October 22, 2016: When I was between boyfriends in the early nineties (it would actually turn out to be the same boyfriend), I’d duck into Reading International (RIP) in Harvard Square and sneak a peek at a book about then-ascendant Guns N’ Roses. I didn’t realize it at the time, but Guns N’ Roses was my boyfriend substitute. Today Salon posted “Are You My (Substitute) Mother?,” my piece about how celebrities make pretty good fill-ins for missing people in our lives—and there’s nothing wrong with that. Perfectly normal. No psychological cause for concern. Move along, people. Nothing to see here.