reading this book, I just had to alone look at the title. Just to be courteous and with a hint of mild curiosity (mainly because there was something about this person and their cheerful, fun zen-like presence that really intrigued me), I thought I would load down a sample of the book.
Whoa! Edgy and raw right out the gate. Again, the first few pages confirmed this book was not for me. But, I thought the least I could do was finish the sample. To my surprise, I was halfway through the sample, I was hooked and bought the book.
NYC Punk rock scene (back when I was discovering drugs on disco) was their ticket to allow her to explore and indulge in the life they were born to lead and to get people to stop trying to stuff them into a dress and conform to what parents and society expectations.
A great roller-coaster of a story that immerses you into a life almost no-one could comprehend. A life lived as a raunchy punk rock band member, combined with the gritty street life of addiction on the streets and drug dens of NYC. A memoir that goes from badass to Buddha. An excellent read for those of us who think we are enlightened and seen and done it all.