I've told this story before. But it's one of my favorites.
It wasn’t a long meeting. But it was memorable.
Winter 1973. I’m an engineer at KABC and KLOS radio in Los Angeles.
Essentially I worked as a board op for KLOS. That meant I played the
records and commercials. Union rules prohibited the disc jockeys from
doing anything other than turning on and off their microphoness. Oh,
and they could talk. They got that concession.
It was a cool job. KLOS played what today we call “classic rock.” Album cuts and Layla.
I loved the music and the jocks were all terrific dudes. I’m still
friends with Jim Ladd, Marc Driscoll, and Dion Jackson from that
talented staff.
Occasionally I would have to go across the hall and handle KABC talk
shows. That was fun too. Talk radio in those days welcomed different points of view, not just one. Imagine such a concept – a balance of ideas. I know. It was crazy.
I’m working one Saturday night on KLOS. I’m on my break. It’s about
9:45. The 10:00 KABC talk show host was Elliott Mintz. There was a
long hallway at KABC/KLOS that led to the side entrance. I step out of
our studio and happen to glance down the hallway. Holy shit! There’s
John Lennon and Yoko Ono buzzing to be let in. They were Elliott’s
scheduled guests. ( Elliott is still Yoko’s publicist, by the way.)
I duck my head into the KABC control room and say I’ll get them. Then I
barrel down the hall and usher them in. I introduce myself and shake
hands with them both. Yoko’s handshake is firmer than John’s.
He’s wearing a blue jean shirt and khakis. She’s wearing a huge black fur that must weigh sixty pounds.
I’ve got about twenty seconds alone with John & Yoko as I lead them down this long hall. What do you say to them?
At the time there was a very popular album by the National Lampoon that
featured a very funny send-up of John called “Magical Misery Tour.”
In that song he’s forever yelling, “I’m a fuckin’ genius!”
I don’t know what possessed me but I say to John, “So… what’s it like
being a fuckin’ genius?” Without breaking stride he gives me a big
grin and says, “Pretty nice, actually!”
That was it. We arrive at the studio and Elliott takes it from there. I
couldn’t even hang back to watch the interview. I was due back at KLOS
at 10:00.
But it brings up an interesting question. If you get to meet someone
you idolize and you have time to ask him just one thing, what would it
be? I’m sure had I known in advance that I would be meeting John I
would have prepared something a little less – how should I say it? –
obnoxious, but I just had the sense he would take the question in the
spirit it was asked and in fact he did.
I didn’t have time to ask Yoko a question. Which is probably good. I
don’t think she would have seen the whimsy in “What dead animal is
that?”
So there’s my twenty second brush with greatness… and his wife.
Here's Magical Misery Tour.
49 comments :
Jim Ladd worked in pirate radio.
As Robert Newton: Haar haaarr, Jim Laadd!
Here's my dining-out story for about 35 years. I idolized the work of Warner Bros. cartoon director Chuck Jones since I was a teenager. For about a year in the 1980's, I lived in Los Angeles. Before I left, I decided I simply just had to meet him. I phoned his office and got hold of his daughter, who was running his business at the time, and a week later, I got to interview *him* via telephone. At the end of the interview, I pushed my luck and asked Jones if he'd do a drawing of a famous Looney Tunes character for us. Four days later, the following FedEx package showed up:
https://moviemovieblogblog.wordpress.com/2016/02/03/more-chuck-jones-bragging-rights/
And that's all, folks!
The funniest thing about "Magical Misery Tour" is that almost ALL of it was pulled — verbatim — from Lennon's then-recent interview with Rolling Stone. I read the interview long after hearing the record and laughed all over again. They were satirizing him with his own words.
The wiki speaks thus:
""Magical Misery Tour (Bootleg Record)" is a parody of Lennon's primal therapy-inspired songwriting style. The song's lyrics include the repeated cry of "Genius is pain!" and were taken directly from Lennon's 1970 Rolling Stone interview, later published in book form as Lennon Remembers. Tony Hendra plays Lennon..."
"According to Hendra in his 1987 book Going Too Far, Lennon was shocked by the depiction of him in "Magical Misery Tour" and walked out when a radio DJ played the track when Lennon and Ono were guests on his show."
A close call...
At least you didn't say, "Remember that band you used to be in, The Beatles? That was cool."
I did get the chance to meet Spike Milligan at a convention for the Goon Show, a radio program that influenced many works, including Monty Python.
He was not in a good mood that night, but knowing his love for music (and the fact that he played a couple of instruments) I asked, "Are you a fan of John Kirby?" He didn't visibly brighten, but he answer that they were a group that re-interpreted the classics in a Jazz context.
If I were to meet Duke Ellington, I would ask if I could see the scores for his some of his works.
Jim Ladd ran a show called "Headsets", which was programmed to be enjoyed through headphones.
One night, as my wife and I pulled into the garage of our complex, the show is playing and the vocalist dreamily sings, "Donn't yooo fahhhget meeee..." and my Good Lady Wife, who, by her own admission, only half-listens to lyrics turned to me, mouth agape. With what we have dubbed "Marital Shorthand", I quickly processed this look as, "Did I just hear what I THINK I heard?" What I said immediately was, "For-GET! ForGET!"
We've giggled about this for almost thirty years.
I idolized Muhammad Ali. I met him, but it was when he really overcome by Parkinson’s. If I had had the opportunity to ask him a question, it would have been, “what gave you the strength to keep it together through being stripped of your title, jailed, attacked by the press and ridiculed for your beliefs?” I was always amazed by the fortitude and courage he maintained through it all.
I always wanted to meet Adam West. I went to San Diego in 1980 for what was known as "Comic Con". I was not into comics, but my brother was, so my dad took him and I went along for the ride. My dad wanted me to come to a cocktail party in the hotel where we were staying and where the action was taking place. My dad happened to know Adam and introduced me. "Hi, i'm Adam West, Bill Anderson (his real name), For years, I had wanted to meet him, but I didn't know what to say. I decided to just ask how he could jump on a pole in a suit and then come down in his batman outfit. Of course, I knew the answer.
He started to answer in his Batman voice, "that my child" or something like that, and then went on that it was a film splice and that half the time, the bookcase wouldn't open on time.
I had a friend who listened to this when he heard Lennon had died, instead of something by Lennon. Only people who were Lennon fans, and knew Lennon's work very well, could have created it. But like old friends, they felt free to verbally poke at him.
Once met Kelsey Grammer in Budapest (where he, so I found out later, was filming a musical). Was bold enough to approach him (and wasn't the only one, but not too many Budapestians seemed to know who he was), but at the same time I was so thunderstruck I forgot I COULD ask him a question. Pity that the foto (it was before smartphones, so yes, it was a real foto) did reflect that he was his sympathetic self, and I was thunderstruck.
I've met many celebrities and had no idea what to say to them, even if I had time to prepare. Usually I say something stupid and embarrassing, but not always.
I went to a press conference for Paul McCartney when they played in Berkeley in 1990. I knew 3 days in advance I would be there and I asked everyone I knew, 'what should I ask Paul'? I wanted to ask something that showed my deep knowledge of all things Beatle, as well as something he'd not been asked much before. I spent 3 days trying to come up with something, ultimately at the presser I sat 10 feet away from Paul, yet had absolutely no idea what to say, so I said nothing.
It turned out our local competitor station had someone there as well and they ended up asking the best question of the day ('how do you like the Beatles on CD?...the catalog had just been released on CD a few years before). It was Paul's best, most original answer.
I'm reminded of Stan Laurel telling of a man coming to see him. The guy imitated Laurel the entire time, and Laurel was going out of his mind about it.
When I was nine, I met Vin Scully. He looked down smiling and said, "So you're the guy who wants my job!"
I'll never forget my response. I said, " ."
It's hard to talk when your jaw is hanging.
.
Have NEVER met anyone famous, but if I could have my choice, I'd LOVE to meet each of the Beatles, separately, and get their honest answer (note: this is the part that, more than likely, would probably NEVER happen......you know, the "honest" part) to this question,
"Who do you feel was the most talented member of the group"?
Probably be VERY fascinating to hear who each of them chose, their explanation of their choice (again, if they were EVER to answer it honestly!).....and DOUBLY so, were they, by chance, to unabashedly choose THEMSELVES !!
.
One of my favorite lines from Breaking Bad:
"Is that you talking, or Yoko Ono?" -Saul Goodman
Have had the good fortune to meet three of my lifetime showbiz idols and many non-showbiz idols.
To me, Idol means I have enough respect for who they are, what they accomplished and how they did it that it takes my breath away. One of my meetings resulted in a friendship. The other folks were undoubtedly put off by my panting.
Okay, maybe not idols, but I take this opportunity to state clearly how much affection and respect I have for all of the incredibly talented people I’ve met who are responsible for that show, M*A*S*H.
When I was a little kid, I got to meet Stan Lee at a comics convention. (This was before conventions were such huge deals, and I only had to stand in line for half an hour or so.) Like many young comic-book fans, I had no idea about the difference between writers and artists -- so I asked him to draw something for me. He was super-cool about it, and sketched a "Kilroy was here" cartoon, which he signed. Unfortunately, I lost that drawing over the course of many moves, but I'll always remember how nice he was.
Most of the times that I've met people I truly admired, it was professionally, so, I felt entitled to speak. But when I was late teens/early 20s, I saw Cass Elliott come out of an event in Century City. I loved her voice (still do). I ran up. She looked a little alarmed. I was brilliant, I said, "I just wanted to say hello." She just stared back and said, "Hello." And I ran away, back to my gaping friends. It was quite the moment.
I met John Denver once at a book signing. All of these people were telling him how great all the hits were and all I said was "I love Stonehaven Sunset"..a rather obscure song from an album in the late '80's. He stopped writing in my book and looked at me and smiled that John Denver grin. "Really? No one ever mentions that song! Thank you very much". He shook my hand..The rest of the night was a blur....I lost the book but still have the memory from 1994....and Stonehaven Sunset is still my all time favorite John Denver song.
A Facebook friend met McCartney in an elevator a couple years ago at a Rock and Roll Hall of Fame events, and had those few "uhhhh, what do I even SAY?" moments before saying what he said was about the stupidest thing he could've said: "I know people probably say this to you all the time, but I'm a huge Beatles fan."
To which McCartney replied: "Me too."
I met Randy Newman, long an idol of mine, after he gave a concert that my friend produced. I came armed with CDs, including his film score for "Avalon". "You must be one of the ten people who bought this," he said, as he scrawled on the booklet. "It's great," I said. "I love that movie." I couldn't wax effusive that night (though I could now), because I was tongue-tied, but it wasn't due to him - he couldn't have been nicer or more approachable. He asked me what other music I listened to, and I blurted out "Bach, and Beethoven, and you." "Good choices," he said, with his trademark wryness.
I love listening to his work. He's got his own style, in both his songwriting and his scoring. Many have imitated him, but nobody can quite capture his compositional voice. His music can make me think and laugh, give me the chills, or bring tears.
Anyway, what I know of the guy, he's a genuine mensch.
I met one of my favourite singers, Jane Siberry, a few years back, and she was delightful to both myself and my wife. I have seen Jane (in concert) loads of times but was always too chicken to approach her after the shows (though many did) to tell her how much her music means/meant to me. When I told her that, Jane slyly asked why a big lug like me would be "too chicken" to speak to her.
I met Buzz Aldrin. I knew days in advance that I might meet Buzz Aldrin. I asked all my Space-Age friends what I should ask Buzz Aldrin if I had the chance, and they suggested several intelligent questions that went beyond the usual Moon stuff and focused on his Gemini 12 mission, his doctorate work on orbital rendezvous, and his days as a fighter pilot. I was primed, locked and loaded. And in the moment, I said, "It's a great honor to meet you, thanks for being here." I'm pretty sure Buzz Aldrin's never heard that before.
Many years ago while still in High School, I worked at a very popular eatery called Hot Dog Johnny's which was about an hour from the Pocono Mountains in Pennsylvania. At the time, comedian Dick Shawn was appearing in a play at a theater there. One afternoon he showed up at Johnny's while I was working the window and ordered a couple of hot dogs. I, being a huge fan of the movie "It's a Mad Mad Mad Mad World" and his role in the movie as Sylvester, was anxious to ask him a question.
Whether or not he wanted chopped onions on his hot dogs!
To Ben K
“ I had no idea about the difference between writers and artists”
My father took my nephew Harlan to Comic-Con many years ago. My dad lost track of him and called out his name. As it happened, Harlan Ellison was at a table in front of him. My dad called “Harlan!” And Harlan Ellison said “Yes?” And my dad called out my nephew’s name again and again Harlan Ellison said “Yes?” Then my nephew showed up and everyone had a laugh about it. So my dad then asks Harlan Ellison if he could draw something for my nephew. And Harlan Ellison says “I’m not an artist”. And my clueless dad says “Well, what are you doing here? And Harlan Ellison says “Well, some people think Imcan write.”
To Kevin from VA
"Hot Dog Johnny's" -- I remember them! We stopped there all the time when we went to visit my grandparents in Pennsylvania.
Just looked them up online -- it's still around!
So, encounters with celebrities, eh?
Ted Nugent told me to get my DNA checked.
Scott Ian of Anthrax told the girl next to me that she wasn't old enough to have been born when they wrote that last song, then points at me: "But you were."
Juliette Lewis kicked me in the back of the head. One of the more pleasant encounters.
I earned the opprobrium of the entire band UFO. And of Budgie. And Iron Maiden.
Lemmy glared at me a few times over the years. And many more...
But I got my revenge on David Coverdale of Whitesnake. I told him to get out of the way so I could watch the drummer.
I met Petula Clark a couple of years ago. I managed to tell her I was a big fan, and that she looked just like she did when she was on the Ed Sullivan Show. She laughed, thanked me, and told me I needed glasses.
To clarify: The track "Magical Misery Tour" was at the end of side 1 of Radio Dinner, the first LP produced by National Lampoon magazine. I got my copy in October 1972 and then became a subscriber. It was a sort of predecessor to the National Lampoon Radio Hour, which itself was one ancestor of the original Saturday Night Live. I just looked at the Radio Dinner Wikipedia entry and it's a pretty good overview.
I would ask Bruce Springsteen how he feels when right wingers try to co-opt his songs. Then I would tell him he got me through high school and the other worst parts of my life. Just before fainting, I would ask him to sign something on my soon-to-be unconscious body.
NPR's TALK OF THE NATION was excellent when Juan Williams was the host - and still good with various successors. Given that one would rarely call in "live" - non-live podcasts were fine.
I regret that that NPR discontinued it.
If I could magically meet Charles Darwin, first I'd thank him, and then I'd ask him if he agrees we're currently living through the stupidest era in modern history.
For example, conservative radio host Marc Bernier, who called himself Mr Anti-Vax and likened vaccinations to Nazi Germany, has died of Coronavirus. He should not be confused with conservative radio host Phil Valentine, who did a parody song called Vaxman, sung to the tune of Taxman by The Beatles with the lyrics "Let me tell you how it will be, and I don’t care if you agree, ‘Cause I’m the Vaxman, yeah I’m the Vaxman. If you don’t like me coming round, be thankful I don’t hold you down," who also died of Coronavirus.
He should also not be confused with conservative radio host Dick Farrel, who described Fauci as a "power-tripping, lying freak" and advised people not to get vaccinated, who has also died of Coronavirus.
He definitely won't be confused with Caleb Wallace, who wasn't a radio host but was the organizer of The Freedom Rally and The San Angelo Freedom Defenders and called for an end to medical tyranny and wrote to his local school district demanding they stop all Coronavirus restrictions and mandates. He too has died of Coronavirus.
Perhaps I'm being harsh. After all, it takes a lot of commitment to actually die in order to own the libs.
I briefly spoke with Lauren Bacall in the early 1980s when she was in Seattle to promote her autobiography. I acknowledged her and said that I liked her sense of humor. She skipped a beat, looked me square in the eye, and said with a touch of relief, "Thanks. You need it in this business!"
via Reddit (not my raffle), a Simpsons TV that plays The Simpsons (and nothing else, I believe).
For charity, he's making 10 more and raffling them off: https://www.simpsonstv.org/
Post
https://www.reddit.com/r/nextfuckinglevel/comments/pdxzlk/i_am_the_creator_of_the_simpsons_tv_that_went/
In the early 80’s Danny Simon gave a comedy writing class in Kansas City. At the end of the first session he asked if anyone would be nice enough to shuttle him between his hotel and the UMKC college campus during the four days he was here.. I eagerly volunteered. As fun as that was, it also gave me the perfect line when I met his brother Neil at a theatre conference some years later: “I was once your brother’s chauffeur.”
I rarely get star-struck. My siblings went to the same Seattle-area school as the former coach of our (now former) NBA team. At a retail job in college, I rang up purchases for lots of athletes, newscasters, and local actors/presenters and their families. I don't make a scene if I see someone famous here, because I don't like to bother people, and I'm sure your average celebrity wouldn't mind one less person suffocating them for an unsolicited autograph.
In fact, that's one thing some athletes have noticed about Seattleites, that we recognize them in public but we let them alone. Freddie Ljungberg, a big soccer star for England's Arsenal who played in Seattle for a couple of years, said that the leeway we gave him when he went grocery shopping would never have happened in London. I also heard the story that Edgar Martinez and his family dined in a local restaurant, and went unacknowledged by the other patrons until they left, at which time everyone gave him a standing ovation.
When I've met famous people in structured settings such as a comic-con, I'm able to keep composure. I even drew a genuine good moment from Hayley Atwell when I lined up for her autograph. I told her, "You had the greatest cast", and when she looked puzzled I named some of her "Agent Carter" co-stars. When she realized what I meant, she blushed, cocked her head slightly and said, "Awww, thank you!"
That said, if I ever were introduced to Emilia Clarke, Kaley Cuoco, Rachel McAdams, Amanda Seyfried, or the Dutch women's field hockey team, I'd probably be blushing and stammering too much to be coherent.
My Randy Newman story, the bottom line of which is that I didn't bug him because he was with his family. https://www.rogerogreen.com/2010/05/14/my-randy-newman-story/
I'd like to ask Bruce Springsteen why he wrote/sang "speed" instead of "fast" ball in "Glory Days." Still bothers me.
But I probably wouldn't have the guts. I'd opt for something benign like, "hey, how about your daughter's Olympic medal?" Much safer.
In 1968, when I was 17, I found myself in an elevator at the Pasadena Playhouse with Jessica Tandy and Hume Cronyn. I was going ten floors so I knew I had maybe a whole minute with them, so I asked Jessica about The Birds and she happily chatted with me about Hitch for nine floors.
Nothing passed between myself and Hume, which is a regret forever, as, among other things, he had worked with Hitch more than she had, having appeared in Shadow of a Doubt and having co-written (He's credited with the "Adaptation" while Arthur Laurents gets the "Screenplay by" credit) on Hitchcock's Rope, and I had already seen Hume totally blow Richard Burton off the stage, completely stealing Hamlet from him with an unforgettable performance as Polonius, a character usually noteworthy for his dullness. Man I wish I could have had even five more minutes with them to talk Hitch and Tennessee Williams. (Also in the elevator with me was my high school drama teacher, who had seen Tandy play Blanche Dubois on Broadway 21 years earlier.)
As for John Lennon, in April, 1974, I was in the audience at the Roxy to see the premiere of The Rocky Horror Show, more a year before the movie came out, with Tim Curry and Meat Loaf live onstage. It was "Cabaret Seating" and John Lennon was seated at the next table, two feet away. I could smell him. My date and I never dared speak to him, but we watched him more than we watched the show. At the party afterwards I met Leonard Nimoy and Jack Nicholson. Jeesh, what an evening!
Over 30 years later, the late Tom Davis of Franken & Davis, published an autobiography. In it he says one of the jobs he had in LA pre-SNL was running a follow-spot at the Roxy on The Rocky Horror Show, and how on opening night, backstage was abuzz that John Lennon was there, but that he, Davis, never saw Lennon because his seat at the follow-spot was directly above Lennon's head. So over 30 years later I learned that while I was staring at Lennon, Tom Davis, whom I would meet 5 years later, had been seated just above me the whole show.
BTW, Tim Curry's performance as Frank N. Furter on stage was incredible. His performance in the movie is a pale reflection of his magic onstage live.
As a former broadcaster, I've gotten to meet and interview many celebrities. But after the tape stops rolling, my favorite question is almost always: "What's______ really like?"
I saw porn star Mia Smiles in a supermarket once. I didn't say anything to her for the same reason. She was with what appeared to be her family. I didn't want to embarrass her or myself incase they didn't know what her "day job" was. Or just as bad knew, but weren't happy about it.
M.B.
I was working at a fast rood restaurant in the 80s when Steven Tyler and Joe Perry and another bandmate came in and I waited on them. Being the clueless teenager that I was, I didn’t recognize them at all and treated them like any other anonymous customer. Afterward, my coworkers were all like, “Dude, you just waited on Aerosmith!” And I didn’t have the awareness to enjoy it!
@D.McEwan: I've been jealous of you and so many of your great stories, but DAMN Mary-- opening night of Rocky Horror Show at the ROXY?! I'm done, I'm dead, you have slayed me and no other story will be its match!
Performing in/attending "The Rocky Horror Picture Show" as a teenager (Magenta and Columbia; my eyebrows never did grow back right) absolutely both saved and changed my life. Anywhere I went, I knew if I found the theatre playing RHPS I would find My People. SO much queer youth with no where else to go and be themselves back then.
Cheers, thanks a lot,
Storm
Belatedly (slightly):
Some years back, I got to meet Ed Asner at a big autograph show here in Chicago.
We chatted a bit, and I brought a copy of the play A Case Of Libel, in which Ed had starred in a cable-tv production back around 1980 or thereabouts.
This play was adapted from Louis Nizer's memoir, and concerned the Quentin Reynolds/Westbrook Pegler lawsuit, which largely did in the latter gentleman's journalism career.
When the play first appeared in the '60s, the playwright, Henry Denker, had to change all the names, because the figures were still alive; in this production, Ed Asner played Nizer ('Robert Sloane') and Dan Travanti was Pegler ('Boyd Bendix'), while the rest of the cast were top Canadian actors (the show was made there).
Anyway, back to that Chicago show:
I showed the playscript to Ed Asner, who smiled broadly in recalling the experience:
"That was a piece of work I was really proud of!"
Ed signed the title page thusly: "One of my finer moments! Best of Life - Ed Asner"
I'm looking at that autograph right now, as I'm typing this; I still subscribe to that sentiment in all ways.
As it happens, this production of A Case Of Libel is in my Old DVD Wall (c2c, but it counts).
When I heard about Ed's passing, I pulled the DVD down and watched it again; this play ought to be revived, and that right soon - but that's another story ...
So that's the Big Meet-up Story; all told, I think it went pretty well ...
I like to keep in mind small roles that actors had early in the careers, in case I do ever meet 'em and then act like I haven't seen anything else. For example, if I ever happen to chat with Samuel L Jackson I'm gonna say "Didn't you play the robber in 'Coming to America'? You were great in that - have you done anything else I might have seen?"
Not to be mean, but just 'cause...
I've worked with a lot of actors on location. They visibly squirm when people walk up to them, and start gushing. The "coolest" thing that you could do??? Wave with a big smile, and a thumbs up. And keep walking. The minute you open your mouth, and say something stupid, you've lost them. And after you walk by? Turn around, because they've ALSO turned around to look at you. Smile again. Works EVERY time.
Also, don't call a performer by his/her first name. Low rent. Crew members never use first names (excluding producers, directors, some hair/make-up/wardrobe...).
People use first names, because they think that it makes them "closer" to the celebrity.
I don't call my dentist "John."
Celebrities are NOT your friend.
About 42 years ago, I went to the Inner Harbor in Baltimore, MD. I had recently gotten my driver's license and was enjoying the new freedom of going places farther than my bicycle could take me.
I walked by the Baltimore Convention Center, the sprawling one between the harbor and the yet to be built Camden Yards. There was a pool shooting exhibition featuring Minnesota Fats.
I went in and watched. During a break in the action I asked Mr. Fats for his autograph. He took out a self inking stamper and stamped my ticket. Sort of wrecked the moment and I don't think I ever asked another celebrity for one since. That includes when I played poker with 2004 World Series of Poker Champion Greg Raymer. Nice guy, we just chatted.
One other encounter I didn't have. I got a text from a friend telling me that Terry O'Quinn (John Locke from Lost) was at a local pub about 4 blocks from my house. He was a friend of the bar's owner. I really enjoy Terry's work.
I decided not to go because I knew when I saw him I would be about as engaging to him as Chris Farley was on his "The Chris Farley Show" SNL sketches. Neither one of us needed that.
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