With her wholesome good looks and carefree parenting style that put the other ‘burb stiffs to shame, Shirley was like a sophisticated, older version of a hippie chick. While her fellow suburbanites were whipping up batches of oatmeal cookies, she was in the garage belting out rock and roll tunes with her kids. She even went so far as to help them paint a beat up old school bus psychedelic, don a body slimming black pantsuit and hit the road with them on tour. How’s that for love and support?
Sure, there are things she could have done differently. Another, perhaps sterner parent, would have had that obnoxious Danny medicated and Laurie ‘s eating disorder treated, or given that lecherous, closeted Rubin the boot. Shirley redeemed these missteps by being the only one in the band – aside from drummer Chris, that is – to consistently hit the high notes. So, it’s for these reasons and more I say: “Hey, Shirley, I think I love you!”