A story of non-questionable origin (a.k.a. my Dad said so!)
I was the child of two hippies in San Francisco in the early seventies. There were a few houses in The City* where most hippies ended up renting a room at some point in time, if they lived in The City long enough. Janis Joplin was a hippy. My parents were hippies. And so it happened that I, as a baby, lived in the same room where Janis Joplin had once lived. My Grandma, who is very religious, prayed over that room. Generally, Grandma Ruth did not approve.
Over a beer once, a few months ago, I shared this little tidbit about myself with my good friend, Kirk. He's a big Janis Joplin fan.
"That's not true," he said. "Your dad made that up." I couldn't believe him!
"Of course it's true! Why would my dad make something like that up? It's not that unbelievable! Janis Joplin had to live somewhere!"
A little argument ensued. He still doesn't believe me.
I have Janis Joplin on my ipod. I like her music a lot. Ever since that argument with Kirk, though, whenever a Janis Joplin song comes on, I think to myself, "I can't believe that bastard doesn't believe me!"
* Everyone from the Bay Area calls San Francisco "The City".