Truth is I liked feeling Lita.

Truth is I liked feeling Lita, trying to oust myself from the pedestrian sorrow of an empty nester.

THE KISS ME DEADLIES BY MELANIE MALINOWSKI 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 121

When my youngest daughter Zen left for college, I joined a Lita Ford cover band, The Kiss Me Deadlies.

We practiced in my best friend Clare’s basement, with a tattered Oriental rug on the damp concrete.

I would clip extensions in my hair and slide into red spandex pants, garbed out as Lita Ford.

“Coy,” Clare said, “You don’t need to come in costume!”

“Oh, yeah,” I said, schluffing off her offense. Truth is I liked feeling Lita, trying to oust myself from the pedestrian sorrow of an empty nester.

My new bandmates cast me as Lita although my hair was short and graying. Blonde wigs and extensions bolstered my dubious believability as Lovely Lita.