Oh, the 70's. Of course, there was not just one decade of the seventies, there were many, united by a dubious color palette, a lot of high-backed vinyl chairs woozy with pattern, wall clocks of wood and metal that seemed to take on a life of their own, like tacky webs on living room walls, carpeting run amok in deepening pile, Bell rotary phones in a profusion of styles...well, you get it. If you were there, it's all inexorably (I'm afraid) seared into your consciousness. Cherie Currie and I had that much in common. But while I was preoccupied with baseball, going off to church once a week in my little pea green leisure suit complete with polyster shirt - if there was a God, he should have been offended - Ms. Currie and young Joan Jett were about to be a part of something bigger, thanks in part to svengali Kim Fowley. Fowley - played in another inspired turn of madness by Michael Shannon, who pr...