I’d never forget the day my ex told me to check out the trailer for The Runaways.
"What is this Little Debbie BULLSHIT?" I said. "This is a disgrace."
Director Floria Sigismondi's "pretty-in-glam" Runaways feature isn’t the underground punk scene I remember from Los Angeles in the 1970's.

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I was 18 in Long Beach in 1977 — that’s the southern working class lip of the LA Basin. My hippie girlfriend— who once looked like Joan Baez— cut off all her hair one day, made a minidress out of a plastic Hefty bag, and started shredding on a bass guitar she pulled out of a pawn shop. She wrote "Suck My Cock" on it with a black Sharpie. We became punk impresarios overnight.
Joan Jett, one of The Runaways' founders, was an executive producer on the Sigismondi film. I fondly remem…